[ 7 ] We Got A Runner

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CHAPTER SEVEN
• we got a runner •

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THOMAS STARED DOWN at the bathroom floor in disgust. A metal shovel in his left hand while a large bucket was in his right. His eyes scanned over the filthy room: pee stains, poop splatters, and blood patches all seeming incredibly more prominent than usual. The door to the room rattled behind him making him turn to look at his new company. The little boy-Chuck-had walked in carrying a bucket and shovel just like himself. A smile lit his face as he took his spot next to Thomas and dropped his supplies onto the ground.

"Hey!" the curly haired boy greeted, "you ready to clean?"

Thomas' face scrunched in disgust but tried to hide it. The truth of the matter was he really wasn't ready to clean, especially since it was mostly his friends' crap he would be picking up. He loosened his grip on the bucket and dropped it to the floor, muttering a quick 'sorry' when the shovel fell out of his hand and onto the younger boy's foot.

Chuck waved the incident off as if it was nothing and squatted down to the floor. "I'll take that as a yes. Okay, so I bet you've heard I'm kind of a pro at this-"

Thomas nodded his head, not really paying attention to the boy as his mind seemed to be drifting elsewhere. Elsewhere as in three days ago. What happened three days ago was the reason he was standing in the bathroom about to clean up poop.

"-then you just dump it there. Got it?"

He blinked twice, his eyes settling on the younger boy who was looking up at him with a half cocked smile. "Sorry, I- can you repeat?" He wearingly asked, his hand going up to itch the back of his neck. Chuck's smile grew bigger before it morphed into a sly smirk. He ducked his head back down to the buckets on the ground and focused his attention there. Thomas-not quite sure what to do considering he never got an answer-copied those actions, resting down beside him.

"You were thinking about Evy, weren't you?" Chuck nagged with a knowing tone. The boy cast a glance over his shoulder to see the greenie's now red face.

The brunete suddenly became defensive, not liking that someone knew what-or who- his thoughts had been occupied with. He forcefully brushed his hands on his pants before picking up one of the shovels. "I wasn't, I don't know why-"

"It's okay," He interrupted, "A lot of the older boys do."

Thomas instantly picked up on what he was implying and felt the need to defend himself. "No not like that." He rushed out, and honestly his statement was true. He had been more concerned about her physical well being than anything to do with sexual feelings.

Chuck handed him one of the buckets. "I believe that. After all, nobody else ran into the maze to save her. Speaking of which, why'd you do it?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Thomas gave an answer different from the one he had given to the group of keepers. It was easier for him to tell somebody who didn't have control over him rather than a mob of conflicted teenage boys who looked like they wanted to feed him to the Grievers. "I don't know. Just had a feeling telling me I had to do it."

"Like an instinct?" Chuck queired.

Thomas absentmindedly trailed his eyes back to the direction where Evony should be located. He spotted her in the far distance chatting alongside Newt and another boy who he didn't know. "Yeah...I guess." He finally said.

Thomas didn't know if he was satisfied with the answer but he supposed so as the conversation didn't carry on from there. Chuck then continued to explain what-and how-they were going to do their job. The brunete gathered quickly from his explanation that this must've been what the little boy did on a daily business. He felt some pity for him-actually a lot of pity-since cleaning up other people's shit didn't exactly seem like the most entertaining job choice.

SOMEDAY ❖ Thomas (TMR) Where stories live. Discover now