Different | The Maze Runner / Newt ¹ ✓

{3.1}

Disclaimer:

Hello, it is I, Kristyn, who does not own The Maze Runner. I'll have an order of Thomas Sangster and a side of Dylan O'Brien, and could you please sprinkle some Ki Hong Lee in there, too?

-✼-

Believe it or not, I was getting very bored. I sat through almost an hour of Minho drawing Maps in the Map Room and showing us more Maps and then talking about how the walls moved, hence the Maps and Maps, Maps, Maps. I was sure that word was ruined for me forever. I started keeping a mental tally every time he said the word. So far, it was at thirty-seven.

In the Map Room, I sat there, eyes unfocused and barely catching snippets of what Minho was explaining. His voice faded in and out of focus at random. The walls changed every night. They drew pictures of what they saw every day. Each Runner was assigned to one of eight Sections.

I just hoped I was a good artist.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Minho said, "Let's go runnin'."

"Oh my God," I groaned, tossing my head back and releasing a huge sigh, relieved that I would no longer be cramped up in that room. "Finally!"

"Shut the shuck up and follow me," Minho ordered with a roll of his eyes. We exited the Map Room, Minho locked the door with his gigantic key ring, and we set off in the direction of the West Door. It was already open, the opening leading to a view of twisting stone walls and the endless turns beyond. That meant that the other Runners were gone, and we were terribly late.

Thomas and I followed Minho through Section Eight and down several corridors, keeping a quick yet easy pace. I was amazed at how Minho knew exactly where to go and barely seemed to think about it. I breathed steadily, swinging my arms with open hands to diffuse any cramps that might come. Air puffed out of my cheeks as my legs moved quickly, and it wasn't until we made it to a rectangular cut in a wall half an hour later that I realized I was lagging.

"Hey," I gasped, watching as Thomas sprinted to keep up with Minho, "can you slow down a bit?"

My small legs had to move twice as fast as the boys', meaning it was taking twice the effort and working up twice the sweat. I also noticed with dismay that I definitely did not have as much endurance as I previously thought, and my muscles were starting to burn the tiniest bit.

"This leads from Section Eight — the middle left square — to Section One — the top left square," Minho explained effortlessly. "Like I said, the passage is always in the same spot, but the route here might be a little different."

I had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe I should've paid attention in the Map Room.

As we reached the end of the passage, Minho thankfully slowed to barely more than a walk and whipped out a notepad and pencil from a side pocket in his backpack. He quickly jotted a note, then put them back, not once fully stopping.

"I rely...mostly on memory," Minho informed, his voice finally showing a hint of fatigue. "But about every fifth turn, I write something down to help me later. Mostly just related to stuff from yesterday— what's different today. Then I can use yesterday's Map to make today's. Easy-peasy."

"Yeah," I mumbled under uneven breaths. "Easy-peasy."

Thomas heard me and nudged my arm with his elbow. He had a playful smile on his face, slick with sweat. "Lemon-squeezy."

I glared at him. "Shut up" — I paused for air — "you're annoying."

We continued for a short while more until an intersection appeared. Of the three possible choices, Minho chose the one to the right without hesitation. As he did, he pulled out his knife and scraped off a chunk of ivy from the wall. He tossed it to the ground and kept running.