Chapter Twenty One

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"Hey, where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Minho had woken Florence up early the next morning, whispering that he needed to show her something, and telling her that Thomas needed to come too. That's how they had gotten into this situation:

Walking through the Deadheads with no light between them; only the sun rising over the walls. Despite Thomas having asked the question, Florence also had no idea where Minho was leading them both.

"Yeah Minho, where are we going?"

She was far too tired for this, and it was far too early. He rolled his eyes, squeezing her hand which was interlocked with his, and continued to take them both deeper into the woods, on a path he had clearly taken a hundred times before.

"I said, you'll see."

She let out a frustrated groan, one that let Minho know clearly that she wanted to go back to bed. He tugged her arm forwards, making her trip and Thomas snicker, and she stopped whining to walk in silent protest.

Finally, they reached a wooden shack near where the corner of the walls met, sheltered by trees so it wasn't too visible to anyone passing by. Florence was a little surprised that Minho hadn't shown this building to her before, but focused more on her curiosity as she entered the room after him.

When Minho moved out of the way, the centre of the room showed a perfectly precise wooden model of the Maze. Every single corridor, turning, passage imaginably. They had run it all.

Florence knew immediately that Minho, Alby and Newt were the only ones that knew about this room.

Minho leant his hands against the table, his eyes on the model as Florence and Thomas took it all in. Florence moved by Minho's side, her arm brushing against his as she analysed the structure they had created. 

"It's the Maze." Thomas mumbled.

Yeah, no shit. 

"All of it." 

Thomas' eyes narrowed in concern as he tilted his head up to question the Runner. "What do you mean 'all of it'? I thought you were still mapping it."

Minho just shrugged. His eyes shifted to the girl, and Florence could detect guilt at the fact he had hid this from her. However, she didn't blame him. 

"There's nothing left to map. I've run every inch of it myself. Every cycle. Every pattern. If there was a way out, we would have found it by now." 

"Why haven't you told anyone this?" 

"It was Alby's call."

Florence guessed as much. People needed the hope. The Glade would descend into chaos if everyone knew they had little to no possibility of escaping. 

"But maybe now we have a real chance."

Minho's eyes glimmered with excitement now, and a smile nudged at Florence's lips. Thomas was changing things for them. 

"Take a look at this." Minho lifted his hand and begun pointing out the outer part of the wooden models, with numbers one to eight painted onto the miniscule walls in front of them. 

"About a year ago, we started exploring these outer sections. We found these numbers printed on the walls. Sections one through eight. See, the way it works, is every night, when the maze changes it opens up a new section. So today, Section six was open. Tomorrow, it will be four, then eight, then three. The pattern always stays the same." 

"What's so special about seven?" Thomas asked, his eyes moving to section seven on the model, and Florence's to the metal cannister on the table beside it. 

𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦, minho (tmr)Where stories live. Discover now