The Divergent Runner

Griever Hole

And so we began our descent into the walls, running as fast as we could. My heart thumped hard inside my chest, my mind raced with thoughts both good and bad. The blurs of concrete and ivory zoomed past me, with every passing second. I followed all the footsteps who marched onward, almost in unison. We barely made it twenty feet away from the doors when it started to turn darker. All around us, heavy vines spread overhead, and caused a thick canopy to cast dark shadows among us.

Left, right, right, left, straight, and we kept running through the maze. I exhaled deeply and inhaled, for my heart seemed that it would just explode out of my chest at any minute. And with quick glances around, I could tell almost everyone else had trouble running too. But, there was something about the quick, intensity of the run that intrigued me. Although breathless, thighs aching, I craved it. It made me feel...free.

Tobias was on my left, and kept a quicker pace. My short legs could not keep up with his long strides, as I had to sprint to catch a glimpse of his fleeting heal. Left, Left, Straight, Right,Left, Left,Left, Right, Straight, we kept running, until I lost track of how far we were in.

"Just up ahead, and we take a quick stop!" Yelled Minho, as his fabulous hair turned the corner, and disappeared. My heavy breath seemed to only get worse. And then, my legs turned the corner and I joined Minho and the rest of them at a dead end.

I quickly crouched on my knees, as I tried to slow down my breaths. My thighs, and legs burned, they seemed like they would fall off at any moment. Tobias quickly sat down, next to me. His back pressed against the concrete. He lay, soaked through his shirt in sweat, so that every muscle filled the t shirt and his chest  could be seen through it. It was a strange thing for me to notice when I was practically dying from running. I watched his chest heavily expand, and decrease as he chugged almost half of his water supply. The dark tips of his tattoo creeped out of the collar of his shirt.

I followed suit, and pressed my canteen to my parched lips. The water exploded down my throat with a pleasant feeling already arising in my stomach. As a drop of sweat rolled down my nose, he looked at me. His dark blue eyes stared heavily into mine, concerned.

"How are you holding up?" He asked, as he stroked my thigh with his sweaty fingers. I still couldn't breath.

"You know... Still living I guess." I stopped for a breath. "I guess it could be ...worse." He just smiled at me, and turned away to go and talk to Minho.

They talked for only a brief second, for a piercing shriek cried out from the depths of the maze.

"Get up shuck faces! We have to go, NOW!" He yelled as he slung his pack onto his shoulders and began to sprint away from the dark dead end.

"Bloody hell, it's those Grievers again." Newt yelled, as he dragged Emery up and pushed her to start running. Everyone got out of there within seconds, but another shriek sounded, closer than the last. As I ran, a Beetle Blade jumped out from the dark foliage and skittered underneath my feet. My foot was too quick, for it came down, abruptly on the little piece of metal. A tiny spark shot out from underneath, as I heard the crack.

Apparently that "little spark" was not just little. It soon grew, until it was fully lit, and exploded into a growing fire. It spread faster than our feet were able to move, as the orange flew up the dry foliage. It only kindled the flames into something terrible. The fire exploded onto the floor, quickly kissing the backs of our shoes. But then, six feet away from us, a huge line across the whole opening burst into fire. It was a gigantic wall that leapt one foot off of the ground, leaving us trapped inside the flames.

I began to squirm. My body tried moving, but it seemed tied to something. Blackness surrounded me. Until, I opened my eyes. All around me, a dry field of wheat that could be seen from miles and miles without stopping. My tiny body remained pressed to a wooden post, bound by ropes of splintery material. The sky was a gross, uncomforting color that made me feel horrible. Huge, black ravens soared high above my head. They remained laughing at me. Within seconds, a tall figure dressed in dark blue approached me, Peter. He sneered a wicked grin at me as he pulled something out from his front pocket. A match.