The Memory Trap

Chapter Two~

The rain poured like a cold shower, stirring Gladers from their slumbers to its heavenly sound. It barely ever rained in the maze, every so often would it allow them to wash and clean, giving them a break.

Ivy sat swinging in a hammock, her running gear having disappeared somewhere with Minho. The rain was her time to think, to watch as all the Gladers ran out into the night bare chested. Screaming and running, tackling one another like she's witnessed every moment she'd lived here.

Alby approached, bare chested and sweaty he stood in her view of the others. A smile plastered across his face as he sat below her.

"You never go out there when it rains, afraid you'll melt?" Alby asked.

Ivy smiled and returned to watching them, he knew exactly why she didn't; she was the only girl. Running around with sixty wet and sweaty boys didn't seem more fun than watching, getting time to appreciate the silence she so rarely got.

"I don't fit in out there, to boyish."

Alby snickered and turned to watch as well. Ivy had seen this twice before, Minho and Newt running around as if they were the rain gods. Spears being used as swords, they picked their own armies, preparing for some kind of battle. When the rain grew heavier the roars and cheering began to topple over the sound of rain, every Glader racing towards one other on their chosen team.

Gladers rarely got a break, Ivy's was running, being chased by Grievers; her own sort of thrill. Minho, Newt, and Alby were the only ones who knew why she did it. Why she killed the Grievers, and she began to remember. She was a young Runner, unlike she is now, she was afraid of the Grievers. She kept her distance and only went as far as section three, letting her partner, Ben, map the rest.

Ben was one of the fastest runners, he'd outran Grievers and lived to talk about it, to describe every detail that was now seen on a daily basis for Ivy.

Their last run was supposed to be quick, an easy get in look for and exit and out; it had been done many times before. The runners would separate from their partners, cover more ground and meet up at the Northern doors. Ivy stumbled into block four that day, Ben chasing after her so they could leave, but was ran down by a Griever that had chased her half way.

Alby stood to his feet, stirring Ivy from her memories. It had stopped raining, Minho's team chanting and cheering from their victory against Newt and his army.

"Newt's team would've won with you out there, it's a shame they lost...now Minho's gonna rub it in his face every chance he gets," Alby whispered.

Ivy shrugged her shoulders, imagining what it would be like if the Glade had another girl when she arrived. It would be less boring, they would understand one another. Ivy would give anything to have a friend of her own gender, someone that goes through the same things she does, but in reality she's left with sixty boys.

"Next time I'm ordering you to go out there, that's a promise."

Alby playfully punched Ivy before turning to walk away, leaving her to make faces at Minho as he cleaned up thrown spears.

"Next time Newt will win, got it shank! I'll be there!" Ivy howled! Minho smiled and strutted off, the night swallowing him as he limped off into the woods. Only then did Ivy notice something strange, a type of smell resembling Griever slime. She glanced around, trying to pin-point its location, then, everything fell silent.

It got stronger, resembling the smell of manure, drowning out the smell of the previous rain. It lingered like car fumes, stuck in her face as if it was warning. The calm feeling she once felt had vanished, replaced with a blast of fear, confusion; where was it coming from?