sliver of muted fear, similar to what he’d experienced that morning when he stepped toward the window to see the Griever.
“Hold on!” Alby yelled, silencing everyone. “Just hold on!”
“Well, what’s wrong?” someone yelled back.
Alby stood up. “Two Newbies in two days,” he said, almost in a whisper. “Now this. Two years, nothing different, now this.” Then, for some reason, he looked straight at Thomas. “What’s goin’ on here, Greenie?”
Thomas stared back, confused, his face turning bright red, his gut clenching. “How am I supposed to know?”
“Why don’t you just tell us what the shuck is down there, Alby?” Gally called out. There were more murmurs and another surge forward.
“You shanks shut up!” Alby yelled. “Tell ’em, Newt.”
Newt looked down in the Box one more time, then faced the crowd, gravely.
“It’s a girl,” he said.
Everyone started talking at once; Thomas only caught pieces here and there.
“A girl?”
“I got dibs!”
“What’s she look like?”
“How old is she?”
Thomas was drowning in a sea of confusion.
A girl?
He hadn’t even thought about why the Glade only had boys, no girls. Hadn’t even had the chance to notice, really.
Who is she?
he wondered
. Why
—
Newt shushed them again. “That’s not bloody half of it,” he said, then pointed down into the Box. “I think she’s dead.”
A couple of boys grabbed some ropes made from ivy vines and lowered Alby and Newt into the Box so they could retrieve the girl’s body. A mood of reserved shock had come over most of the Gladers, who were milling about with solemn faces, kicking loose rocks and not saying much at all. No one dared admit they couldn’t wait to see the girl, but Thomas assumed they were all just as curious as he was.
Gally was one of the boys holding on to the ropes, ready to hoisther, Alby, and Newt out of the Box. Thomas watched him closely. His eyes were laced with something dark—almost a sick fascination. A gleam that made Thomas suddenly more scared of him than he’d been minutes earlier.
From deep in the shaft came Alby’s voice shouting that they were ready, and Gally and a couple of others started pulling up on the rope. A few grunts later and the girl’s lifeless body was dragged out, across the edge of the door and onto one of the stone blocks making up the ground of the Glade. Everyone immediately ran forward, forming a packed crowd around her, a palpable excitement hovering in the air. But Thomas stayed back. The eerie silence gave him the creeps, as if they’d just opened up a recently laid tomb.
Despite his own curiosity, Thomas didn’t bother trying to force his way through to get a look—the bodies were too tightly squeezed together. But he
had
caught a glimpse of her before being blocked off. She was thin, but not too small. Maybe five and a half feet tall, from what he could tell. She looked like she could be fifteen or sixteen years old, and her hair was tar black. But the thing that had really stood out to him was her skin: pale, white as pearls.
Newt and Alby scrambled out of the Box after her, then forced their way through to the girl’s lifeless body, the crowd re-forming behind to cut them off from Thomas’s view. Only a few seconds later, the group parted again, and Newt was pointing straight at Thomas.
“Greenie, get over here,” he said, not bothering to be polite about it.
Thomas’s heart jumped into his throat; his hands started to sweat. What did they want him for? Things just kept getting worse and worse. He forced himself to walk forward, trying to seem innocent without acting like someone who was guilty who was trying to act innocent.
Oh, calm it
, he told himself.
You haven’t done anything wrong
. But he had a strange feeling that maybe he had without realizing it.
The boys lining the path to Newt and the girl glared at him as he walked past, as if he were responsible for the entire mess of the Maze and the Glade and
“Hold on!” Alby yelled, silencing everyone. “Just hold on!”
“Well, what’s wrong?” someone yelled back.
Alby stood up. “Two Newbies in two days,” he said, almost in a whisper. “Now this. Two years, nothing different, now this.” Then, for some reason, he looked straight at Thomas. “What’s goin’ on here, Greenie?”
Thomas stared back, confused, his face turning bright red, his gut clenching. “How am I supposed to know?”
“Why don’t you just tell us what the shuck is down there, Alby?” Gally called out. There were more murmurs and another surge forward.
“You shanks shut up!” Alby yelled. “Tell ’em, Newt.”
Newt looked down in the Box one more time, then faced the crowd, gravely.
“It’s a girl,” he said.
Everyone started talking at once; Thomas only caught pieces here and there.
“A girl?”
“I got dibs!”
“What’s she look like?”
“How old is she?”
Thomas was drowning in a sea of confusion.
A girl?
He hadn’t even thought about why the Glade only had boys, no girls. Hadn’t even had the chance to notice, really.
Who is she?
he wondered
. Why
—
Newt shushed them again. “That’s not bloody half of it,” he said, then pointed down into the Box. “I think she’s dead.”
A couple of boys grabbed some ropes made from ivy vines and lowered Alby and Newt into the Box so they could retrieve the girl’s body. A mood of reserved shock had come over most of the Gladers, who were milling about with solemn faces, kicking loose rocks and not saying much at all. No one dared admit they couldn’t wait to see the girl, but Thomas assumed they were all just as curious as he was.
Gally was one of the boys holding on to the ropes, ready to hoisther, Alby, and Newt out of the Box. Thomas watched him closely. His eyes were laced with something dark—almost a sick fascination. A gleam that made Thomas suddenly more scared of him than he’d been minutes earlier.
From deep in the shaft came Alby’s voice shouting that they were ready, and Gally and a couple of others started pulling up on the rope. A few grunts later and the girl’s lifeless body was dragged out, across the edge of the door and onto one of the stone blocks making up the ground of the Glade. Everyone immediately ran forward, forming a packed crowd around her, a palpable excitement hovering in the air. But Thomas stayed back. The eerie silence gave him the creeps, as if they’d just opened up a recently laid tomb.
Despite his own curiosity, Thomas didn’t bother trying to force his way through to get a look—the bodies were too tightly squeezed together. But he
had
caught a glimpse of her before being blocked off. She was thin, but not too small. Maybe five and a half feet tall, from what he could tell. She looked like she could be fifteen or sixteen years old, and her hair was tar black. But the thing that had really stood out to him was her skin: pale, white as pearls.
Newt and Alby scrambled out of the Box after her, then forced their way through to the girl’s lifeless body, the crowd re-forming behind to cut them off from Thomas’s view. Only a few seconds later, the group parted again, and Newt was pointing straight at Thomas.
“Greenie, get over here,” he said, not bothering to be polite about it.
Thomas’s heart jumped into his throat; his hands started to sweat. What did they want him for? Things just kept getting worse and worse. He forced himself to walk forward, trying to seem innocent without acting like someone who was guilty who was trying to act innocent.
Oh, calm it
, he told himself.
You haven’t done anything wrong
. But he had a strange feeling that maybe he had without realizing it.
The boys lining the path to Newt and the girl glared at him as he walked past, as if he were responsible for the entire mess of the Maze and the Glade and
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