The deafening screech of the Griever sent ice down my spine as I sprinted through the twisting corridors of the Maze, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My legs burned, my heart pounded, but I didn’t dare stop. Not when the mechanical nightmare behind me was closing in.

I turned a corner too fast, my foot catching on an uneven stone. The ground rushed up to meet me, and I hit the Maze floor hard. Pain flared in my palms as I pushed up, but the heavy thud of metal legs made me freeze.

I barely had time to suck in a breath before something tackled me from the side, sending us both rolling into the shadows. A hand clamped over my mouth just as the Griever skittered past, its grotesque body gleaming in the dim light. My chest heaved against the weight pinning me down, and it took a second for my brain to catch up.

Newt.

His face was inches from mine, his blonde hair damp with sweat, his eyes burning with urgency. "Shuckin’ idiot," he whispered, his breath warm against my cheek. "What the hell were you thinking running off like that?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but he tightened his grip, shaking his head. "Not now. Just stay quiet."

We stayed there, pressed together in the darkness, as the Griever let out another shriek and scuttled farther down the corridor. My pulse pounded, my body still trembling from the near-death experience. I felt Newt’s breathing slow against me, his hand loosening, but he didn’t move away.

Finally, when the silence stretched long enough, he exhaled. "You scared the bloody life out of me," he muttered, his forehead nearly brushing mine.