The Huntress Descent

The Labyrinth: Chapter Fifteen

For the second time that day, we were all shocked.

"Well, come on," Newt said to Thomas as he grabbed his arm. "No way am I not going with ya."

Minho and I both watched as Newt and Thomas left the room, with Chuck trotting right behind them like a little puppy that needed attention all the time. The last thing Newt said as he left was to Minho to get started to work. Whatever that meant. I wanted to go back to bed and sleep a thousand sleeps.

"So..." Minho said breaking the awkward silence "Feeling better?"

"Still think I'm a spy?" I countered. Let's make it really awkward.

Minho nervously laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in the process. "Yeah, that sounds crazy now. Doesn't mean I still think there's something more to you."

"Erm ... thanks," I said. Was he complementing me or insulting me, again?

"We better get going otherwise Newt won't be impressed and I don't need that right now." Minho helped me from the chair and handed me the crutches.

I thought getting to this place was slow. I stood corrected. At one point, something must have snapped in Minho's head for he stomped the ground, grabbed the crutches and hoisted me up in the air. I flinched from the reaction, not expecting to be flung in the air and into his arms.

"Look," Minho huffed. "I would say sorry but I haven't got all day to waste."

His stride picked up the moment I was in his arms. We crossed the Glade in double time until we came to the building that all the Runners entered at the end of the day. He gently put my two feet back on the ground, shoved the crutches into my chest and heaved open the Map Room door. He cranked the wheel-handle of the door, spinning it until there was a muffled click from inside, then pulled. With a lurch and a squeal, the heavy door swung open.

"Come on then," Minho said, beckoning me with a hand. I heaved my body towards the open doorway, my good leg leading the way. I passed Minho without a word, my eyes too focused on what lay behind the mysterious door.

The dark room had a musk, wet smell, laced with a deep coppery scent so strong I could taste it on the tip of my tongue. A faded memory surfaced, the taste of copper pennies stinging my taste buds, the disgusting flavour being a poor choice to shove in a mouth.

Minho hit a switch from somewhere near the door, and several rows of fluorescent lights flickered until they came on in full strength, revealing the room in all of its detail.

In itself, the room was very simple. Not what I expected for the hideout of the Runners to look like.

"Welcome to the Map Room," Minho said, taking a position on my left. "The most happiest place to find yourself in the Glade."

Glancing back to the room, I saw that it was about twenty feet across with the concrete walls bare of any decoration. A wooden table sat in the exact centre of the room, eight chairs tucked neatly in around it. There were stacks and stacks of paper and pencils laid carefully about the table's surface, one for each chair. The only other items in the room were eight trunks, all evenly spaced out across the room, two to a wall, all closed.

It wasn't what I was expecting in the slightest – something more profound was higher in the list – yet, they still had somewhere to work.

I took a deep breath in. "And the smelliest."

"Hey," Minho said. "I kinda like it."

I shrugged in response.

Eyeing one of the chairs, I limped my way over, pulling it out from under the table as best as I could. Once it was so far out, I plopped myself on and lent the crutches on the side of the table. I made sure that I was careful enough not to knock any of the paper or pens from their respective places.