Chapter 2
James was heaved out of the box by a sea of hands, slapping his shoulders and the back of his head affectionately. He was bewildered, surrounded by people he had never seen before, and yet deep down, he felt as though they were all he had ever known. They brushed dust off him and pinched him, and he spun to swat their hands away. His efforts were fruitless, drawing only laughter from his helping attackers.
After a few excruciating minutes, the people backed away, almost at the same exact moment. James spun a bit to look at all of them, his eyes focusing on their faces. He saw a light-haired girl step towards him, moving through the crowd. She had deep bags under her eyes and her hair was scraggly around her face. Her t-shirt was light gray, and her pants were dark brown, save for a poorly sewn patch of black cloth near her knee. James stood to face her, squaring his shoulders so she wouldn’t think he was a coward.
She leaned forward and grabbed his shoulders, spinning him away from her.
“Pay attention to your new leader, greenie.” she said, now behind him. James nervously looked up, right into the eyes of the girl who had helped him stand in the box.
“Welcome up. My name is Mary. As my friend Marlene here said, I am the leader here.”
“What is… here?” James asked, “Where am I?” He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, searching Mary’s face.
“We call this the Glade. Those walls?” Mary answered, gesturing to the looming stone walls that James had only just noticed. “Always stay inside of them, alright?”
James stared at the stone walls, at a loss for words. They were enormous, with ivy growing near the tops of the stone. There were four of them, boxing them in from the sky.
Suddenly James couldn’t breathe again, feeling trapped in that dark metal cage. The stone walls seemed to rise higher into the sky, enclosing him in this strange place. He thought he could hear the walls moving closer, sinking in towards him like they were going to squish him flat.
James couldn’t find words, swiveling around and looking for anything, anything at all that would catch his eye and give him comfort. He searched for something familiar in his daze, panicking more when he found nothing.
He ran.
He felt he had no other choice but to run, and as he ran he felt like he could breathe again. As though the air in the world only wanted to touch him when he desperately needed it. James sprinted out and away from the group, pushing his stride farther and longer.
He heard a clamor behind him but ignored it, scrunching up his eyes to avoid looking back at the terrifying walls of stone.
He kept running and running. Tears threatened to form in his eyes from a sudden gust of wind, but he fought them, blinking furiously. Of course, since he had stopped looking at where he was going, his foot slipped on a rock, hidden in the grass. His legs swept out from under him, and he hit the ground hard.
Unfortunately, his fall knocked the wind out of him, and James landed on that hidden rock with his butt. He lay on the ground, helpless and in pain.
This day just keeps getting worse, he thought miserably.
A thud sounded on the ground next to him.
“Woah greenie,” a boy said, having sat beside him casually. “A bit of a runner, are we?” James sat up, staring at him. The boy was about sixteen, with wavy black hair that went down to his shoulders. He was smiling in a pleasant but lopsided way, and his eyes were a stark blue. His arms were toned, and covered in dark drawings, almost like tattoos.
“I’m Sirius,” the boy grinned, leaning back. “Your new best friend.” He noticed James staring at his arms and winked. “Cool, right? They almost look real.” He rolled his eyes. “Me and Marlene are trying to get the perfect blend of charcoal and this weird plant that my friend grows - but they’re just drawings and they wash off.” James stared at him quietly.
Sirius laughed, “Woah, not all at once! Sorry, I ramble a lot. What’s your name, greenie?”
“James,” he answered, breaking his own silence. He stumbled into his next words, an anxious expression on his face. “And I’m not usually quiet, I swear. This is just–“ He paused, looking back at the huge stone walls.
“It’s a lot,” Sirius said softly. “We all came up like you, James. Don’t let any one of us try to convince you that we weren’t scared too.”
James nodded, meeting his eyes.
“Hey, Sirius?” He asked, suddenly, “would you happen to have any glasses? I can’t see for shit.”
“There he is!” Sirius laughed, lifting himself to his feet gracefully. He extended a tattooed arm, helping James stand. “Yeah, we’ll get you glasses.”
James smiled, feeling at ease for the first time he could remember. “Thanks, Sirius.”
“Sirius! You’ve got the greenie?” Someone shouted, running with a huge group of people toward them.
“Yeah, I've got him.”
Mary, the girl from before, stopped when she reached them, huffing in annoyance. “Damn it, greenie. I hate it when you shanks run off.”
“Sorry,” James apologized, looking down. “I kind of panicked,” he began to explain, but Mary shook her head.
“It’s fine. What’s your name, greenie?”
“James.”
“Can you remember anything? Where you came from, why you are here, anything at all.”
James frowned, shaking his head. “Nothing,” he said.
“Then you’re in the same boat as the rest of us.” Mary grinned, the kind of smile that looks mischievous at first, but when you look deeper, the smile is really just a front. She looked exhausted, confused, and hurt. Her eyes gave her away, like shallow pools of grief. She turned to the crowd of people forming around them. “Shows over,” she called. “The greenie’s fine, we got him.”
Mumbles of disappointment rose as people shuffled away.
Sirius patted James on the shoulder, “Alright, Mary. I can see that you’ve got the greenie handled, so I’m getting back to work.”
“Okay,” James said. “My name’s James, Sirius,” he added, and Sirius let out a bark of laughter.
“For sure, green bean.”
James turned back to Mary. “What does greenie mean?”
“It’s what we call the person who comes up in the box. We get one every month.”
“But there are so many of you,” James said, shocked. “How long have you been here?”
“Three years. I came up first, which is why I'm the leader. You’ll meet my secondhand later. He came up third.”
“Wait, how come he’s secondhand if he came up third in the box?”
“We, we lost the second person to come up. Her name was Pandora.”
“Oh,” James whispered, watching Mary’s mask of excitement drop to reveal a look of heavy grief and guilt.
Mary sighed, resetting herself. She looked over her left shoulder, calling out at the young blonde boy that was walking away.
“Peter!”
The boy named Peter turned around, jogging back to them with a smile on his face.
“Nice to meet ya, green bean!” He beamed at James, and then looked at Mary for orders.
“Please take the greenie on a quick tour, Peter.” Mary said, “I’ve got some things to do.”
Peter nodded. “Alright. Thanks, Mary,” he said as she walked away. He looked at James with a smile. “She’s so cool,” he whispered, as if it was a well-kept secret.
James smiled at him. He liked Peter already.
“Alright! Let’s get cracking!” Peter said, motioning for James to follow him. “What’s your name?”
“My name is James.”
“Grand. I’m Peter, but you already know that I suppose. I was the last greenie.” He paused for a moment, walking on a trail of impressed grass. “I have been here for a month, and I’ve already landed the worst job in the Glade.” Peter sighed, “I’m a Slopper.” He looked at James curiously, then added, “I clean the loos.”
“Oh,” James frowned. “Sorry.”
“I’m sure you won’t get a bad job though,” Peter continued, “I mean, with your sprinting off act, maybe you’ll get to be a Runner! If you’re lucky.” Peter looked longingly at the stone walls, a childish jealousy on his face.
“What’s a Runner?”
“Er, a Runner is a job. The Runners get to go out and explore the maze. Their job is the coolest. They look go look for a way out for all of us.”
“Maze? A way out? What–“
“The Glade, this clearing we’re in, is surrounded by a huge maze. If we find a way out of the Maze, we’ll all get to leave and go home. I think.”
“Why isn’t everyone a Runner? Wouldn’t that make more sense, if everyone can explore the maze? We’d get out way faster.”
Peter shook his head. “No way. We’ve got rules. Nobody but the Runners and Mary are allowed in the maze.”
James frowned, about to ask about the maze again when Peter’s shout cut him off.
“Remus!” Peter waved at a boy standing in a field of dirt and what looked like heads of lettuce growing.
The boy looked up, and the first thing James noticed was his scars.
They covered his body, faded and silvery, over his arms and his neck and his face. James wondered if they were under his clothes too, but he chastised himself for thinking so invasively about someone he hadn’t even met.
“That’s Remus,” Peter said to James quickly, as Remus started walking over to them. James noticed his limp, and that Remus was walking stiffly on his left leg. But he held himself in a way that led James to believe that it wasn’t a new injury, and Remus had been putting up with consistent pain in his leg for a long time.
Remus had light brown hair, curly and recently cut. It hadn’t been a clean cut, James could tell, glancing at the odd straggler curls that were abandoned.
“Is this the greenie?” Remus said, stopping in front of them. He had brown amber eyes, and the best eyelashes James had ever seen. Remus looked James up and down, inspecting him, with the same energy as a doctor surveying his patient.
“Heard some commotion, greenie. Did you try to run off?”
James laughed, nodding. Remus grinned, dimples forming in his cheeks as he did so.
“I’m James,” he said, sticking out a hand for Remus to shake.
“I’m Remus. Second in command to Mary, and I’m the Keeper of the Trackhoes. The gardeners.” Remus grinned. “I’m pretty sure that they came up with ‘Trackhoes’ just so they could say ‘hoes’ without Mary getting mad.” James laughed.
Peter nodded, “And Remus used to be a Runner, so he really knows what’s out there!” He grinned excitedly, and based on the look on Remus’ face, knowing what was ‘out there' was not a good thing.
“Bloody hell, Pete. Give me a second, will ya?” Remus said, exasperated.
“Sorry, Remus.” Peter said awkwardly.
“Listen, greenie. No matter what Peter says, never go in the maze. Do not,” he said seriously, “ever. Go in the maze. That’s rule number one. You would die sooner than we could kill you for breaking rule number one.”
James did not make an effort to hide the shock and fear on his face. He nodded.
“And the other rules,” Peter added after a moment, “are: do your work and carry your weight, and never harm another Glader.”
Remus nodded. “No matter how irritating Snape is, physically harming another Glader is strictly against the rules.”
“Alright. I don’t know who Snape is,” James responded, furrowing his brows. “But whatever way you all do things is alright with me. And hey,” he added, “when you say Gladers, do you mean everyone who is here? That lives in the Glade?”
Remus nodded.
“You’ll be assigned a job after a trial period where Mary takes you around and shows you all the jobs.” Peter said.
“Speaking of jobs,” Remus said, “now is the perfect time to get back to mine. Take the greenie on his bloody walking tour, Pete. No more distractions.” He turned around and headed back towards the lettuce field, walking slowly.
Peter looked at James and grinned. “My bad.”
“Don’t worry about it,” James shrugged. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”
They began to walk along the light trail, past the next few fields, full of beanstalks and corn and various other crops James didn’t recognize.
He took this opportunity to study his surroundings, looking at the green grass landscape and the forest of trees surrounding it. There were poorly made huts in the center of the so-called Glade, bound together with vines and rope. There was a courtyard-like area in the circle of huts made of stone blocks. In the middle of the courtyard, there was a fire pit, made of large stones and big logs of wood piled up in the center.
Beside the pit sat the girl James had seen earlier, with light blonde hair and dark brown pants. She was talking to a girl in a dark green sweatshirt, with black long hair and dark skin. Both girls were wearing bright smiles, looking happy and at ease as they spoke.
“Who are they?” James asked Peter, who had stopped to pick up a rock. James raised an eyebrow at him, and Peter shrugged and dropped the rock into his pocket.
“That is Marlene and Dorcas. They’re the Glade’s Medjacks. Also, I’d bet my life on them being secretly in love with each other.” Peter said, pointing to each girl. He looked up at James for a moment, “Sorry. Remus keeps getting mad at me and sayin’ that pointing is rude.”
“Nah, I don’t think so. You’re fine.” James paused, furrowing his brows. “What are Medjacks?”
“They’re our doctors, and they make sure we don’t get hurt or sick. The box comes up and brings them supplies and stuff like that.”
“Stuff comes up in the box? Besides just people like me?” James asked, thinking back to the dark terror he experienced in that metal cage.
“Yeah, we get supplies and clothes and other things. Er, I’m not supposed to tell you everything. Mary’s supposed to tell you all that on the Tour tomorrow, when you get an official introduction to all the jobs and the Keepers and carve your name on the wall.”
“Why can’t you just tell me everything now?”
Peter stared at him. “I heard that last time they told a greenie everything on his first day, he threw his shuck face off the cliff. Since then, it’s been a rule.”
James’ eyes widened. “The cliff? Did he kill himself?”
Peter nodded.
“What was his name? Did you meet him?” James wasn’t sure why he wanted to know, but he asked anyway.
“His name was Lucius. His death was more of a warning tale than a tragedy, though. Not like Pandora.”
“Pandora?” James asked immediately. There was that name again. Pandora. Peter looked away, wincing at his own words.
“I don’t– I shouldn’t tell you.” Peter said guiltily.
“Oh. Sorry.” James mumbled, letting Peter move in front of him as they resumed walking.
“Now, that over there is the Blood House.” Peter pointed to a far-away rusty barn, surrounded by fences filled with farm animals. The fences were poorly made, and so the chickens were almost all out of their pens, chilling on the grass nearby. “Stay away from there, I would. Not worth the smell and the Slicers are the total worst. Snape’s their Keeper. Remus calls him a ‘bloody maniac,’ which is funny because–” Peter glanced back at James. “Well, because he’s a maniac about blood.”
“I got it. What do Slicers do,” James asked, relieved that Peter had shifted the conversation. “They raise and slaughter all our animals,” Peter answered. “Like the chickens and pigs.”
“They must be delightful,” James said sarcastically. Peter laughed.
“They aren’t. Anyway, we’ll be headed to dinner now.”
“Woah, already?” James looked up at the sky in surprise, feeling that it was too bright for it to be the evening. The sky was bright blue, with not a single cloud or any sign of the sun.
“Yes. Time is kind of weird here, but we use watches. Frank has dinner every night at six, and if you miss it, that’s on you.”
James looked at his watch. It was only 5:30. “Isn’t that still early?” He asked.
Peter glanced back at him. “Yeah,” he said, “but Mary instructed me to get you dinner and to bed early tonight, so you can sleep and do the whole tour tomorrow.”
“Oh,” James said. “Okay.” Peter had him walk through a group of huts, weaving in between the thatched buildings. They reached a large, open hut, filled with crops and herbs, pots and pans strung up to the ceiling.
A wood fire was in the middle of the room, with a large pot of stew bubbling above it. A large boy stood in front of it, with his back facing the doorway James and Peter had come in through.
“Hey Frank,” Peter said, making the boy turn around.
Frank was tall, with dark brown eyes and freckles. His hair was combed and neat, not at all like how every other boy’s was. He wore a tan apron, with words written on it. Kiss the cook, it said. James realized that he could read.
“How are you enjoying your new life, greenie?” Frank asked kindly.
“There is so much I don’t understand,” James replied, shaking his head.
“It’ll get better.” Frank said, “Don’t worry.” He turned to the corner of the room, grabbing a plastic bowl from a stack on the shelves. He filled it up with stew, dropped a spoon into the bowl, and handed it to James. “Here you are, greenbean. Eat up.”
“Thank you,” James said, taking the bowl.
“Drop the greenie off at his bunk, Peter. Come back when the rest of the Gladers get dinner.” Frank said to Peter, wiping his hands on his apron.
Peter nodded vigorously, smiling. “Alright, thanks Frank!” He tugged James’ shirt and walked out of the kitchen.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, and then Peter spoke again. “Frank must be in a great mood today, then. He’s usually pissed if I interrupt him while he’s cooking.”
James nodded silently, eating his stew. It was surprisingly good, with soft carrots and potatoes. Peter looked at him thoughtfully, but said nothing more.
“Okay, James. This is your new home. For the month, anyway,” Peter said, gesturing to a small hut beside a large boulder. He moved the curtain door to the side, letting James in. “I’ll be heading off, but there’s your hammock, and if you need anything, that’s my den, across the way there. I used to be in this den - it’s the greenie den. After your first month, you’ll move into the group huts.”
James ducked into the hut, careful not to spill his stew. He walked inside and sat in his hammock, and it suddenly occurred to him how tired he was, his bones sinking deeper into the soft cloth.
“Thanks, Peter.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Peter said, shaking his head. “It’s my job.” He smiled, “Now finish eating and get to bed, alright?”
“Okay,” James yawned, leaning back. Peter was clearly trying to hide his replicating yawn, waving James goodbye and backing out.
James lay all the way back, putting his stew on the ground and looking up at the ceiling.
“Hey Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Who put us here? Why are we here?”
Peter was silent.
“Good night, James.”