The air was silent; a cool breeze sifted through the trees of the Deadhead, and whistled through the cracks of wood in the few huts scattered around Homestead. The beginning of a new day marked also the start of a new month. As usual, the boys were gathered in a circle around a covered hole whose murky depths contained the next victim of their unsettling plight. Anticipation hovered in the air between the men, masking their anger and confusion towards whatever menace was behind their current condition.

"Why is it taking so long?" someone's voice rang out, peircing through the silence. All eyes turned to the plump figure of Ric.

"Slim it, Greenie," Nick, the group's self-appointed leader said, his eyes narrowing. "It'll come when it comes. No use waiting around for it if you don't want to, so just leave."

"You won't be calling me that for much longer," Ric muttered under his breath. The tall boy next to him elbowed him in the ribs, treading on someone's foot in the process.

"Oy! Watch where you're stepping, Newt!" Zart shoved in front of Newt and glared at him.

The air seemed to grow colder. On one side of the circle, Dalton and Ben played thumb war while P.F., Will, and Dave cheered their favorite on, taking private bets as to who would come out on top.

"Pin it down already, ya shank!"

"You almost had him!"

"IDIOT! HIS THUMB IS RIGHT THERE!"

On the other side, Minho and Alby were deep in conversation. How they were able to tune out the ruckus around them was anybody's guess. Despite the circumstances of not knowing where they were, who they were, and who did this to them, life persisted.

"YA BLOODY SLINTHEAD!" angry voices rose from the thumb wrestling match as Dalton took his victory with pride.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SLINTHEAD, SLINTHEAD?" Ben tackled P.F. and they fell to the ground which caused more hollars and hoots from the boys on the sidelines, this time capturing Minho and Alby's attention.

"It's always a bloomin' miracle when we make it to the next day without being killed by each other," Nick remarked. Newt shook his head.

"Better any of them than a Griever."

Nick headed towards the tussle, yelling, "Break it up!" in an attempt to use his position as leader to break up the fight.

"HEY! YOU SHANKS WANNA SPEND A NIGHT IN THE SLAMMER?" Alby spoke up, running in after Nick, much to Nick's annoyance. Ben and P.F. took a few more swings at each other, but gradually became bored with the fight and rolled away from each other with nothing more than a few bruises to show for it. P.F. wiped his mouth with a hand and spat on the ground.

"That's the last time I bet on you during a wrestling match," he said.

"Aw, shut up, P.F. That's a stupid thing to be betting on in the first place," another boy, Hank spoke up. "At least make it a real wrestling match next time. This whole "thumb" business is some sort of stupid. What klunkhead thought of it, anyway?"

"Slim it, Hank," Nick said sharply. He pointed at P.F. and Ben with opossing fingers.

"Now you two behave yourselves or I will personally drag your pathetic butts to the slammer. We don't have time to be beatin' up on each other with them things out there."

With their attention diverted, no one seemed to hear the familiar clangs and whirrings underneath the wood panels, signaling the arrival of what they had all been waiting for. It was Ric who first heard the noises, excited to finally be rid of the dreaded "Greenbean" nickname.

"The Box is coming up!" He shouted over the other boys' yelling.

"--I don't see any evidence of that."

"Well what the shuck do you call this then?"

"Are you kidding me right now?"

"This is jacked! All of it!"

The Box came to a stop with a loud CLICK, and finally called attention to itself. Ric did the honors of opening the doors, and the boys peered in, eager to see the newest addition to the family.

They were met by an angry-looking boy with sandy blonde hair, arched eyebrows, and an extraordinary amount of freckles across his nose.

"What the heck is going on?" he demanded, seemingly more outraged than confused. "Where am I?"

"Welcome to the Glade, Greenbean," Newt lowered himself down into the box and held out a hand for the other boy, but was met with an accusing glare.

"You'd better tell me what's goin' on before I--"

"Before you what? It's one against thirteen, odds not in your favor," Newt replied. "I know it can be weird at first. We've all been through it."

The boy looked up at the others, and Nick jumped down to join them.

"You got a name, Newbie?" he asked. The newcomer didn't reply at first, but Nick didn't try to pry the information out of him. He knew full well what it was like to be lost.

"Gally," the boy finally said.

"Well then, Gally," Nick smiled, "welcome aboard." He grabbed one end of a crate. Newt grabbed the other and they hoisted the goods up to the others, repeating this until the Box had been completely emptied. Gally watched on suspiciously.

"You gonna stand there all day?" Nick asked. The Gladers went silent as they awaited Gally's reaction. After a moment Gally reached for another crate.

*thump thump*

"Hold on, what was that?" Will asked.

"What are those shanks sending us this time?"

*thump thump*

"Is this some sort of stupid prank?"

*thump thump*

"That's been going on for a while. I don't know what it is," Gally said. The others were appalled.

"You mean to tell me this thumping business was going on the whole time and you never thought to look for the cause of the problem?" Nick asked. "What kind of slinthead are you!"

"What the hell're you going on about? You aren't the boss of me; get off my case!" Gally replied smoothly.

"I AM the boss, you slinthead!"

"Are you always such an idiot, or are you showing off?"

"YOU WANT A NIGHT IN THE SLAMMER, GREENIE?"

"What a cheap threat! I'll bet your mother said the same thing!"

"WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP AND HELP ME, ALREADY!" Newt shouted from the corner. Nick and Gally both glared at him, their faces red. With an eyeroll, Minho and Alby jumped down into the box and helped Newt lift the crate out.

*thump thump*

The three boys looked at each other.

"What are you waiting for?" Newt asked.

Minho shrugged: "I thought you wanted to be the one to open it."

"No, you can if you want."

"Oh for pete's sake," Alby shoved past Minho and Newt and grabbed the lid of the container. The wood cracked around the three nails holding it in place, and to his surprise, the task wasn't as hard as he expected. It was as if an imaginary force was pressing up on the lid from the other side, aiding him in opening it. Ben came up on the other side of the crate with a hammer and elbowed Alby aside so he could pry the nails up with the tool. The Gladers watched on with wary curiosity.

The lid popped off and Ben stared into the crate with wide eyes, completely still.

"What's wrong? What it is it?" Newt walked forward, but just before he reached Ben, the crate toppled to its side and the contents spilled onto the grass. The Glade fell silent.

"What the..." Dalton whispered, breaking the silence.

"Was this a mistake?" Hank asked from beside him. "They told us they'd only be sending one a month!"

Lying on the ground next to the discarded crate, gasping for much-needed oxygen was...

"A girl?" Alby was incredulous. Needless to say, the rest of the Gladers were equally bewildered. Up until then, the only people being sent up into the Maze were boys.

"Please...you have to listen to me..." the girl's voice was breathless and frantic, the higher-pitch already throwing off many of the boys. P.F. whispered something to Will who stifled a laugh, and Ric had a look of fascination plastered on his face.

"Please," the girl continued, holding out her hand. "I brought you a vial of the antidote. It will cure the Griever sickness."

"WHAT!" Nick jumped out of the Box and went to snatch the glass vial from the girl's hand. "How did you get this? Explain yourself!"

The girl nodded. "I have to be quick, I'm losing my memory. WICKED doesn't know that I slipped in, but they will soon."

"What the shuck you talking about, girl? Speak up!" Nick grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet.

"What's this about being wicked, now?" Minho asked, coming closer.

"Listen to me, the Maze..." 

Nick cut her off: "Yeah, we know it's a Maze, we ain't that dumb," he said, "but it changes every night and its full of those said Grievers you just mentioned a while back."

"There is a way out, and you have to find it. They don't intend to keep you here forever, and they won't wait forever, either. You have to get out so you can pass the test."

"Pass the test?" Newt said. All around there were excited voices at the girl's words.

"A way out!"

"See? I told ya they weren't gonna leave us here to rot!"

"How long do they plan on keeping us here, then?"

"How do we find the way out?"

"Who is they?"

The Gladers pushed their way closer to the girl until they stood in a circle around her. Nick held his grip on her and caught her with his other hand when she suddenly slumped forward.

"Hey," he said, shaking her. "Who are they? Tell me now! Tell me everything you know!"

"I...I can't--" the girl's eyes seemed to roll back briefly into her head.

"Can't? or won't?" Nick demanded angrily.

"No, I--I don't remember..."

"Don't give me that, ya shank! Stand up!" Nick grabbed the girl again when she threatened to fall to the ground. She brought a hand up to her head and closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I can't remember!" she said.

"TELL ME NOW!"

"Nick, stop, you're hurting her," Minho said. Nick snarled in frustration and loosened his grip.

"I'm sorry, the air--the air is taking my memory. It happens to everyone they send." The girl's knees wobbled.

"Is she going to be sick?" Ric asked P.F.

"What do you mean, 'the air is taking your memory?' Is that why we can't remember?" P.F. asked instead of answering Ric's question.

Suddenly, the girl let out a strangled cry and collapsed in a heap at Nick's feet. He glared down at her and immediately rolled her to her back.

"GET UP!" He shouted, but there was no response. Minho nodded at Alby, and the bigger boy grabbed Nick by the shoulders and pulled him away from the girl.

"What should we do with her?" Newt asked, looking to Alby for the answer, which caused Nick further agitation. Alby eyed the girl, who seemed to be sleeping rather peacefully.

"The girl? Put her in a hut, I guess."