Night Seven Hundred and Thirty Two

Thomas crashed to the ground, frantically scrambling back towards her as the Griever slammed into the earth. Ada grabbed at his arm, forcing him to his feet as they hastily backed away. The maze closed in around them in a wall of thick shadow, swallowing them whole. Two metallic claws dug into the stone as the Griever reared its head.

Ada had forgotten just how horrifying the monsters were up close; bulbous and misshapen, its body seemed to roll as it moved slowly towards them, a hunter stalking its prey. In the growing blackness, the greenish tint of its rotted flesh seemed to glisten with slime and sludge, the wisps of hair protruding from its back coated in them.

Its eyes, hardly slits on the side of its bulbous head, were narrowed and blank with murderous rage as it opened its gaping mouth, revealing rows upon rows of dagger-like teeth. Its shriek split the air, the force of it lifting the hair from her shoulders and making her eyes water with the stench of its breath.

"Oh dear god," Thomas croaked, his hand closing around her wrist as he turned and broke into a sprint, tugging her along with him. "Oh we're fucked, we're so fucked-"

"Just run," she panted, refusing to look behind her. Metal scraped against stone, no doubt the sound of the Griever digging its claws into stone as it high-tailed after them, crashing into walls and bends with little care for its own safety. They weren't built to be smart, she knew, they were built to be killers. Mindless machines focussed solely on bringing about death and chaos.

Thomas' grip on her wrist was tight enough to make the bruises there burn with a sharp pain, but the sting made her focus, made the aching in her legs and lungs seem more manageable as she forced her legs to move faster. Thomas was quicker than her, all but yanking her shoulder out of its socket as he led her down corridor after corridor, deep into the belly of the labyrinth.

The sounds faded, and when she risked turning her head, Ada's heart stuttered to a stop when she noticed the beast was no longer following them. But they were programmed to kill, to chase, to hunt – they didn't stop, didn't rest. There was no reason for it to have stopped following them unless-

The Griever smashed into the space ahead of them, cutting them off. Ada let out a panicked gasp, skidding to a stop and narrowly avoiding crashing into Thomas' back. She thought she heard him scream, but the sound was nothing compared to the scrape of metal on stone, the shifting of the walls around them, and the furious cries of death as it reared up in front of them.

"Move!" Ada yelled, shoving Thomas down the corridor to their left, mind running frantic as she tried to figure out where exactly they were. They could have run for miles and she would have had no idea, too lost in the terror and the adrenaline pumping furiously through her veins.

Run, George's voice was back, run or die.

There were other Grievers, out in the maze. She could hear them in the distance, prowling, screaming, hunting. As they rounded corner after corner, feet skidding and lungs burning, all she could do was hope that they were far away from them. One Griever, they could perhaps outrun, but two? She would have the same chance of surviving if she simply curled up into a ball on the floor and played dead.

Left, right, left, left again, there was section five, then four, then back into five. Black dots sparked in her vision as her lungs fought for air.

Recognition sparked a second too late. "Wait! Thomas no, not down-"

But it was too late, and the dead end rose before them before she could turn. They skidded to a stop, right in front of the stone, feet catching on the tufts of dead grass that had worked their way out of the cracks in the ground. "Oh shit." Thomas hissed, hand tightening on her arm.

"Back this way," she nodded at the corridor to their right, "we can go down-"

A steady click-whirr sparked in the air again, and four large blades of metal sliced into the walls just before their escape route. The Griever came into view slowly, a rasping snarl escaping its bobbing throat. Thick ropes of yellow mucus slipped from between its teeth, splashing onto the floor. It moved slowly, each calculated step precise and deadly.

The hunter had cornered its prey, and they both knew it.

"Oh god, oh god..." Thomas muttered, shoving her behind him as they backed into the wall. "What do we do, what do we-"

Ada turned her back, just for a second, eyes scrambling for a solution. It was a half wall, shorter than the others, with thick ribbons of ivy coated its very surface.

"Climb!" Ada yelled, right as the Griever lunged at them. Taking a running jump, her feet left the ground and her hands wrapped around the makeshift ladder as the Griever crashed into where she had just been standing, something sharp and bitter slashing against the back of her ankle. Warmth dribbled from the cut, but she didn't dare look back as she scrambled upwards and over the wall, arms shaking with exhaustion, praying that Thomas was following her.

For once the Griever's size was its downfall, its colossal form struggling to climb in such a narrow space, but its knife-like legs dug into the ivy and hoisted its body over the edge before she could make it two feet.

Thomas passed her, snagging her hand as he did and dragging her behind him, not even stopping as they scaled the top of the smaller wall. His fingers slipped from hers as he leapt across the gap where the corridors below them split. Ada didn't even have time to register the overwhelming fear as her feet left the ground, leaving her suspended over a drop that would kill her instantly if she miscalculated.

"Come on, come on!" Thomas yelled, his voice strained and out of breath as they vaulted up the narrow wall and turned left.

The walls on either side of them disappeared, opening into a view that would have been beautiful if it were anywhere but there. So high up, she could make out the towering levels of stone that made up the walls, barely more than vague outlines lost to the fog, the thick ropes of ivy strung between them like bunting. Silhouetted by the stars, the cliff-face provided a birds-eye view that would have been appreciated if it didn't mean certain death. The ground dropped away to nothing, leaving them exposed and vulnerable and, worst of all, trapped.

Ada slowed to a stop, pebbles and rubble skidding over the edge as her feet dragged against the rock. She watched them fall, tracking their descent, her heart sinking along with them. She felt more than saw Thomas stop beside her, the gust of wind that accompanied him buffeting into her arm.

Now that she was no longer moving, every ache and pain seemed to amplify, cutting through her until she was gasping for breath with her hands on her knees. Her hair stuck to her neck with sweat, damp and curling at the ends from the frizz. She could feel the mud caking it, feel Alby's blood crusting in the strands. Bile filled her throat.

Thomas backed away from the edge, his eyes wild and dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. "Okay," Thomas panted, shaking his head, "well, now we're definitely fucked."

Ada didn't have it in her to argue. "Is it still behind us?" She asked, slowly rising up to her full height again. "It's still behind us, isn't it?" Something moved at the entrance to the passage, blocking off the light. "Of course it is, why wouldn't it be? That's great, really, fantastic."

"Ada?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up. I'm thinking."

The Griever snarled, teeth glinting in the low light. Now that she was actually staring at it, with nowhere to go but to her grave, she began to register the sheer size of it. It stretched almost as tall as the walls on either side of it, at least three times her height. As it inched nearer, rotted limbs and malicious face filling up her vision, she could do nothing but stand there and wait for the death blow.

She was going to die. She knew it. Not a single corner of her brain sparked with the hope that she would walk away from this breathing, and the grim uncertainty levelled her heartbeat to a sort of calmness that was more eerie than the crushing terror.

She contemplated jumping, just for a second. One final desperate grab for control, for if she were to die it would be at no one's hands but her own. It was a cruel thought, a selfish thought, but surely that final second of agony would be better than what awaited her if she didn't. She was going to die anyway, she was sure of it. There was no escaping the darkness that waited for her, no escaping her fate. Maybe the freefall would be better.

She understood, then, why Newt had done it. Why he had jumped.

And knew that she couldn't.

"Jump," Thomas said, startling Ada so much she nearly fell off the edge.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, we have to jump."

"To where?" Ada gestured vaguely behind her, eyes still on the Griever. It was toying with them, she realised with a sick jolt, playing with its food before it feasted. It's scorpion-like tail swung menacingly behind it, glinting, waiting.

The Griever hissed, the sound garbled and cracked, as it crouched. Tension crackled across Ada's skin. It was going to pounce.

Thomas seemed to have come to the same conclusion, tensing up as he began to rock back and forth on his feet. "Don't think, just do," he instructed, hastily turning back to the cliff. "Now!" He was gone before she could blink, and Ada barely had a second to breathe before the Griever let out a shriek of pure fury and lunged at her.

Thomas screamed her name, and the sound spurred something in her, some desperate need to make it out breathing, to make it home to her family, and she was jumping before she could talk herself out of it. The wall opposite was covered in ivy; she slammed into it, colliding so hard the breath was knocked straight from her lungs.

Her hands shredded, skin tearing against rock and barbed plant as she desperately tried to hook her hands into anything, anything, feet kicking below her as if her willpower alone could fight gravity long enough for her to stop her fall. She didn't know where Thomas was, didn't know anything beside the biting pain in her hands and lungs, beside the sea of grey and green swarming her vision.

Something heavy slammed into the wall above her, and there was a gleaming flash of metal as something crashed into the stone beside her head, cracking it. A startled cry forced its way out of her throat. Thomas was screaming, but she could barely hear it over the deafening screeches coming from the Griever. It had followed them, she had no doubt, but her grip was slipping and the ivy went slack, like something had cut it, and she was in freefall.

A hand clamped down on her wrist, pinning her to the wall, and she barely had a second to appreciate it before they were skidding down the stone, scrambling frantically at swaths of green. Noise buffeted her from all sides – screaming, panting, screeching, yelling, all swirling together in her mind until she was sure her eardrums would burst.

Something snapped right by her ear, and then Thomas was holding her tighter as they fell, the ivy they clung to falling away from the wall until the ground rushed up to meet her, and all she could do was scream.

She hit the ground with a sickening thud, one of her bones snapping beneath her skin. She didn't know where, couldn't pinpoint the pain amidst the sea of discomfort. Swaths of ivy crunched underneath her. Ada groaned, rolling to the side, blinking away the black spots in her vision. Her ears were ringing furiously, blocking out the sound.

"Ada, Ada," large hands dragged her up by the arms, pulling her to the side and away from the scene. As she straightened, a sharp pain slashed through her side. "Holy fuck," she lifted her eyes, still not sure of what was going on.

The Griever had come down on top of them, its colossal form buried under thick strands of ivy that looped around its legs, half attached to the wall still. Its limbs worked furiously to free itself, metal glinting in the low light.

"Let's go, let's go." Thomas didn't waste a second, taking her by the hand as they sprinted in the opposite direction, down towards the end of the corridor.

Each step caused the pain in her abdomen to worsen, sharp and stabbing. She cupped it with her hand, pressing down hard, feeling the area where her rib snapped in two. "Oh god," she groaned, trying to will the vomit to stay firmly in her stomach. They reached the end of the corridor, turning back simultaneously to check the Griever was still incapacitated.

Something slammed into her from the side, almost knocking her off her feet.

"You crazy son of a bitch," Minho yelled, but she couldn't tell if that lilt to his voice was annoyance or awe as he steadied her and promptly slung his arm around her shoulder, digging her into his side. "Thank God you didn't die."

"Likewise," Ada nodded, fighting to catch her breath.

The Griever snarled, the sound ripping through the air, its eyes fixed hungrily on them as it slashed at the last of the ivy. Minho blanched, nudging her down the corridor he had just come from. They must have been near section six, but she couldn't for the life of her pinpoint their exact location. Strands of sweaty hair stuck to her forehead, and she pushed them furiously out of her eyes, praying she would live long enough to be able to shower.

"Okay, come on," Minho said quickly, grabbing Thomas by the sleeve and tugging him away. "Follow me! Back this way!" The wall beside them crunched and shifted, colossal and massive as it began to slide away from them. "Okay it's changing, it's changing. Come on, come on, come on-"

They turned left, the open stretch of corridor ahead of them completely black with shadow. There was no light here, no hope, just them and the darkness. There was no ivy strung across the top of it, no tufts of dead plants stretching out from the gaps in the stone, only an expanse of smooth grey. "This section's closing," Ada mumbled, nudging the track marks on the ground with her shoe. The stone was scratched up, as if something heavy had scraped over it repeatedly. "It's closing, come on, we can lose it down here."

Minho nodded, already taking off at a sprint, not stopping to make sure they were following him. Taking a deep breath, Ada followed, letting the shadows consume her. It was only when she was halfway down the stretch of corridor that she realised Thomas was no longer at her side.

"Thomas?" Ada turned, eyes catching on the figure still at the end of the hallway. He wasn't looking at her, staring instead behind him at where they had come from. "Thomas, what the fuck are you doing?"

The wall began to move, sliding slowly towards her, ready to trap her where she stood.

"Ada!" Minho yelled, waving at her frantically. She looked back at Thomas, seeing his body tensed, primed, as if he were waiting for something.

He's waiting for the Griever, something clicked in her mind. "Are you stupid?!" She yelled, catching Thomas's attention for a brief moment. "Run, you idiot!" He ignored her, and the walls continued to close in.

She wasn't waiting around to see if he made it out.

Taking off at a sprint, Ada forced her legs to keep working until she reached Minho's side, leaving Thomas alone to face the consequences of his actions. Minho was gesturing frantically as he pushed her behind him, eyes fixed on Thomas. "Thomas c'mon! Run! Get out of there!"

"Thomas!"

Thomas yelled something, but she couldn't make it out over the roar of the maze wall as it shifted. Rubble dribbled from the top of the stone, scattering dust and debris in her hair. "He's not gonna make it," Minho shook his head, eyes wide and furious. "The idiot."

"Give him a chance." Ada said breathlessly. "He's fast."

"He's stupid."

"And fast."

"Let's hope it's enough," Minho cupped his hands around his mouth, "Thomas c'mon, run!"

He finally listened, breaking into a sprint right as movement exploded at the mouth of the corridor. The Griever crashed into the wall, not letting the impact deter it as it skidded after Thomas, legs scratching against stone and moving so quickly it was a wonder it hadn't already swallowed Thomas whole.

"Come on, Thomas!" Ada yelled, fingers closing around Minho's arm, "Don't look back! Just run!"

Thomas ignored her, sparing a quick look over his shoulder and letting out a panicked yell. The walls kept sliding, the back end of the corridor completely lost to the black. Ada's heart jumped into her throat. Once more the Griever's size was its downfall, the narrowing of the hallway a hindrance to its bulbous body. Its legs, working frantically against the walls, began to crush in on themselves.

"Move it, Thomas, c'mon!"

"Move your ass, c'mon! Let's go!"

The sight of the Griever coming at her, even with Thomas between them as a barrier, was enough to have her body itching to flee to safety.

"Come on, Greenie!"

Thomas yelled, the sound rife with strain and panic. The Griever was right there, practically on top of him.

"Thomas!"

There was a glint of teeth, a pained cry, and Ada couldn't watch anymore. She turned away, hands clamped over her eyes, unwilling to watch as Thomas got eaten alive, or crushed. The maze walls stopped moving, silence falling heavy, the only sound their frantic breathing.

"So," Thomas's voice cut through the quiet. "That worked."

"You're insane," Ada snapped, turning around to face him with wide eyes. "You're an idiot, and you're stupid, and I am so happy that you're alive."

Thomas blinked, a smile breaking out over his face. "Yeah, me too."

"You killed it." Minho said, dumbfounded. "Holy fuck, Greenie. You squished it."

"Yeah," Thomas said breathlessly. "Yeah, I did."

"The Greenie killed a Griever," Ada shook her head, "would you look at that."

Something screamed in the distance, slicing through their levity. "Come on," Minho said quietly. "We need to keep moving."

—

Ten hours. They still had ten hours trapped there. The corner of the maze they had found themselves in promised sanctuary for a brief moment, and they took the time to catch their breath, slumped against the walls. Ada was fairly certain that her rib was broken, each breath sharp and agonising, rattling in her chest.

"Lift your shirt up," Minho had said quietly, ignoring her raised eyebrow as he carefully lifted the fabric and pressed in on the bruises. He winced when she cried out, a sympathetic smile smoothing over his face. "Yeah, pretty sure you cracked one. Ouch."

"You don't say." She rolled her eyes.

"You gonna be okay until morning?" Thomas asked, sat across from her with his legs splayed out. Dark circles had begun to drag down his eyes, mottled bruising that made him look sick. She was fairly certain she didn't look much better, with her hair stained with sweat and blood and escaping from her ponytail in all sorts of directions.

They had to move after the fourth hour, when the sounds of a nearby Griever drew too close for their liking. "Where are we?" She asked, unable to recognise the patterns of the corridors in the fogged haze of exhaustion and pain in her mind.

"Section six," Minho said. "We need to start making our way back to four, the others will be waiting for us at the doors."

None of them mentioned that it was a long way to go, hours worth of running, and their chances of making it back in one piece were slim to none. "How do you think Alby is doing?" She asked quietly as they moved slowly through the corridors, carefully checking around each corner before they dared to venture there. "We left him strung up, but it's been a few hours."

Minho didn't reply, but the grim look on his face spoke volumes.

Thomas seemed to notice it as well. "You don't think he's-"

"I think we need to keep moving." Minho's normally expressive eyes were narrowed with focus, every inch of his body tensed like a live wire. His knuckles were white around the dagger he clutched in his grip. Ada had forgotten, in the haze of everything that had happened, about her own weapon – she drew it out, the weight comforting in her hand.

They walked for hours, only stopping four times with their backs pressed tight against the wall, sure that they were going to die. It would be a miracle if her heart didn't give out from the strain of it all, Ada was sure.

"Stop," Minho hissed, flinging a hand out to still them as he peered slowly around the corridor. He withdrew quickly, plastering his back flat against the stone. Ada mirrored him, forcing Thomas to do the same.

"Griever?" She whispered, already knowing the answer. Her heart sank when he nodded.

"Just one."

Metallic clicking slid across the stone repeatedly, until eventually there was silence. Minho slowly peered around the corner again, making sure to look up as well.

"Okay, it's gone. It went right, so we go left."

"Can we get back that way?" Thomas asked.

Ada nodded. "It'll just take longer."

The sky was slowly starting to lighten by the time they reached four, the first swaths of pale blue splitting across the stars. They rounded the final corner, and Ada let out a relieved breath. Alby hung right where they left him, his body still limp and unresponsive. The fact that he was still unconscious should have terrified her, but the niggle of panic was nothing compared to the sheer relief that he too had made it through the night.

"Help me get him down," Thomas patted Minho's shoulder, already moving towards him.

By the time Alby was slumped against the wall opposite them, Ada's hand on his pulsepoint just to be sure, the ground was already shifting beneath them with the telltale grumble of the earth.

Minho laughed, the sound like a breath of fresh air, and reached forward to cup her face with his hands. "We did it, Ads." He pressed a hard kiss against her forehead, grinning down at her. "We made it."

She couldn't form words through the relief.

Thomas clapped her on the shoulder, his own lips quirking into a relieved smile. He leant down, slinging one of Alby's arms over his.

"Come on, Ads." Minho climbed to his feet, extending a hand down to her. "Let's go home."

Smiling for the first time in what felt like years, Ada slid her hand into his and nodded.