𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 ᐅ 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙩

𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

We leave for what? Six hours?
And this happens?

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

The vines and stone confinements of the Maze fade away with each heavy step we take as Minho and I run into the Glade, both out of breath. I double over, placing my hands on my knees and catching my breath as Minho dramatically slumps to the floor.

Minho and I spent the day trying to study the new pattern again, which proved to be somewhat successful. The pattern seems to be back to normal, but we won't know for sure for about another week. The entire way back, we've been creating theories for what on earth could have possibly caused the sudden change, yet nothing we hypothesised made any sense.

I look up after gaining back what air I could to see the Glade in total disarray. Most of the boys are stood milling underneath the Homestead, chatting excitedly with one another, their faces lighting up as they gossip. Most people have neglected their jobs, drifting around Homestead. Those who are by their work stations are sat watching Homestead with a fixed expression, their gaze unwavering. I raise my eyebrows as Alby charges out of Homestead with a murderous glare.

"What're you slintheads doing just standin' around for? Get your sorry shuck behinds outta here and slim it! Get back to work!" he thunders, pointing a shaking finger in their faces before storming back into Homestead, slamming the door shut behind him. What's gotten his undies in a twist?

Minho and I share a suspicious glance before jogging over to Homestead, still panting and trying to breathe as much air into our lungs as our bodies will allow. I spot Frankie and Jack, and hit Minho lightly on the arm before nodding in their direction. The two boys are talking, exuberance written in their wild gestures as we approach them.

"What is with everyone today?" I exclaim to them, and they immediately snap their gaze to mine before giving a little wave.

Minho studies the dispersing group of boys with a squint. "Somethings off."

Frankie ruffles his light brown hair with a confused expression, furrowing his thin eyebrows. I met Frankie around the second week in, and the slicer and I quickly became friends, considering he was around Winston so often. Jack's a track hoe, and on the days when I finish early, I usually help in the Gardens, so Jack and I are somewhat friends. Frankie smiles at me before looking back at Homestead, and I see the rest of the retreating boys cast a suspicious look over their shoulders at the rooked wooden building.

"What did we miss?"

"There's another chick," Frankie says matter-of-fact.

I raise my eyebrows. A chick? "Eh?"

"Come again?" Minho asks with an exasperated sigh.

Jack points up to Homestead and then the box, as though that gesture would immediately make us understand. His face breaks out into an excited grin and points up to the askew wooden building again. What is he getting at?

"That was about as clear as a smoke signal," I say wryly.

"Another girl," Jack chimes. "She came up in the box today. She's in Homestead right now — dumb shank arrived unconscious."