" WHITE BLOOD " T. MAZE RUNNER¹

twenty.

[CHAPTER TWENTY]

~

The hot sun shone down on to Eleanor's shoulders, causing a constant layer of sweat to form on her forehead and neck. There wasn't a hint of shade anywhere near the Blood House, and the only way to escape the blistering sun was to stay inside the poorly built building, and unfortunately for Eleanor, all of her work was to be done outside.

So she had no choice but to suffer through the heat as she made her rounds of feeding the animals. She envyed the goats, who were busy dust-bathing in order to cool themselves down; hell, she even envied the two pigs that were wallowing in the mud near their water trough. She would have done anything at that point to cool down.

Because of the amount of sweat that had formed on her body, Eleanor's hands had become quite slippery. As she was making her way towards the goat pen, a bucket full of old apple cores and unused fruit in her hand, she felt the handle slip through her fingers, and the next thing she knew, the contents of the bucket were spilled all over the ground. She groaned in frustration, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand before she bent over and began picking up the old fruit. What made it even worse was the series of catcalls that came from a group of nearby Builers, and Eleanor didn't have to look their way to know that they were staring at her backside.

Eleanor huffed and stood to her feet once more, feeling uncomfortable under the gazes of the Builders. She scowled as she noticed one of them- a boy who she recognized as Randall- was walking towards her with a strut in his step. His friends were watching from behind him, and Eleanor couldn't help but wonder if they knew what Randall was about to do to her.

"You know," the boy said as he stopped in front of her, leaning on the wooden fence of the goat pen. Eleanor wished that one of the goats would just so happen to accidentally ram into the fence and hit him instead. "The Slicers are a lucky group of boys."

"Oh, yeah?" Eleanor rolled her eyes at his words, turning around and walking towards the fence to the goat pen once more. "Why is that?"

"Because they get to see your beautiful face," Randall told her with a sly smirk, following closely behind her; she knew that he was currently staring at her backside, and she couldn't help but squirm slightly under his prying gaze. "Maybe you should start bending over more. It's a good view."

"Not happening," Eleanor grumbled, reaching for the gate so that she could escape the unnerving boy. Though Randall stepped in front of her before she could step through the gate, eyeing her up and down with his lip in between his teeth.

"You know, I've heard from a couple of Slicers that you're real good with your hands. You would have made a nice Builder, and maybe you could have helped me out, as well." Eleanor immediately knew what he was referring to, and she scowled as she took a step away from him, her heart beginning to hammer against her chest.

As she took a step backwards, she jumped when she felt a warm hand rest gently on the small of her back. She turned to see Newt standing closely beside her, glaring down at the shorter Glader with his jaw clenched. "If I hear you talk to her like that again, I'll throw you off the buggin' Cliff myself, good that?" His voice resembled a growl, his accent more prominent than usual as he threatened the Builder.

Though Randall was not intimidated by the taller boy, scoffing as he sized himself up and took a step closer to Eleanor as if testing him. Newt's hand moved from the small of her back to around her waist, and he pulled her closer to him.