(this song doesn't totally fit the vibe of this scene, but I adore it and wanted to stick it in somewhere. Listen. Enjoy.)
For the first time, I hate the Maze as I run. I hate that it hasn't changed beyond a couple of walls shifting to move the Cliff. I hate that we're just as stuck as we always have been. I hate that my understanding of Maps isn't enough. I hate being trapped.
Thomas and Minho don't say anything during our third break, when I scream profanities at the Creators until my voice breaks and my throat is raw.
I get the feeling that Minho understands how it feels to be this angry. So hurt, and so angry.
The Grievers pass us in the night, and we loop strategically around them to stay safe. But they don't explore the Maze, just head straight towards the Glade.
A couple of walls shift, but they're just moving the Cliff.
Everything else is painfully locked in place. We run every inch of our section, and then some. The Grievers pass us again, but I don't hear anything from the boy they must be taking with them. Hopefully he's dead, nice and painlessly.
If I was in the Homestead... I'd use Alby's bow and shoot the boy the Grievers grab. Better to put them out of their misery right away. That would require me being able to shoot Alby's bow, though, and I doubt I could be accurate with it.
My shoulder aches where the Griever slashed me, and I suspect it's infected. I don't want to know, though, so I just ignore it as we head back towards the Glade in the midmorning.
I can tell that even Thomas is frustrated with the lack of progress.
Staying overnight didn't give us any useful information. Well, almost. We experimented with the Cliff and learned that there is a section in the middle of the open space that is an illusion. What good does that do, though? A disappearing cliff?
Except... something starts to click in my mind. Not enough for me to know what it is, but I have the sense that I'm close to figuring something out.
Maybe it's just wishful thinking.
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Good Grief (TMR fic)
FanfictionThey had never had someone like Ash. They had never had a pyromaniac. They had never had someone with a mind that understood the Maze. They had never had someone who could get them out. As We Watch the World Burn book one, The Maze Runner [book]...
