"He's finally whacked for good," Minho said, almost in a whisper. I absorbed the intensity of his words. That was my brother. My own brother. And all I did, was smile. I began to race for the door, my breaths heavy, until a strong arm pulled me back. "Not yet, we'll bloody get him. We need to buggin decide Thomas, and get to you,"

Solemnly nodding, I retreated to my seat in defeat. "He's finally whacked for good," Minho muttered again, his awe a mix of surprise and fear. "Well, you're not the bloody saint in the room," Newt said, turning to him. "What were you thinking? That was a little overboard, don't ya think?"

Minho squinched up his eyes and pulled his head back, as if he were baffled by Newt's question. "Don't give me that garbage. Every one of you loved seeing that slinthead get his dues, and you know it. It's about time someone stood up to his klunk."

"Careful Minho," I growled. "He's on the Council for a reason," Newt said.
"Dude, he threatened to break my neck and kill Thomas! The guy is mentally whacked, and you better send someone right now to throw him in the Slammer. He's dangerous."

"Maybe he had a good point," Winston said, almost too quietly. I took a step forward, unsure where to be.

"What?" Minho asked. Wins tins mouth lay slightly agape, surprise in his own words. "Well ... he has been through the Changing-Griever stung him in the middle of the day just outside the West Door. That means he has memories, and he said the Greenie looks familiar. Why would he make that up?"

I strides towards Winston, and though he was much taller than me, he backed away slightly. "Listen, slinthead, Gally remembered me too. And he doesn't want to kill me,"

He darted his eyes around. "Because your his sister,"

I rolled my eyes, "so what? You gonna do what he won't?" I inched closer, or faces inches apart. A sneering smile spread across my face, "you gonna kill me?"

He looked at me in astonishment. "What... No! But maybe gally was right," he said, reverting his gaze to the floor. "Winston, did you see what just happened?" Frypan asked, looking incredulous. "Gally's psycho. You can't put too much stock in his rambling nonsense. What, you think Thomas here is a griever in disguise?"

"Can I say something now?"

I had forgotten Thomas was still here. His figure lay slumped in his chair. "I'm sick of you guys talking about me like I'm not here."

Newt glanced up at him and nodded. "Go ahead. This bloody meetin' can't be much more screwed up."

His face was a screwed up mix of anger, frustration and confusion. An anomaly of emotions into one boy. "I don't know why Gally hates me. I don't care. He seems psychotic to me. As for who I really am, you all know just as much as I do. But if I remember correctly, we're here because of what I did out in the Maze, not because some idiot thinks I'm evil."

Someone snickered, and Thomas had stopped. Seemingly getting his point across. "Newt nodded, looking satisfied. "Good that. Let's get this meeting over with and worry about Gally later."

"We can't vote without all the members here," Winston insisted. "Unless they're really sick, like Alby."

"For the love, Winston," Newt replied. "I'd say Gally's a wee bit ill today, too, so we continue without him. Thomas, defend yourself and then we'll take the vote on what we should do with you."

Thomas unclenched his fists, and I leaned forward. Eager to hear the words spill out of his mouth. "I didn't do anything wrong. All I know is I saw two people struggling to get inside these walls and they couldn't make it. To ignore that because of some stupid rule seemed selfish, cowardly, and ... well, stupid. If you want to throw me in jail for trying to save someone's life, then go ahead. Next time I promise I'll point at them and laugh, then go eat some of Frypan's dinner."

I leaned back, relaxing. I knew Thomas wasn't trying to be funny or cruel, but it had a sadistic tone to it. His dark humor hit a spot in the gladers, a spot of unity crumbling. I felt it too.

"Here's my recommendation," Newt said. "You broke our bloody Number One Rule, so you get one day in the Slammer. That's your punishment. I also recommend we elect you as a Runner, effective the second this meeting's over. You've proven more in one night than most trainees do in weeks. As for you being the buggin' Keeper, forget it." He looked over at Minho. "Gally was right on that count-stupid idea."

He looked to Minho for his reaction.
The Keeper didn't seem surprised, but argued all the same. "Why? He's the best we have-I swear it. The best should be the Keeper."

"Fine," Newt responded. "If that's true, we'll make the change later. Give it a month and see if he proves himself."
Minho shrugged. "Good that."

Newt was right, and do was my brother. But I knew what Minho was doing. It was his little, aim high, hit low. I'd seen it before. When he wouldn't let me out of the tree and said I'd have to kiss him, but got one on the cheek instead. It was better than getting kneed in the balls.

Newt glanced around the room.

"Okay, we had several recommendations, so let's give it a go-round-"

"Oh, come on," Frypan said. "Just vote. I vote for yours."

"Me too," Minho said. Everyone approved except Winston, and me; who hadn't spoken yet. Newt looked at Winston. "We don't need your vote, but tell us what's bonkin' around your brain."

Winston gazed at Thomas carefully, then back to Newt. "It's fine with me, but we shouldn't totally ignore what Gally said. Something about it I don't think he just made it up. And it's true that ever since Thomas got here, everything's been shucked and screwy. Even a little when Joanie got here."

"Fair enough," Newt said. "Everyone put some thought into it-maybe when we get right nice and bored we can have another Gathering to talk about it. Good that?"

Winston nodded.

Thomas groaned, his invisibility back. "I love how you guys are just talking about me like I'm not here."

"Look, Tommy," Newt said. "We just elected you as a buggin' Runner. Quit your cryin' and get out of here. Minho has a lot of training to give you. But before you do that Minho, we got a certain lady-shank to talk about,"

Minho nodded, glancing at me.

"What about my punishment?" Thomas asked, a slight dread in his voice.

"Tomorrow," Newt answered. "The wake-up till sunset."

Thomas nodded, and went to leave before Newt stopped him. "Actually... Bloody hell, shuck to the rules- you were there when Joanie was in the maze, you can help," Newt muttered, rubbing a hand through his hair.

He nodded, a bit of shock in his gleaming eyes, and awkwardly stood. "Joannah please take a seat,"

I sat in the center seat, it's openness intimidating in the strange light. My seat lay empty, along with Alby. It was a taunting reminder. The one who hurt, and the one who got hurt. Newt pulled my chair aside, off the council, but not completely, and gestures for Thomas to sit down.

Warily lowering into his seat, the rest of the council stayed seated. Gallys chair lay in ruins, and I still had the urge to chase after him. I wanted to make sure he was safe. "Okay, since everything's already bloody shucked up, and since this is... Different..." He paused, forming the right words, "let's try to keep order, okay?"

Frypan stood up, after Newt gestures to him. "Before I start, I wanna know exactly what were deciding," he said, wave an arm at me.

Yeah me too.

Sighing Newt raised, "well, same as Thomas. Running into the maze. And... Because she thinks she created the grievers,"

"No. I know I created them," I blurted. "Joanie, your not on the bloody council right now. I'm going to have to ask you to stay bloody quiet," Newt said.

"Newt you're wrong," I said, looking him in the eyes. "What do you mean?" He asked, and I saw confusion. I cared for him a lot, and to think I put him in deaths path...

"I am on the council. And I would like to make a recommendation," I said, bravely. I would even surprise myself with what I was about to say.

"Yeah I bet," Winston muttered. Newt glared at him, but his gaze returned to me. "Yes. Ok. Fine. What's your bloody recommendation?" He asked, a frustrated an innocent look in his eyes.

"Maybe... M-maybe a banishment,"