Labyrinth Runner

Chapter 17 (Annabeth)

This chapter... has a swear word. Just saying, not that it's going to stop you reading it (right?).

Can I just quickly confess that I've dwelled in another fandom? I've become a fangirl of something else? Something like... a cartoon show? For example... Danny Phantom? Don't look at me funny! I'm "young at heart"-you guys would know! Because, technically, PJO is a... *clears throat awkwardly* It's awesome, and if you don't agree, I'll rip your face off *smiles brightly*

●○ DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN PERCY JACKSON OR THE MAZE RUNNER ●○

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●  ANNABETH #17 ●

I was crouched behind one of the jagged rocks that bordered the Maze, watching the group from a distance.

Through the sparse trees, I saw a figure charging ahead of the group, the boys following behind him like a pack of scared school kids.

The dirt shifted beneath my fingers  as I crawled forward like some kind of cat. I watched them through the stripe-like trees. They entered a metal box that looked like it was once one of those carts that trains pulled.

The air was cold on my cheeks as darkness descended. As i inched forward, I heard the cackle of leaves that would have put my nerves on edge had I not known that nobody could hear. Because all I could hear was the rising volume of voices in the metal box.

I continued to steal nearer to the building, crouching so low that my stomach was pressed against my slowly pumping thighs.

My breaths were quickened by the adrenaline that rushed through me. My arms were beside me, fingers outstretched for balance. I felt the ribbons of air stir around my hypersensitive skin.

I was in no time, with my steady advance, at the edge of the forest, at the edge of my cover. I assessed the area around the Map Room - that's what the sign said above the door - for hiding places closer to the building.

The sun was low, so shadows were long, but they weren't going to be much use because the darkness provided more shade than deep nooks for hiding.

But the darkness was thicker in the trees, so I was behind a tree, with my stomach pressed against the trunk, my hands spread against the bark while I peered at my surroundings through my perennial vision.

The voices rose with rude noises and words (at least I assumed they were, I was still unfamiliar to the slang here). They rang out, coming out tinny and muffled, with the boys trying to out-shout each other. I closed my eyes, picturing a room with a ping pong table in the centre with people leaning against its surface, threatening to throw things and causing the table to flip.

I, slightly frustrated, pictured nameless boys with ugly expressions at the one side of the ping pong table, with a scowling Newt at the other end, trying to overwhelm the others with his own voice.

The noise was cut down to a whimper, and the silence chased away all the violence, replacing it with a more dangerous tension.

A loud clang rattled from the Map Room, followed by scruffling feet. A deep voice, sounding more mature and controlled than I remembered it, called, drawing out the vowels more than necessary,  "AAAAANNAAABEEEEETH!"

I peeked out from behind the tree, seeing a Newt whose back was turned away from the confused and skeptical boys who clambered out to follow him.

I quickly patted down my hair and smoothed out my torn clothing and adjusted my make-shift bandage (I should get that injury looked at), trying to made my movements as minimal as possible. I relaxed my face, making myself look calm and presentable.