CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
• the first death •

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mentions of suicide/death

EVONY RUMMAGED THROUGH the crates, her fingers picking out another wooden board to scan her eyes over. Her fingers traced over the carved paths, mentally noting the label of SECTION 2 that was headed on top of the board. She paused to think for a moment before laying it next to the other Section 2 boards she had already pulled out from other boxes.

"Can we be done, now?"

She continued to flip through the wood pieces in the current crate she was working on. Heaving the remaining four in her arms, she lifted them out of the box and shut the lid firmly back on. "You haven't even done anything," she claimed, using the piece of chalk she had to write a big X on the side of the box.

Minho stared at her blankly, flipping a shard of wood over in his hand. "We've been at this for what-two hours? If there was a pattern we would've found it."

A grunt left her lips as she ripped off the lid to another crate; she pulled out three more wooden boards. She then laid them down in front of her so she could study the differences in the carved paths. "Maybe if you were helping," she retorted back to him. Evony glanced up to see him shake his head.

"I am helping," Minho informed, "Me standing here is giving you moral support." He immitated himself cheering, "Go, woo! You can do this!"

Evony scoffed, not finding amusement in his answer. "I don't need moral support, I need physical help."

"You should've asked Thomas, then," The Keeper shrugged. He flipped the piece of wood into the air and caught it between his thumb and pointer finger.

She stopped at his words, peering across the room at her friend who was looking at her with a smug smile. "Okay.." she hesitated, standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants, "Why him?"

A look of disbelief ran across his face; he pushed himself off the crate he was sitting on and walked over to where she was standing. Evony kept a deadpan expression as he stared at her with a knowing look. Then Minho laughed-not a mocking or joyful laugh, but one of slight bewilderment. "That shank might have the attention span of a duck, but he'll sure as hell do anything if the orders come out of your pretty little mouth."

She found herself rolling her eyes, "It's just because I'm second-in-command. He's basically obliged to listen to me."

Now came the actual laugh from Minho. He doubled over, guffawing at her statement like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "Evy, he follows you around like a lost puppy."

"No he doesn't."

"Uh, yes he does."

"No."

"Yes."

"Name one time," she pressed.

"Yesterday morning," Minho said coolly, "Max was trying to get him to climb one of the vines on the wall for fun. He was going to do it until you walked by and he chased after you without even saying goodbye."

Evony thought back to the moment he was speaking of. She remembered seeing Max, Minho and Thomas huddled in a circle that morning. Not thinking much of it she had continued to walk by with a disappointed shake of the head. "He had a question. No big deal."

The Keeper raised an eyebrow at her, thoroughly unconvinced that was all there was to it. He bent down to grab one of the wooden boards that were sitting by her feet, examined it for a second, then tossed it back her way. "And what was that meaningless question."

"Hey, Evs. I was wondering if you wanted to hangout tonight...alone...with me?"

"Nothing, important," she shrugged, but she felt her face heating up at her words. Now she could only think of that night-that night when they fell asleep against a tree with their heads propped up on each other.

Evony turned her body, pretending to go back to looking at the boards she had been separating for the past few hours. The expected remark from Minho didn't come instantly like she'd presumed, which somehow made things worse since she could practically feel his gaze on her back.

"If you're done blushing at the thought of Thomas underneath you. Can you tell me your theory again."

Momentarily stunned out of her thoughts, Evony raced to defend herself from the accusation. "I was not-"

"Your theory," Minho smirked, waving his hand out in front of him to gesture for her to speak. She stayed silent, only glaring at her best friend who's smug expression managed to stay the same the entire time.

"Right," she paused for a moment, refiguring her brain to focus on the new topic, "so you obviously know how weird it was when I got attacked by those spiky things."

"Yeah?" he questioned with a look of curiosity. Neither of them went into further detail for a proper name for the metal objects that attacked her.

Evony bent down to pick up a couple of the recent boards she'd looked at. Their patterns were from section 5-the section where she had nearly died. "Well I was thinking that maybe there was a pattern or something we missed that could have led me into the trap."

"Like a change in the sequence?"

"Exactly."

"So," Minho came up behind her, looking over her shoulder at the scattered boards. She felt his presence over her shoulder until he kneeled down to get a closer look. "Did you find anything?"

"No," Evony sighed, running a hand through her hair from exhaustion.

"Maybe it was just a fluke?

"A fluke that almost killed me?" she deadpanned, "Sounds unlikely."

Minho glanced up at her from his spot on the floor. "In a place like this, not really."

"I don't know, Min." She felt her voice rise with her words. "We've been here for two years and have found nothing. Not a single thing. Don't you think there has to be something we're missing?"

Minho heard the tension in her words and rushed to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Everyone knew Evony was slow to anger, but sometimes she let the frustration she withheld against others weigh herself down. "I think we would've found it, honestly. But, hey, let's not be sad."

He spun her around and forced her to take a seat on one of the crates, "Here, I'll give you something to make fun of me for."

"Is this you trying to be nice?" Evony chuckled.

"Yes, now shut up i'm about to tell you something no one else knows," The Keeper took a deep breath; for a moment she was concerned for what he was about to say. Minho almost never looked nervous. "I like Ben."

"Well, yeah, i kind of caught you guys having-"

"No, Evy," he intervened, "I like him more than just wanting his dick up my ass."

"Aww, Minho's in love," she cooed, clapping her hands happily.

"No! Not in love!"

She rested her head in the palms of her hands while her feet swung back and forth from the spot on the crate. "You and your perfect hair, always playing tough guy-"

"Evony-"

"Who knew there was such a soft side-"

"Says you," Minho pointed; she could see him growing defensive in their bickering. Sometimes she surprised herself with how quick she could make him annoyed, "You're in love with an idiot who can't put his pants on without falling over."

Her eyes closed into slits, eyeing her best friend with a look of disbelief. She refused to believe that she was actually in love with the boy. To her concern she simply felt a slight attraction to him. Then again, it could've been denial. "Why are you targeting me? I'm supposed to be making fun of you, remember?"

"You didn't deny you love him." Minho crossed his arms, his demeanor had changed significantly.

"I don't."

He snickered, "Yeah, and I think boys are ugly."

"Stop redirecting the conversation from yourself," she copied his actions, lacing her arms over one another, "You like someone, we should talk about it."

He waved her off, "No, now I'm concerned; if you really like Thomas then I'm going to have to talk with him before he's allowed to date you."

"Minho, no."

"Minho, yes"

Her eyes widened, "No, please, Max is still traumatized from when you two talked."

"He is?"

"Yes, said you scared the shit out of him."

"Oh, job well done then," he smirked. Evony kicked him in the leg, but her annoyance soon faded as a laugh slipped through her lips. It was times like this where she didn't mind being with the boys; not when her friends were able to brighten her day with their personalities.

Smiling, she pushed herself off the crate and sunk to the ground. She then began the process of placing the boards back into their assigned boxes. Stacking them upon each other, she piled up the wooden pieces on top of the ones with the same section number. Minho helped her as well-which she was incredibly thankful-Evony wasn't sure how much more her patience could last if she had to spend another hour just to undo her work.

Once the two were done they stood up, brushing the dust off on their shorts and wiping the fake sweat of their foreheads. Minho initiated their handshake-consisting of them wrapping their middle fingers around each other, shaking them like a normal handshake, then sticking the finger up at each other for no reason at all. It was a stupid sequence they had come up with when they first came up the box.

After that Evony bid her friend goodbye and exited the Map Room. She'd had a long day; now all she wanted to do now was shower.

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The water rolled down his back in small droplets. Wet hair fell over his forehead which he used his fingers to push back out of his eyes. Steam surrounded his body, making the shower room heat up with dew. His mind was racing with endless possibilities of what to say-all of the different ways he could phrase such a simple sentence.

The shower was supposed to help him relax; to give his mind a break from thinking over the same thing time and time again. Being with her only heightened the thoughts, so he'd figured that warm water and slight privacy would allow him to rid his daydreams. Even if it would only be for a little.

Spoiler alert: it didn't work.

If anything it made it worse. It was almost scary how perfectly he could remember the night he danced with her in the rain. The way her hands ran through his hair; her arms wrapped around his neck while his went to her waist. Sometimes he wondered if Evony did some of it on purpose; if she did, did she do it just for his reaction? Just to see him internally panic as his skin burned from wherever hers made contact on his body.

When he had first realized he liked her: he wasn't worried about anything. It was nothing more than him thinking she was kind and pretty. But then something changed. As if a spell had been put on him overnight, Thomas was suddenly aware about everything.

Did his hair look okay? Was he running fast enough? Was he working hard enough? Did she think he was cute? Did she like somebody else more than a friend?

Paranoia became his new best friend; it attached to him like a leech. The hardest part was that he also wanted to be with her-in her presence at any point of the day. He loved her company. He loved her personality, her smile, her laugh.

Then someone was speaking, and Thomas felt as if they had been able to read his mind.

"Tommy, ya in here?"

Thomas banged his hand against the side of the shower stall. The sudden interruption to his thoughts had startled him and caused him to fly his hands out to his side in defense. With a sign of realization that it was just Newt, he shook out his hands and turned the dial to stop the water.

"Newt?" He grabbed the towel hanging on top of the door and used it to dry off his hair. Once he was done he wrapped it around his waist and let it hang low on his hips.

Creaking open the door, he spotted the blonde in the middle of the room. He was stripping off his shoes and socks as he got ready for a shower of his own. Thomas stepped closer to him, running a hand through his damp hair that was sticking down to his forehead. The blonde seemed to finally notice his staring as he turned to face him after pulling off his shirt.

"Hey?" He addressed the brunet, his lips pulling into a frown at his friend's concentrated expression. Thomas pursed his lips in thought, bowing his head down and tapping his foot in thought.

Newt tapped Thomas on the shoulder, bringing him back to the moment. The runner blinked rapidly, coming to a rest once he realized it was just his friend in front of him. "Sorry, I was thinking."

"Judging from your red face, I'm guessing it's got to do with someone special," Newt nudged him, causing Thomas to only flush deeper and swat away his hand.

"Don't make fun of me."

That got a laugh out of the second in command. He raked his hands through his floppy hair, going to turn on one of the showers. Thomas watched him eagerly as he did so, taking notice of the way the blonde's hair laid in comparison to his own. Newts was definitely fluffier; while his was flatter against his forehead. Did Evony like the way his looked? Or would she rather it longer like the boy in front of him?

"You should be lucky I'm not Minho or Max," he stated firmly, "Now, what's your question?"

Thomas gave a confused nod, "What question?"

The blonde gestured to his face with his hand; he grabbed a towel from a table on the other side of the room, "You have a question. I can tell."

"Oh, uh-"

"Come on, mate. Spit it out."

The brunet paced around the room, the towel still hung at his hips. He sensed his friends eyes on him, but did nothing to acknowledge the fact; he was too busy weighing his options. Did he ask Newt and risk getting laughed at, or did he deal with the pressure of telling her alone?

"Could I pretend telling Evony I like her by pretending you're her and saying it to you?" he rushed out. Thomas felt his heart beating quickly as he waited for a reply; he wasn't even sure if what he said made sense.

Apparently it didn't, because Newt stared at him blankly for a few seconds before giving back an answer. "You want me to pretend I'm her?"

"Yes," the runner nodded as if it was nothing.

The blonde frowned, "And then confess your liking to me, but you'll pretend I'm her?"

"Yeah."

Newt hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, let's hear it."

Now Thomas was preparing himself. He thought over what he'd rehearsed in his head and shook his hands by his side to get the nerves out. "Okay," he faced his friend, gesturing his hands out to him, "Newt, we've known each other for a while now. We're friends-good friends- I was thinking maybe we-"

He was distracted by the smile creeping onto the blonde's face, trying to hide his laughter.

"Don't laugh!" Thomas exclaimed, "I'm going to try again."

"Go right ahead."

He took a deep breath, "Newt, you are an amazing girl-"

Laughter erupted in the room.

"Newt!" Thomas whined, stomping his foot like a child, "You're supposed to help me."

"I am!" he defended, running a hand over his face to calm himself down, "I'm sorry, Tommy, but it's hard to stay focused when you look like you're about to klunk your pants at every word."

"Just let me try one more time," he begged. The runner walked back and forth a couple of times, thinking of the right wording for his question. He knew there would never be a perfect speech for him to say, but nonetheless he would try.

"Newt, I look in your eyes and-"

"Start again."

Thomas huffed. "Newt, you're the best person I know. You make me smile, and your laughter makes me feel all fuzzy inside. Almost to the point of throwing up, but that's okay, because it's you." He didn't continue; he wanted to have feedback before he progressed.

The second in command gave a light round of applause, he clapped the brunet on the shoulder. "Almost sounds like you're bloody in love with me," he gave a sharp laugh, "That was good, besides the throwing up. Don't say that; she doesn't want to hear about you puking after having a conversation with her."

Thomas went to answer when a knock on the door sounded. His words died as he turned to see the wood shaking slightly from the impact of the person fist. Newt nodded behind him, silently telling him to get the door. The brunet refused until he was being physically pushed towards the entrance.

Grumbling out incoherent words he walked sluggishly up to the door and swung it open. At first he was confused why the person hadn't just walked in-after all it was the bathroom everyone used-until he opened it and saw her.

He was the one who made the mistake of stepping an extra couple inches when he opened the door, because now they were standing awfully close to each other.

Him being shirtless only made it worse; now he was overthinking if her eyes had actually trailed down to his chest or not.

Evony was the first to snap out of it. "Thomas," she greeted, her breath short, "hey.."

"Hi," he smiled, then suddenly he shot out of the trance too. He scurried to reposition himself-which ended up being him leaning his elbow against the doorway. She went red at the action, and he lowered his arm immediately in fear that he had made her uncomfortable or embarrassed.

Thomas glanced back into the showers, there was nobody in there except for Newt who was in one of the stalls. "You wanna shower?" he asked, jutting his thumb back behind him.

Evony flushed an even deeper, "No, well yes, but I'll wait until everyone's out."

"Oh, right."

"Yeah," she hesitated, her eyes fixed on him. "I'll see you later tonight?"

The brunet nodded, pulling in his lips to hide his smile. Evony quickly waved goodbye before rushing out of the area. Seeing him shirtless had jump started something in her body, and even now she was still walking about with flushed cheeks. It was like her whole body went on autopilot, and she knew exactly why.

For the first time since Thomas had arrived, she'd thought of something better to do with him, and yes, it didn't involve a shirt.

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The next morning, Evony woke to the noise of someone knocking on her door. Out of instinct, she rolled over onto her other side, tucking her head farther into the blankets to block out the sound. However, whoever was behind the door didn't stop; instead continuing to repeat the action until it was too unbearably annoying for her to ignore.

She turned back over, letting her eyes peep over to the source of the sound. The door was gently shaking from the impact, but besides that it was staying firmly latched. She couldn't believe that it was already time for her to get up; it felt like she had just shut her eyes seconds ago.

Evony also knew that if someone was purposefully trying to wake her up, then she'd either have overslept or there was a chance that something bad had happened. With the chance of it being the second option, she forced herself awake and trudged over to grab the handle of her door.

She was met with a panicked Fry. His face withheld a serious expression, fighting to keep too many emotions to be revealed on his face. Beads of sweat were dragging down his forward, and his hands were now dropped into his pockets. Evony looked at him with confusion, but stepped forward to comfort by placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong," she managed to ask gently; however, that bit of authority she got from being second-in-command hinted through. Frypan only shook his head and beckoned for her to follow him out of the hut. Luckily she was dressed enough so she could leave with him, so that's what she did.

The pair made it a few steps out into the forest before Fry stopped them both by placing a hand out in front of her. Evony glanced up at him as he began to speak. "Evy, you need to help," Fry cautioned, "everyone is already panicked."

Now she was more intrigued. "I will," she claimed, then pushed past her friend and into the clearing. The scene was easy to spot; several boys standing in a circle gazing down to something near their feet. Evony jogged quickly over to where they were, Thomas spotting her first as he had been looking for her in the first place.

She didn't get a chance to acknowledge his presence, though, because Newt met her half way and pulled her along to where he and Alby were standing. Their leader was already barking orders at the gladers who were staring at the scene with wide eyes.

Newt kept a grip on her arm as he kept her a couple feet away from the teens that were vigorously shouting at one another. "What's going on?" she asked, still unable to see over the taller humans.

The blonde's eyes widened and yelled at a couple gladers to step out of the way. Evony side-eyed everyone who was glaring at her and made her way to the front of the circle. There, in the middle of the group was a body.

A bloody, deformed body that looked to have had its head bashed in several times. Evony spotted the source of the weapon almost instantly. A single brick that laid a couple feet away from the person's head. Dried blood stained the rough edges of the block, almost covering the entire surface.

The body was a glader named Jake-the Keeper of the Brick-nicks. He was someone she was never too close with, but in that moment she'd wished that she had known him a little better. Suicide attempts in the glade wasn't a rare thing, but actual commitments proved much less likely.

But that wasn't the only thing out of place. Right below the boy's feet was red lettering that had been smeared against a piece of wood.

YOUR FIRST WARNING

Evony stared at the message for a second, then bent down to examine the sticky liquid that was coating two of the boy's fingers. It was clear that he was the one to write the message and give himself the injuries. Normally she wouldn't be as worried about a death-not in an unemotional way, but in a way that wasn't only sentimental. Normally she and the other keepers would host a small funeral and have a burying ceremony; then that would be it. The gladers would go back to their normal lives and try not to think about the passing of their beloved friend.

But there was something else with this death. The message. If Jake had been the one to write the message then it was possible it was just a prank. A scheme, a trick-something he did for his own enjoyment. But that didn't seem like something a Keeper would do, so she ruled that out.

Complaints were coming from several directions around her, each person ordering others around with no real leadership. Alby and Newt were attempting to hold a few boys back from going at each other, because somehow a couple fights had broken out amidst all the chaos. Evony saw Chuck out of the corner of her eyes-he was standing up against Thomas' side with the older boy's hand wrapped around his waist. The two were stepped away from the scene; the curly haired boy was also turned backwards.

Evony slid over to them, tapping Thomas on the shoulder to gain his attention. "You need to get Chuck and the rest of the Runners out of here," she told him, "We can deal with the body, but not when everyone's crowding it."

He unsurely nodded at her words; Thomas seemed hesitant to go, glancing down at Chuck and seeing his fingers grip the material of his shirt. "You sure? I could probably help in some-"

"Thomas," she asserted, and he knew he wasn't going to win this argument. The brunet gave a quick nod and spun around so he could lead Chuck off in the other direction.

Evony turned back to the group. Using the best commander tone she could, she ordered everyone except the Brick-Nicks and Jake's friends to retrieve back to their posts. Soon she, Newt and Alby got everyone to scurry off back to their designated spots, leaving only a remnant of five gladers in front of them. The ones left looked scared, like they were in trouble or caught guilty of a crime. She figured that would be anybody's expression if someone they knew died before they could try to help them.

That was sort of how she was feeling-guilty. Like she should've been able to know her fellow glader wasn't in the right mindset. It was her responsibility to take care of the boys-she was Second-in-command after all-yet this was only one of many that had been able to slip out of her grasp.

So she did what every other human with a heart would do. She blamed herself.

"Did any of ya recognize any off behavior from Jake in the past few days?" Newt asked the group to which they shook their heads disappointingly. Evony felt her heart lurch again and forced her eyes to stray up to the sky so they wouldn't be focused on the blood sitting inches from her toes. She stopped paying attention to the conversation; her mind was only allowing her to play images of her friends in the same spot Jake was currently in.

She saw Thomas. She saw Minho. She saw Max. She saw everyone else that she cared for so deeply in the same situation the boy was in. But most of all it brought her back to Newt, and how her and Alby had found him that day inside the maze. The memory playing like a movie, her mind fixating on the one scene where Newt realized for the first time that his attempt hadn't worked, and instead was left with a permanent limp.

Except Jake wasn't like Newt in this situation, because the attempt was successful, and he was dead.

Evony shook herself out of the past and attempted to listen in on the current conversation. She knew she had missed most of it-her mind having been occupied with other intrusive thoughts-but she did manage to catch the last few words of one of the boys' speeches.

"-he came up to me one day and said I was supposed to be dead," a red-headed glader stated. The frightened look on his face showed that he was just as confused about that statement as the rest of them.

Yet, her and Newt made an instant connection; their heads turned towards each other in a blink of an eye; she knew they were both thinking the exact same thing.

Alec.

They needed to talk to Alec.

Alby moved to stand in front of the two second in command. He motioned for the rest of the boys to gradually turn back around towards the gardens. "Great, let's wrap up this chit-chat before Jake magically wakes back up to give us an ass kicking for not burying his body."

"Alby-" the red-head tried, "Can I be there- for- for the funeral?"

"I'm not hosting a lousy funeral for someone who made the choice to die," the leader stated.

Evony went still, watching tears start to brim at the red-heads eyes. She felt bad for the boy; Jake might not have been her friend-or acquaintance of any sort-but that didn't mean that there wasn't anyone who cared about him.

The boy peered at the three of them for a few more seconds before lifting up his chin and wiping his nose with his sleeve. With that he turned around, following the rest of the Brick-nicks who had already left at Albys first command

Nobody spoke for a total of ten seconds; they only watched as the guilty boy slugged away from them, his shoulders hanging low. Alby was the one who dared to make the first command. "Evony go get a tarp and shovel; Newt go grab Gally and Aaron to help move the body," he pointed, "I'll get rid of the bloody board."

Evony didn't like how their leader skipped over the idea of letting anyone grief over the boy. "But what about-"

"Evony, I know you want to give him a proper passing, but we can't afford causing any more commotion," Alby informed, piercing his gaze into her eyes. Her lips pressed together; she forced herself to nod. It was times like this where she didn't agree with his orders.

She didn't say anything, and instead turned to follow Newt who was heading towards the forest. The latter kept glancing over at her, making sure that she was okay after being declined from her proposition. Newt knew Evony hated anything to do with death; death meant change, and that was something she had difficulty dealing with.

Evony only kept her mouth shut; she wasn't going to risk starting trouble between her and her leader. However, if going behind her his back was what it would take to give Jake the funeral he deserved, then that's what she would do.

She wasn't going to let him or anyone else leave this life without some sort of goodbye. Not like Nick.

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MAE's FUN NOTES
half of this chapter was written
on loopy meds 👍👍👍

But ANYWAY the surgery went
great and I'm doing good as of
now. I just have to rehab and
NOT fall for 6 weeks so yeah

also this chapter is all over the
place I'm sorry but take the
5000 words I wrote 🤘