The Maze Runner

Maybe I can hold it off, he said quickly to Teresa. Just hurry!

I’m almost done, she replied.

The Griever’s spikes appeared again; it surged ahead and another arm popped out of its skin and shot forward, this one with huge claws, snapping to grab the spear. Thomas swung, this time from above his head, throwing every bit of strength into the attack. The spear crashed into the base of the claws. With a loud clunk, and then a squishing sound, the entire arm ripped free of its socket, falling to the floor. Then, from some kind of mouth that Thomas couldn’t see, the Griever let out a long, piercing shriek and pulled back again; the spikes disappeared.

“These things are beatable!” Thomas shouted.

It won’t let me enter the last word! Teresa said in his mind.

Barely hearing her, not quite understanding, he yelled out a roar and charged ahead to take advantage of the Griever’s moment of weakness. Swinging his spear wildly, he jumped on top of the creature’s bulbous body, whacking two metal arms away from him with a loud crack. He lifted the spear above his head, braced his feet—felt them sink into the disgusting blubber—then thrust the spear down and into the monster. A slimy yellow goo exploded from the flesh, splashing over Thomas’s legs as he drove the spear as far as it would sink into the thing’s body. Then he released the hilt of the weapon and jumped away, running back to Chuck and Teresa.

Thomas watched in sick fascination as the Griever twitched uncontrollably, spewing the yellow oil in every direction. Spikes popped in and out of the skin; its remaining arms swung around in mass confusion, at times impaling its own body. Soon it began to slow, losing energy with every ounce of blood—or fuel—it lost.

A few seconds later, it stopped moving altogether. Thomas couldn’t believe it. He absolutely couldn’t believe it. He’d just defeated a Griever, one of the monsters that had terrorized the Gladers for more than two years.

He glanced behind him at Chuck, standing there with eyes wide.

“You killed it,” the boy said. He laughed, as if that one act had solved all their problems.

“Wasn’t so hard,” Thomas muttered, then turned to see Teresa frantically typing away at the keyboard. He knew immediately that something was wrong.

“What’s the problem?” he asked, almost shouting. He ran up to look over her shoulder and saw that she kept typing the word PUSH over and over, but nothing appeared on the screen.

She pointed at the dirty square of glass, empty but for its greenish glow of life. “I put in all the words and one by one they appeared on the screen; then something beeped and they’d disappear. But it won’t let me type in the last word. Nothing’s happening!”

Cold filled Thomas’s veins as Teresa’s words sank in. “Well … why?”

“I don’t know!” She tried again, then again. Nothing appeared.

“Thomas!” Chuck screamed from behind them. Thomas turned to see him pointing at the Griever Hole—another creature was making its way through. As he watched, it plopped down on top of its dead brother and another Griever started entering the Hole.

“What’s taking so long!” Chuck cried frantically. “You said they’d turn off when you punched in the code!”

Both Grievers had righted themselves and extended their spikes, had started moving toward them.

“It won’t let us enter the word PUSH,” Thomas said absently, not really speaking to Chuck but trying to think of a solution …

I don’t get it, Teresa said.

The Grievers were coming, only a few feet away. Feeling his will fade into blackness, Thomas braced his feet and held up his fists halfheartedly. It was supposed to work. The code was supposed to—

“Maybe you should just push that button,” Chuck said.

Thomas was so surprised by the random statement that he turned away from the Grievers, looked at the boy. Chuck was pointing at a spot near the floor, right underneath the screen and keyboard.

Before he could move, Teresa was already down there, crouching on her knees. And consumed by curiosity, by a fleeting hope, Thomas joined her, collapsing to the ground to get a better look. He heard the Griever moan and roar behind him, felt a sharp claw grab his shirt, felt a prick of pain. But he could only stare.

A small red button was set into the wall only a few inches above the floor. Three black words were printed there, so obvious he couldn’t believe he’d missed it earlier.

Kill the Maze

More pain snapped Thomas out of his stupor. The Griever had grabbed him with two instruments, had started dragging him backward. The other one had gone after Chuck and was just about to swipe at the kid with a long blade.

A button.

“Push!” Thomas screamed, louder than he’d thought possible for a human being to scream.

And Teresa did.

She pushed the button and everything went perfectly silent. Then, from somewhere down the dark tunnel, came the sound of a door sliding open.

CHAPTER 58

Almost at once the Grievers had shut down completely, their instruments sucked back through their blubbery skin, their lights turned off, their inside machines dead quiet. And that door …

Thomas fell to the floor after being released by his captor’s claws, and despite the pain of several lacerations across his back and shoulders, elation surged through him so strongly he didn’t know how to react. He gasped, then laughed, then choked on a sob before laughing again.

Chuck had scooted away from the Grievers, bumping into Teresa—she held him tightly, squeezing him in a fierce hug.

“You did it, Chuck,” Teresa said. “We were so worried about the stupid code words, we didn’t think to look around for something to push—the last word, the last piece of the puzzle.”