The Gladers errupted into chaos.

"How'd a Griever get in here, man!"

"Where's that shank now?"

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Nick pushed his way forward and grabbed Will by the collar of his shirt. "Where is he, Will? Take us to him NOW!"

Will immediately turned around and began running, this time with the rest of the men--and Elizabeth--trailing behind. He led them to the edge of the forest, where Ric was sprawled across the ground with his face towards the sky, gasping for breath.

As soon as she saw him, Elizabeth grabbed the arm of the person closest to her and leaned into him for support as her world swayed.

"Elizabeth...?" Newt asked, his own shock making it hard for him to say anything else. Instead of words, he brought his hands to her shoulders to keep her from falling over. Elizabeth stared at the ground and tried to focus on the warmth that from his hands on her shoulders.

Newt peered over her to see Ric. Nick and Alby stood over him, whispering with one another about what to do with the poor boy. The entire front of him had been cruelly ripped open, exposing the soft tissue underneath. Blood poured from the wounds, staining the grass underneath Ric red. His head lolled to the side and blood spurted from his mouth as he reached his last remaining ounces of strength to stay concious. His eyes were already glazing over when Gally pushed his way over to the wounded Ric.

Newt closed his eyes and bent his head with Elizabeth's, his forehead touching hers. He'd always hated the sight of blood and gore; the sight of the innocent Ric made the vomit rise in his throat and he fought to control his own breathing. He couldn't tell who was shaking harder--him or Elizabeth.

Gally kneeled down by Ric and started muttering indeciferable words of supposed comfort to his roommate. The others didn't have it in them to be surprised by his unusually gentle actions. Some watched in silence as the scene unfurled in front of them, others started shouting in frusteration at each other, and a few of them found it in their best interest to look away like Elizabeth and Newt had.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, Ric sputtered, his body shuddering violently. He made one last desperate gasp, then fell suddenly still. The Gladers fell silent, except for Elizabeth, who let out a choked sob every few seconds. Alby turned away from the body, the grief of the situation hitting him like a thousand arrows. Nick kept staring down at Ric, his lips forming a thin line.

Gally was the first one to move. He let out an angry roar and hit the ground beside him, which helped everyone wake up from their shock. Hank offered to help move the body to the Deadheads. Will and Ben--the Baggers--went to get shovels. Hank walked over to Ric and put a hand on Gally's shoulder. Gally made no move to stop him, so he grabbed Ric's arms. P.F. and Dalton each grabbed a foot and they moved away, leaving Gally sitting alone by the puddle of blood.

Eventually Nick followed after Hank and the others, and was shortly joined by Dave, Doug, Minho, Zart, Chris, and finally Alby and Gally. Will and Ben didn't take long with the shovels, and soon it was just Elizabeth and Newt standing together at the edge of the forest. Elizabeth pulled away first, and clutched one arm at her chest. The other she used to wipe desperately at her face. Newt dropped shaky hands to his sides and didn't look at her. She hiccuped once, and then she was gone--making her own way to the gravestones.

Somehow Newt found himself at the cemetary with the others, and even took a turn digging. Alby forced himself to say a few words after they lowered Ric's body into the grave, and Dalton found a sizeable rock to use as a headstone. P.F. and Doug helped with the engraving, and the funeral passed in a blur.

---

Gally was furious. He didn't have a word for this seething, intense anger that was boiling beneath the surface. After Ric died, he'd been left without a hut-mate, which was worse that he thought it would be. Sure, he was grateful for the silence for once, but when he thought about the reason behind Ric's silence, he wished he hadn't been so harsh with the boy. He'd grown fond of him in the month and two weeks he'd been in the Glade. It wasn't as if he was attached in any way to Ric, it was just that...thinking that someone in this place had betrayed them by killing the most innocent one of them all...

Gally was glad to be a Builder. It kept his hands busy, and Hank didn't bother him with meaningless conversations. Contrary to popular belief, Gally wasn't used to being so angry all the time. Sure, he got bothered sometimes, and was plagued by boredom, but since living in the Glade he hadn't had a reason to get seriously angry. Annoyed, yes. Frusterated, yes. Even a bit mad. Elizabeth had called him "broody" once, but that was just his natural persona. He wasn't an emotional person, and he was fine with that. In fact, he liked it.

Though if he really thought about it, he had to admit that his dominant negative emotion was anger. The way he felt now, proved it. Even though he didn't know his past, he was smart enough to realize that he was the type of person who got angry instead of sad, angry instead of surprised, angry instead of scared, and so-on-and-so-forth. It was the way he dealt with things. So if he just kept building and keeping himself busy, the feelings he was experiencing due to Ric's death would eventually subside.

---

The week passed by too slowly for Alby. The normal chatter seemed to have died down from the week before. The only thing that took his mind off the Glade's problems was showing the Greenbean the ropes. He liked Chris--the guy was confident and sensitive to the Glade's needs. He jumped in with Dave as their second Bricknick and worked with little complaint. Some of the others had expressed concern over his apparent "creepy behavior" towards Elizabeth his first day, but if Alby was honest, he hadn't noticed anything off the first day.

Chris was quite charming. He was dilligent and worked hard. He didn't go prying into business that didn't concern him, and didn't talk about Ric's death or ask any unimportant questions. Ric's death hung over the Glade like a cloak, and Alby found himself looking forward to the next Box visit. It was only a couple weeks away, and if the Greenie was anything as helpful as Chris was, it would be a good thing.

Hopefully this whole thing with Ric and murder would be gone by then.

---

Newt couldn't sleep. No matter how hard he tried. The blankets were too hot, his cot was too uncomfortable, nightmares lay behind his eyelids and threatened to drown him in his thoughts. It had been a week since Ric's death, and he still felt a sort of restless shock. Everyone else was slowly getting back into their normal routines, save for a few souls, like Gally, who moped around and couldn't act like their normal selves.

Earlier in the week, not long after Ric's death, Alby had called an emergency Glade-meeting. They had discussed the circumstances regarding his death, where several of the men, including Dalton and Minho, brought up the subject of the Grievers.

"I don't see how a Griever could be wandering around the Glade without any of us noticing. And do you remember that nothing came out to attack us after he died?" Minho had pointed out.

"What else could it have been?" Doug had asked.

It was then that Gally stood up and said the words that still chilled Newt's spine: "This was murder. We all know it. I have never seen a Griever, but I didn't see anybody rushing to find the one that did this to Ric after we found him. Everybody just stood there and realized that a Griever could not have cut him open like that."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Alby's voice was raspy, but strong. "We were all in shock, that was all. I'm thankful the Griever didn't come back while we were burying Ric's body, but that doesn't mean one wasn't here."

"NO!" Gally shouted, his face turning red. "You're telling me that in the event of a Griever being loose in the Glade you would all just stand around and take time to bury somebody before scouring the Glade for the enemy? What the hell kind of klunk logic is that!"

"He...he has a point," P.F. said, "we haven't seen a Griever make an attack like that. Usually they just inject their victims with their poison and eat them. They don't cut them and then leave them."

"Do you realize that you're trying to make a murderer out of one of us?" Alby asked. P.F. fell silent and averted his gaze. Gally crossed his arms and grunted in disbelief.

"Then we'll keep an eye on everyone. If anybody does anything suspicious you come to me and we'll deal with it!" Nick said.

"I don't believe this!" he said, "somebody killed Ric and now what? We're just gonna let them get away with it?"

"We're not letting anybody get away with anything," Alby said, still calm. "But right now, we don't have any evidence that points to a specific person, so we can't deal out punishments right away."

"RIC WAS MURDERED, ALBY! MURDERED!"

"MURDERED...!"

"MURDERED...!"

Murdered?

Gally's angry voice echoed in Newt's head and he got out of bed, throwing the blankets to the side and grabbing a pair of clean clothes. He left his hut--making sure he didn't wake Alby--and headed to the showers.