There was a stone grinding. The gates of the Glade were closing rapidly, ruining the hope of being able to be safe for the night.

You ran as fast as you could. Minho was running behind, urging the others on. He was shouting something, but with the wind whistling in your ears, you couldn't hear what it was.

Newt, like a snake, slipped through the closing gate and the last thing you saw before the gate closed was his frightened expression.

You and Minho stayed outside.