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MINHO HAD BEEN RIGHT ABOUT ONE THING. Samson actually was a good sprinter. He was able to keep up with the Runner through all the twists and turns of Section Five, which surprised both him and Minho. They quickly developed a routine of non-stop running for twenty minutes, and then a quick break to eat or simply catch their breath. Minho hadn't brought anything to map out what they saw, and Samson was going to ask him why he hadn't, but after their third break, he'd figured it out on his own. Minho had told him back in the Map Room that there was nothing else to solve or map out. Samson's plan was their last hope. All they were searching for now, was a Griever.
On their third hour, Samson began to grow tired of running. He figured they didn't need to run, they just needed to wait for a Griever. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, resting his hand against the wall to catch his breath. Minho stopped and turned around to face him, rolling his eyes.
"Come on!" he said breathlessly.
Samson shook his head. "You said you've never even seen a Griever before."
Minho exhaled sharply, wiping the sweat from his shiny forehead. Samson could only imagine what he looked like. He felt disgusting and desperately wanted a shower, or a bed to sleep in. Four hours of sleep hadn't been nearly enough.
"Sure, I've never seen one before, but I think I know where we can find one," Minho said. He took off around the corner and Samson groaned, hoisting his pack back up on his shoulders and going after him.
They didn't make any more stops for another half hour. Minho had stopped for only a moment at one point, only to tell Samson that he needed to catch up. Minho turned down a corner that was marked with the number six on the wall above them. They were switching sections. Samson decided not to question Minho's actions.
When they finally stopped again, they stood in front of what seemed to be a dead end. Minho pushed Samson back to prevent him from going any further towards it. Samson examined the dead-end from where he stood, peering down into the deep and dark hole, when he realized it wasn't a dead-end at all. It was a cliff.
"What?" was all Samson could muster. He was out of breath and very confused.
"That's the Cliff," Minho huffed. Samson turned to him and rolled his eyes.
There wasn't much to see. If anything, it reminded him of the Box Hole, just dark and bottomless. This only made Samson think of Nick. He quickly turned away from the Cliff and shook the thought away, reminding himself that he was doing this for Nick, and for every other Glader that had been lost at the hands of the Creators.
Minho spun around and sat down behind him against the wall. He opened up his water canister and took out the rest of his sandwich. Samson joined him, taking his strawberries out of his pack and offering some to Minho.
