The New Horizon ~ A Maze Runner Story

- 5 -

Three stiflingly hot days passed since Thomas laid out his scheme to Brenda. The onset of summer had already hit its peak, and impossibly the rays of unrestrained sun penetrated through even the thickest parts of foliage in the forest. But Thomas refused to allow the weather to soil his game plan.
The heat was only one negative factor--WICKED was an entirely different determinant. If they're really out there, waiting for us . . . Thomas had pondered Brenda's notion of WICKED's scheming in his nightmares, let alone his agonizing thoughts. It terrified him beyond any conceivable belief.

Anxiety was already foraging its way into Thomas's skin by the time he woke up that morning, the morning he would tell his friends about his escape plan. And he sat quietly, swallowing down his breakfast as he and his friends ate at an old tree stump that acted as a makeshift table. His food felt like sand granules slowly inching down his arid gullet. He listened to Minho and Frypan joke around, all the while mentally rehearsing what he would say.
"Hey, shank, hurry up and eat. I wanna get a head start today." Minho said, jabbing a thumb into the distant forest.
Thomas shook his head. The anxiety swelled. "Change of plans."

Minho pulled back in question. "What do you mean, change of plans?"
Thomas looked around him, surveyed the area. No one was close enough to overhear anything. And everyone he and Brenda planned to break the news to were conveniently sitting around the table. He wondered if she gathered them together purposely. It was now or never. "I have to tell you all something important."
Minho just rolled his eyes. Frypan was the first to reply. "Sure, what?"

Thomas exhaled--now all he had to do was talk. Somehow that seemed to be the hardest part. He eyed the small group individually; Aris, Frypan, Minho, Brenda. "I've been thinking a lot lately, and something seems off about this place. About Paradise. This might sound ridiculous, but just hear me out." Thomas paused, expecting some sort of cynical debate from Minho, but he and everyone else remained silent. So, Thomas continued. Spilling every truth about his doubtful conceptions of Paradise, the peculiar drive to explore beyond Paradise, the dreams that encouraged him to fuse together the plan. Everything. And at the end of it all, he sat there, scrupulously reading his friends' faces.

Frypan cleared his throat, eyes darting back and forth between Thomas and the ground. "I, uh--I do like the idea. But I couldn't leave."
"Oh, come on, why not? You chicken?" Minho retorted, chuckling. Frypan shook his head.
"I have to stay and cook. No one else here can cook."
Thomas agreed his statement was valid, whether he was 'chicken' or not. "Aris, what about you?"
Aris shrugged. An obvious frown of contemplation smeared across his mouth. "Well, I have to admit, it's a cool idea--"

"Cool?" Minho interjected, "That's all you can think of?"
Aris shot him a glare. "No. I was going to say that I'm not sure about it."
Minho nodded to himself, unsurprised. "Of course you aren't. But I am. Thomas is right. There's no way I'm gonna stay here my whole shucking life if there's another place out there. I say we do it. If we find nothing, then at least we tried."
Thomas felt a lump form in his throat. Minho was exactly the manpower they needed in order to complete the trek. "Awesome. Sounds awesome."

"You already know I'm in," Brenda said, mischievously grinning. "But we need to plan a date to leave that'll give us enough time to make our gear and gather food."
"We can do that today." Minho said, and it was the most nonchalant words he'd ever spoken.
Thomas was stunned. Brenda snorted, "Tomorrow? You're crazier than Thomas."
Thomas actually agreed. "But we still have to prep things. We can't take off without any weapons or food."
Minho shrugged. "Of course not, you dumb shank. But who said we couldn't do all that today? It's morning, we have all the time in the world to get that finished before sunset."

A dubious expression had washed over everyone, Thomas included. He pondered his friend's words, weighed them internally. Could they really prepare everything in one day? It seemed doubtful. But at the look of ambition burning like an inferno inside Minho's eyes, he knew he had to trust his friend. "Okay . . . The sooner, the better."
Brenda raised an eyebrow, "You're agreeing with this?"
"Why not? We can at least try to get everything done today. How hard can it be?"
She rolled her eyes but nodded anyway. "Alrighty. We'll try."

"In that case," Aris cleared his throat, sitting up straighter, despite still looking down at his hands, "I'll go too. You guys will need more hands to shave wood anyway."
Minho narrowed his eyes in question. "Shave wood?"
"Yeah you know, making spears."
"You're one confusing shuck," Minho shook his head, then gestured to Frypan. "Make us all the food you have in that cellar of yours, you got it? We have no idea how long this trip might take."
Frypan gave a double thumbs-up. "Sure thing."
Minho stood up abruptly, smacking the table like some gavel in a courthouse. "Well, my friends, let's make these shucking weapons."