Day One Hundred and Fifty Two

The council hall was a riot of noise.

Ada could barely hear herself think over it, the cacophony accompanied by the pounding in her head leaving her feeling vaguely nauseous. Her fingers played with the edge of the bandage wrapped around her leg, toying with the material through the bloody rip in her trousers. They were loose enough at least that the bandage could fit snugly underneath it, something she supposed she should be glad for.

With every steadying breath she took she could feel the other bandages wrapped tight around her upper torso. The slashes across her ribs had been brutal, two of them criss crossing over each other, jagged and deep. She could feel them steadily oozing blood even an hour after the attack. She had refused the pain medicine Connor had tried to force down her throat, knowing that it would make her sleepy.

She couldn't afford to be tired. Not here, not now.

Avin came up beside her, offering her a chunk of bread. Judging by the shape of it, it had been swiped from the kitchens and stuffed in his pocket. The thought of food made the nausea return, but she smiled and took it anyway, knowing it would make him feel better. "How's your shoulder?" He asked, eyeing the strips of cloth tied around it.

"Can't even feel it anymore." She lied. Even the slightest movement had pain ripping through her, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "Will be good as new in just a few days."

"You don't have to be here, you know?" Gally said as he walked up to them, putting his hand on the back of her chair. "Go back to the homestead and sleep it off."

How do I sleep off several knife wounds? She thought bitterly to herself.

"I'm not missing this." Ada shook her head. Red hair fell into her face, the copper strands still threaded through with blood. She would need to wash that out before the day was through. "If you're going to be talking about what to do with me and Stephen then I'd rather be here for it."

The thought of sitting idly in her hammock whilst the entire glade discussed what to do with them was almost unbearable.

"What to do with Stephen, you mean." Gally corrected. "You did nothing wrong."

"I threw the first punch."

"He stabbed you." Gally replied. "There's a difference. Everyone here knows that."

"Is that so?" Ada cast her attention back to the rest of the room, where the seventeen or so other gladers were in the midst of an argument. She couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but she heard enough to know that opinion was mostly divided. Some seemed to agree with Alby, thinking that Stephen was too dangerous to be around them, that his ideas would get them killed if he didn't attack them first. Others disagreed, arguing that Ada had attacked first, that if anyone deserved to be punished it was her. The bitter resentment in their voices had her looking away, back to Gally and Avin. "Seems to me that's not the case."

"They're idiots." Avin said simply. He looked older than he ever had suddenly, as if he were their age, and Ada hated that the hostile environment they were surviving in had changed him from the shy and bright boy she had come up in the box with to the mistrusting and determined one in front of her. "They saw what happened."

Alby entered the room, the door shutting firmly behind him, the sound silencing the council hall like something muting a television. He stared at them all for a moment before making his way down into the centre of the pit, staring at the ground.

"What are we doing here?" One boy asked, Ada didn't know his name. Alan, perhaps.

"We need to talk about what just happened and what we're going to do going forward." Alby replied.

One of the other gladers, leaning against the wall, raised his hand. "Lock them both up."

"Don't be stupid." Another said. "We can't just lock people up."

"We need to let Stephen out." Isaac said. "It isn't fair that he's not here."

"You trust him not to try to murder Ada again?" A trackhoe, Johnny, asked. "Because I sure don't."

"She started it." Another said, and soon voices were rising over each other and Ada was left staring at her boots, counting the laces on them to try and calm her racing heart.

Alby slammed his hand down on the banister. "Enough! The whole reason I called this thing was because we need to talk this through, not bicker like a bunch of children."

Ada didn't bother mentioning the fact that they were children, Alby the oldest at what they guessed seventeen.

"Personally," he continued, "I don't want dangerous people in the Glade. This place is small enough without people actively trying to murder each other. We need to be peaceful, exist with each other and focus on our jobs."

"Right." Toby nodded. "So what exactly do you suggest?

"I say if he wants to go into the maze so badly we let him. Kick him out."

Ada sat up straight in her seat, staring at Alby with wide eyes right as the gathering of gladers burst into sound. Panicked disagreements and horrified protests all blurred together in a deafening haze. She locked eyes with Newt across the room, but he wasn't looking at her. He was staring at Alby, brows furrowed and jaw clenched.

"You want to kick him out of the Glade?" Nick asked, voice strained. "Alby... we can't do that. He'll get killed out there."

For a brief moment a look of regret crossed Alby's face, but it was gone in the next second. "We can't keep him here."

Isaac's hands were clenched into fists on the railing as he leant forward. "What if we just kept him locked up?"

"We can't keep him locked up forever." Gally said slowly. "Disregarding the fact that it's inhumane, what if he gets out? Do you really trust him not to hurt people? He'd come after us all in our sleep and you know it."

"We don't know that." Another glader said. "Maybe we can talk to him, reason with him."

"Why are we even having this conversation?" Mickey spoke up from the back of the room. "You've told us from the start that getting trapped in the maze means certain death. Now you want to stick someone in there deliberately? That's an execution, not a punishment!"

"What other options do we have?" Ada spoke up for the first time. Half the eyes in the room turned to her, but she couldn't decipher the looks they were giving her. Was it blame? Suspicion? Pity? She wanted no part of it.

Alby crossed his arms, usually bright face twisted into a scowl. It transformed the way he looked, dragging him one step further away from the carefree and smiley boy she had grown so accustomed to. "We either let him out and let him free, banish him from the glade, or keep him locked up."

Isaac's mouth opened and closed furiously, as if he were scrambling desperately for a solution but couldn't quite form one good enough. Eventually his mouth closed and he looked at Alby with tears in his eyes. "Can't we just give him a chance? I know he's caused trouble, I know that-"

"Caused trouble?" Nick echoed incredulously. "He stabbed Ada! Multiple times!"

"I know that," Isaac snapped. He turned to Ada and his eyes softened slightly as he took in the stiff way she held herself. "I know that." He said quietly. "But we can't just execute him. We put him in the maze, we're no better than he is. It's barbaric. That's not how we do things here."

"Maybe it should be." Alby said. "I know you guys are new, that so far we've lived relatively peacefully, but we had an incident like this before." Ada's eyes fell shut against her will as she realised what he was talking about. "One of our friends, George..."

Alby trailed off, pain flashing in his eyes. It was the first shred of emotion he'd shown all evening.

"He got stung by a griever and went crazy. He tried to kill us, and ended up killing himself so that he wouldn't."

That wasn't necessarily true, Ada thought. None of them knew why George had done what he had done. Perhaps he couldn't stand the pain anymore and decided death would be preferable, maybe he truly lost his mind and didn't know what he was doing anymore. Or maybe it was to protect them. Maybe he knew that there was no coming back from what had happened to him and didn't want to risk the chance of hurting them.

They were his family, after all. He had said so himself.

"But Stephen hasn't been stung." Someone argued. "We don't know that there's no coming back from this. He hasn't completely lost his mind like your friend did."

"Debatable." Ada muttered. Gally kicked her in the shin, and she shot him a withering look. "What? He stabbed me, I'm allowed to think he's a psychopath."

The hall went quiet with contemplation, half of them looking as if they were seriously considering the idea, the other half looking nothing short of disturbed. "If we do this," Gally said slowly, "we have to think about what this means. We're killing someone, murdering them. Are you really willing to say you can live with that decision?"

Ada thought about it. She could honestly say that she did, that she turned it over in her mind again and again until she felt dizzy. But the answer was the same each time: she wanted him gone. She knew that at some point the weight of his death would crush her, knew that she would blame herself, knew that the only reason they were considering banishment was because of what happened to her.

He had come into her glade, her home, and made her feel like an outsider. He had turned people against her, broken all of their rules, and then actually tried to kill her.

She wanted him gone.

But she didn't want him dead.

"If we do this," she said slowly, "we give him food and supplies. The chance of surviving a night in the maze is rare but it's happened before. If he has food, supplies, he can stay alive long enough to look for a way out. That way it's not on us, if he doesn't make it. It's up to him."

There were a few nods in the crowd, but some people still looked hesitant. "This feels wrong." One of them said. "I know it's logical, I know he can't stay, but it feels wrong."

"It's up to him to survive." Gally said. He rubbed his chin idly as he leant against the chair Ada was sat in. "We'll do what we can, but the rest is up to him."

"We'll vote." Alby said. "Those in favour of banishment, raise your hand."

They did.

"Those in favour of keeping him in the glade, raise your hand."

They did.

Fifteen people voted for banishment.

Only six disagreed.

"Alright then." Alby said. "Sundown tomorrow, Stephen will be banished from the glade, into the maze. Newt, get the supplies ready. Food, weapons, put them in a bag for him."

Newt nodded slowly, face carefully impassive. He was hiding his emotions, Ada realised, studying him carefully. As if he didn't want them to know what he truly thought. It disturbed her — she wanted to know. It felt important.

The council hall was silent, oppressively so. It hung in the air like a disease, choking them.

The only movement was Isaac, who left the council hall with tears in his eyes.

—

Stephen remained in the empty storage container, dubbed the 'slammer' by Avin, for the entirety of the next day. The majority of people seemed to stay away from him, occasionally shooting him glances that were a strange mix of sympathetic and fearful.

The only person who remained glued to his side was Isaac. He spent the majority of the day sat cross legged in front of the bars, either in silence or talking in a low voice. At one point, when Ada glanced over at them, she saw Isaac's hand reached through the bars, entwined with Stephen's. She looked away quickly.

Ada didn't go into the maze that day. Neither did Alby. Her injuries meant that running wouldn't be possible for at least another two weeks, if not longer, but Alby didn't go in either. He said it was because he wanted to keep an eye on the glade, but she knew that being in the maze by himself made him feel isolated and afraid. She didn't call him out on it.

She didn't talk to Stephen, either.

Ada wanted to; part of her wanted to walk right up to the cage, tell him herself that he was going into the maze, but that despite the triumph he must be feeling he wasn't winning, because he was going to die. She knew he was, Alby knew it, Nick knew it.

Newt was less sure.

"There's a chance," he said at lunch, sat opposite her on the wooden bench, "that he'll make it. You did." Newt looked at her with an emotion in his eyes that she couldn't decipher. He was like a puzzle, a magnificent puzzle, that she couldn't for the life of her wrap her head around. "He might make it."

"He might." Was the only thing Ada responded with. She could tell he knew she was lying.

Newt didn't speak for the rest of lunch.

When Ada next looked over at the slammer, Newt was crouched in front of the bars, his shoulders tense. Isaac wasn't there. He was with Alby, as he had been sporadically through the day, pleading and making suggestions they both knew wouldn't work.

Ada's stomach twisted violently as she watched Newt tense up further at something Stephen said. He walked away not long after that, and part of her wanted to follow, to know what they had said, but she didn't. She stayed still.

At long last, the sky turned from a brilliant blue to a haze of oranges and pinks, and the looming threat of the doors closing began to become oppressive. A ticking clock down to the last few seconds.

"It's time." Alby said after dinner, shoving his half full plate away from him. Ada looked down at her own plate, still mostly full, but the thought of eating anything didn't sit right with her. She thought about sneaking some of it into Stephen's bag. Guilt clawed at her insides viciously. "Doors will close in twenty minutes."

Ada nodded silently, the wounds on her shoulders and ribs suddenly aching violently, as if the thought of what was about to happen, what they were about to do, had reopened the stitches.

Gally and Nick wordlessly got to their feet, heading over to the slammer, and Ada watched them go with a sinking feeling. Alby leant across the table, placing his hand mere centimetres away from hers. "You alright?"

She looked up at him with a blank expression. "This feels wrong."

"It is wrong." Alby said. "We're condemning a man to death. But it's necessary."

"Yeah." She nodded. "But it's still cruel."

"Cruel or not," Alby shrugged, "I'm not losing any tears over him. He hurt you. If I have to choose between who I want alive between him and you, there is no choice to make."

Ada gulped. "Gee, Albs." She choked out. "You make me blush."

"I'll tone down my charm, then." Alby smiled. "Can't have you swooning on me."

"Ah yes," she agreed. "What ever would we do then?"

"Guys," Nick said, walking back over to them, "time to go."

The sombre atmosphere returned, and Ada and Alby shot a tight lipped glance at each other as they got to their feet. Most of the glade was crowded around the west doors — they had chosen the ones that they didn't run through everyday. Ada wasn't sure she could survive the reminder of what happened being shoved into her face every time she stepped foot into the maze.

The walls loomed above her, the hallway of the maze looking dark and cold against the warmth of the glade, a slab of endless grey against a backdrop of approaching black. The only spots of colour were the threads of thick ivy stringing across the top and heaped along the walls. The cold breeze coming from inside it snatched the warmth from her bones.

Movement behind her caught her attention, as Stephen was dragged to the entrance by Nick and one of the burlier gladers, a builder, Jones. When he saw Ada, his lip curled in disgust, but he didn't do anything. Perhaps because he knew he would be caught before any damage could be done, she thought, or perhaps because in his mind he was getting his way. He was going into the maze, the very thing he had been wanting for months.

She moved aside as he was shoved before the open doors, a group of ten gladers including Alby, Newt, Nick, and Gally making a semi circle around him to prevent him from coming back into the glade. Stephen stood with his back towards the doors, staring out at them blankly.

His eyes snagged on Isaac, who was standing at the back of the group, jaw clenched. He looked as if he were battling back tears.

Something in Stephen's expression shuttered for a second as their gazes locked.

"Stephen." Alby said, breaking the silence of the group. "We had a council meeting yesterday, where we discussed what the next steps would be."

"What is this, an intervention?" Stephen asked bitterly. His entire body was thrumming with energy, as if all he wanted was to dart backwards into the cold unknown.

"No," Alby said, his voice dark, "it's a banishment."

Newt moved forward, tossing a sack into the entrance of the maze. Ada didn't know exactly what was in it, she hadn't wanted to be with Newt when he packed it. Weapons and food, she guessed. Perhaps some rope and bandages.

All false illusions of survival.

"A goodie basket," Stephen said dryly, "how nice."

"To help you." Ada spoke up for the first time. Stephen's gaze fell on her, immediately filling with hatred. She felt the urge to recoil rising in her, but her own hatred and anger kept her spine straight and words strong. "If you truly think you can survive, and find a way out, this will help you."

Stephen's lip curled, but Alby spoke before he could open his mouth. "The doors will close behind you. If you survive the night, you will not be welcomed back into the glade. You won't be welcome back at all, no matter how many nights you make it through."

Stephen rolled his eyes, but nodded.

There was a sudden shuddering groan as the last rays of the sun met the top of the wall and the countdown began. A blast of intense cold air, reeking of dust and rot, burst from the maze, lifting Ada's hair and rustling her clothes. She gulped, dread slowly rising in her chest.

Isaac took a step forward, towards Stephen, eyes so impossibly sad. "Stephen, I-"

"I know." Stephen said. It was the kindest she had ever heard him speak. "... Me too."

"Time to go, Stephen." Alby said sternly, and Ada caught one last glimpse of his eager face before he turned back to the maze, right as the doors began to close.

A griever screeched in the distance.

Stephen's face went white. "What-"

Nick shoved him forward by the shoulder blades, but any desire to discover what lay beyond the maze walls Stephen seemed to feel appeard to have abandoned him. As did his courage, as he turned back to the Glade with a panicked expression.

"Wait but that's not-"

Another griever shrieked, sounding closer this time, and the doors continued to slide shut, Stephen right in the middle of them. He'd get crushed, Ada thought, unless he moved soon.

"Wait-"

The semi circle closed in, crowding Stephen further into the maze, ensuring that he couldn't make a run for it. Isaac turned away, visibly trembling, and walked towards the Homestead, unable to watch.

For a moment, Ada considered calling it all off. He'd heard the Grievers, he believed them now, surely. The panicked expression on Stephen's face struck her like a blade.

Stephen stumbled backwards to avoid the doors, still rapidly closing, frantic mumbles escaping him. "No wait, I didn't – that's not possible, I –"

He was inside the maze now, clear of the doors, and the gladers fell back, watching Stephen with varying degrees of horror. Ada glanced fleetingly around, her eyes catching on Newt, who was stood with his arms limp at his sides and his jaw clenched hard enough to form a solid line. Stephen's hands scrabbled at the doors, trying to stop them from closing, but nothing could stop the inevitable.

Ada felt sick with the dread that rose inside her. When Stephen wanted the maze, it was easy enough to pretend that they were just giving him what he wished for. But the terrified boy in front of them was suddenly a far cry from the furious psychopath who attacked her with a knife, and she could no longer see this as anything other than the execution that it was. This last glimpse of Stephen, screaming and begging, was the last thing she would ever see of him. It didn't sit right with her, and the finality of it all drowned her.

"Please-" Stephen begged, but there was nothing they could do now, not as the maze doors finally closed with a click that resembled the grim reaper's scythe, and Stephen's screams faded into nothing.

The last line of pink disappeared from the sky, and the darkness of night consumed them.

—

The sky outside the window, if the criss-crossed sticks over the hole in the wall could be called that, was pitch black. Stars dotted the vast expanse, pinpricks of light she could barely make out from her limited view in the medical hut.

Ada watched them with a blank expression, eyes flitting down occasionally to the top of the ginormous wall that bordered the glade. Her hand, pressed against the wound on her shoulder, faltered its movements slightly.

She didn't hear the door open behind her, but she did hear the person suck in a sharp breath. Ada turned her head, copper hair falling over her bare shoulder, to see Newt stood in the doorway, awkwardly shuffling his feet. His face was flushed bright red as he scanned her figure before quickly averting his gaze, staring at the floor instead.

Ada couldn't stop the way the corner of her mouth quirked in amusement.

"Sorry," Newt said softly, his voice cracking around the word. He cleared his throat before rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't know you were, uh... indecent."

Indecent, she thought, rolling her eyes fondly. "I'm in a sports bra, Newt, I'm hardly naked."

Still, it was the most Newt had seen of her. She was perched on the med table, legs swinging beneath her, and had shed her jacket and tank top, leaving her in only a black sports bra that exposed the small of her back and left her shoulders bare. She had lowered one strap in order to remove the bandage to access the stab wound on her shoulder, and the skin glowed in the limited light streaming in through the window.

Beams of moonlight caught on her hair and outlined her body in a pale glow.

Newt's throat felt suddenly dry.

"I, uh-" He cleared his throat, averting his eyes again. "I wanted to check up on you. I saw you weren't down at, uh, at the bunks. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

Ada turned her face away, looking back towards the window. "I'm fine." She said softly.

Traumatised beyond belief, but fine.

"What are you doing?" Newt asked, taking another step into the room. His eyes landed on the jagged slash on the back of her shoulder, likely following the trail of blood she could feel leaking down her back. "Shit, Ada, what the bloody hell happened?"

Ada rolled her shoulder, wincing at the sting of pain. "Bloody hell indeed." She said dryly. "Popped my stitches getting into my hammock."

Newt took another step forward, so close now she could feel the heat of his body, and lifted a hand to brush her hair away from her back. "Here, let me-"

"No." Ada said, harsher than she should have.

Newt's hand dropped, and although she wasn't looking, she could practically see the hurt expression on his face. Her fingers clenched harder around the blood stained cloth in her hand.

Newt didn't respond, moving around her to the sinks, where he wet another cloth, keeping his head low. Ada watched him, watched the moonlight turn his gold hair silver. Silence hung heavy over them.

When he turned back to her, his face was patient and kind, not disappointed like she expected. "You can't reach your back." Newt said softly. "It needs cleaning, or it'll get infected."

Ada narrowed her eyes, the thought of him touching her as exciting as it was repulsive. She thought of Stephen's hands around her wrists and throat, the flashes of dead bodies and lifeless eyes she kept experiencing, and clenched her jaw, closing her eyes tight to fight back the nausea.

When she opened them again, Newt was stood right in front of her, a small distance separating them. His eyes were trained on her hands. When had they started shaking?

"Ada," Newt's voice was so soft when he spoke, she leaned into it, relishing in the warmth it filled her with, "let me help you."

She nodded.

Newt circled back around her, the only sounds in the small room their breathing. Ada lifted the hair away from her back, hugging the long strands to her chest. She winced at the first press of the cloth. Newt apologised, voice low, and she felt his breath against her neck.

"This is gonna hurt." He warned as he reached for the suturing kit. Ada grit her teeth, but the feel of the needle sliding through the skin at the edge of the wound had her vision going hazy.

Newt's long fingers brushed against her back, barely a hint of contact, but her entire body shuddered in response.

"This okay?" He asked, and she nodded jerkily.

"Yeah." Her voice was strangely croaky.

The stitches pulled together with a strange tugging feeling and Ada whimpered, hand darting back to hold onto whatever she could, fingers closing around the baggy sleeve of Newt's jacket. Her fingers tangled in the material, gripping onto it for dear life as she lifted her eyes to the ceiling and willed herself to stay conscious.

"You alright?" Newt asked, his voice oddly shaky.

"Oh yeah," she grit out, "grand."

Newt huffed out a laugh. "Just two more." As he put the next two stitches in, he rubbed his thumb idly over the back of her shoulder. Ada shuddered, but it wasn't through fear, or disgust. Warmth filled her.

When he was done, Newt didn't step away. He hovered at her back, fingers pressed against her skin, rubbing slightly over the goose flesh that had risen there. Slowly, so slowly she could have sworn she was imagining it, he leant forward slightly and pressed his forehead to the back of her head.

Ada's breath left her lungs in a sweep, and it was only then that she realised she was still gripping onto his sleeve. Her fingers flexed, and she felt Newt's head move as he followed the movement with his eyes.

"I'm glad he's dead." He said suddenly, shocking Ada enough to let go of his sleeve. His free hand travelled downwards towards her wrist, not making contact, hovering over the bruises that Stephen had left.

"You don't mean that." She said softly.

"I do." Newt responded. "Saves me having to kill him myself."

Ada's head snapped towards him, the movement bringing their faces so close together their noses brushed. The urge to pull away rose inside her, but for once she didn't listen. "You don't care that much." She said quietly.

Newt didn't respond. His gaze bored into hers, a storm in his eyes. His eyes flitted down to her lips, and Ada's breath caught in her throat.

"What did you say to him?" She asked, forcing his eyes back up to hers. "Stephen. I saw you talking to him earlier. What did you say to him?"

Newt's body tensed up so fast she wasn't sure he was ever relaxed. "Doesn't matter." His voice was hard again.

"It does, though." Ada said, feeling frustration start to rise in her.

"Why?" He snapped.

"Why are you getting angry at me?" She asked, pulling away from him. Newt took a step back, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Her shoulders felt cold now, so she pulled the strap of her sports bra back up and covered her back with her hair. "Just tell me."

"Why are you so goddamn stubborn?"

"Why are you so goddamn obtuse?"

Newt looked away, that damned frown back on his face. "Put a bandage on that." He said, still not looking at her. "It'll get an infection if you don't."

"Newt-" She said incredulously.

But he was already walking away, out the door and down the stairs without a backwards glance, leaving Ada alone with only the stars and her thoughts to accompany her.