The Rogue Variable

"We have to split up-it's our only chance. Just keep moving. Don't stop moving!"

That was all I heard before Minho grabbed my wrist and sprinted. But I wouldn't leave poor pale faced Thomas behind. I yanked out of his grasp, and he tried to reach forward to me but I shouted, "my choice," and he turned and ran.

"Thanks for not abandoning me," thomas muttered, listening for Alby's heart beat. "No problem," I breathed.

"Is he..." I started as Thomas rose, sweat beading on his forehead. "Alive," he said, and I let out a held in breath. "But what should we do with him?" I asked, and Thomas just shrugged. "Help me get him up,"

We wrapped his arms around our shoulders, and heaved. But with both of us, it wasn't enough. Alby was a thick shank. Struggling to get up after falling on my face, with Thomas on top, the grumbling Grievers came ever nearer. I recognized the shining lights in the distance. Trying a new attempt, we dragged Alby around, but we wasted our energy. "Where are we gonna put him anyway?" I gasped, struggling for breath. Thomas couldn't even answer, yet only drag him back to the crack.

I racked my brain as the hard stone dug into my back. I was using it to support myself, to over come the fatigue and lightheadedness. "What about the vines?" I asked, but paused, "never mind, you heard Minho..." I trailed off, but Thomas's eyes lit up. "Wait..."

He leapt up, grasping a thatch of ivy. It was thick, and held as he pulled. Now, he walked backwards, a ripping sound as it was torn from the wall. The vine had vanished in the darkness when he's reached ten feet. I vaguely watched him as I grazed my fingers over writing in the maze.

It was chucks name, when we did the rock throwing ceremony. "Joanie..." Thomas called. I looked up, and he was pulling on some vines. Raising his eyebrows to signal for me to come, I latched onto the vines, one of my hands over his. "Pull," he commanded, and I yanked. Surprisingly, the vine held.

Letting go, I flexed my cramped hands, and when I raised my gaze, Thomas was hovering about the vines, grasping them. "Oh," was all I could say, when I began to piece his plan into place. He silently walked to Alby, and it clicked on my brain.

"Thomas you're a shuck genius, I could kiss you," I praised, and surprisingly, he laughed. "Don't think Newt would like that,"

We dragged Alby towards the vines, and when we reached it, a crack rang through the air. The Grievers had momentarily been blocked from my mind. The Griever noises were significantly louder. The fog has lessened, and details of the maze came into focus, as if my eyes were a camera. Panic flooded through the look I gave Thomas, and I saw it mirrored, but we put it behind us.

We grabbed one of the vines and wrapped it around Alby's right arm. The plant would only reach so far, so we had to prop Alby up as much as we could to make it work. After several wraps, Thomas tied the vine off. Then I took another vine and put it around Alby's left arm, then both of his legs, tying each one tightly. I worried about the Glader's circulation getting cut off, but decided it was worth the risk.

"Let's go," Thomas muttered, helping me as we climbed up towards where Alby was. Using the vines, we pulled Alby up, but our efforts were futile. "Hold on, follow me," I whispered, going back down. Thomas gave me a questioning glance, before mirroring my actions.

We began to push alby up the steep, rugged walls. His weight pressured down on me, but free a lot of panting, he stood three feet higher than before. Grievers were getting closer, so we tied vines around ourselves to raise with Alby as we hoisted him.

We stopped, at a height of dizzying 30 feet. Hanging there, I let the vines to the work while my arms rested. I fell like I was melted, then frozen, then melted to and awkward state of goo.