Morning Glory || Maze Runner Fanfiction

Scene Twenty One: Chase

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Her lungs screamed. Blood pounded in her ears, deafening. Her heart was a frantic machine, pumping profusely to keep up with her legs. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, making the sun-baked ground feel harder underneath her pounding feet. Her muscles ached from exertion and her throat burned with every inhale, but still she willed herself to run faster.

With a final burst of energy, Henna surged forward, snatching wildly. Her fingers connected with fabric, but her cry of triumph was short-lived.

"HA!" The boy yelled, wriggling out of the khaki green parka.

"Minnhooo, that isn't fair!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"You're just jealous because you'll never be as fast as me!"

Minho's smiling face leered at her, just out of reach. She lunged at him anyway and he ducked under the parka's flying zipper.

"Catch me if you can!" He sang over his shoulder.

Henna growled and followed, tripping over tired feet as she rounded the corner of another crumbling building.

Immediately, she halted. She had been surrounded by dilapidated structures and faded city streets since before she could remember. She often used the network of alleyways as a shortcut, accepting their shadows and muck in return for getting places faster. So why did this one feel so...wrong?

"Minho?" Her voice quavered, sounding ghost-like in the narrow space. Far ahead of her, she heard a laugh. It echoed eerily off the towering walls, fading into the distance and taking her heart with it.

Henna ran. All evidence of fatigue fled her muscles, which were fresh with new adrenaline. But this wasn't the burst of competitive fire she had felt coursing through her veins before. This was fear, injecting itself electric and undiluted into her arteries. It filled her head with images of crazed eyes and twitching fingers. Gurgles and shrieks sounded from behind every trash can. The faster she ran, the more the images filled her head. Stained teeth snapped at her heels. Tattered fingernails ripped at her clothes.

Suddenly, her foot caught something her eyes had failed to register in the shadows. She yelped, landing hard on the cracked pavement, before scrambling toward a small alcove. Her limbs shook with the effort of trying not to cry. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and willed the nightmares to pass her by. But the shadows clung to her, wrenching her arms free from where she had tucked them tightly against herself. Twitching and gurgling and snapping and ripping-

"Henna!"

Her eyes snapped open.

Minho was crouched in front of her. His brows were knit together with worry, and it struck her that she had never seen him look so anxious before. The realization shocked her, and she sat up. A few tears escaped her eyes, and she hastily scrubbed them away. Minho released her arms, but didn't back away from her.

"I think..." He paused, looking back over his shoulder. "I think we're lost."

Even though Henna was young, she knew the weight those words carried. A fresh wave of tears threatened to spill over her pale lashes.

"You're hurt." Minho pointed to her knee, which was raw and bleeding where the asphalt had bit into it.

Henna didn't trust herself to speak.

Without a moment's hesitation, Minho tore off a bit of his shirt sleeve and wrapped it around her leg. The material was frayed and fading, which was probably how he shredded it so easily, but he seemed satisfied when no blood soaked through.

She noticed several dirt stains, but didn't mention them, instead getting shakily to her feet. The sun was already sinking toward the horizon. We could be stuck here, she realized with a jolt. Her mind began working at the problem, trying to retrace their steps, but the lengthening shadows were making it hard to concentrate. Like most children in the scorch, Henna was deathly afraid of the dark. The dark brought screaming and crying in the distance, and fewer people when you woke up.

"Henna?"

She realized she had been walking away from Minho, and now she saw what had tripped her. Something gnarled and brown jutted from the pavement, so subtle she wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't known it was there. She had seen rope before, and was instantly reminded of strings woven together, but somehow this seemed more...organic. Her eyes followed its twisting shape, extending around the corner of a concrete structure. She walked forward, hardly registering Minho's hesitant footsteps behind her. Her feet abandoned the sidewalk and found dirt, but she didn't notice. Slowly, the two of them rounded the corner.

And gasped.

Before them, something tall and silvery stretched toward the sky. Henna's eyes followed the curvature of its wooden skeleton, coming to rest on the makeshift house nestled in its branches. She'd seen trees before- in books. But this? This was real. Though the leaves and healthy-looking bark were long gone, it was as clear to her as if someone had told her so.

Laughing in disbelief, she ran forward.

"Wait!" Minho protested.

But Henna ignored him. Set into the tree's splintering bark were wooden planks -a makeshift ladder- she guessed. Without waiting to see if they would hold, she started up. Her muscles ached before she had even gone halfway, but she willed them to keep hauling her skyward.

"Henna, I'm not sure we should be doing this!"

Henna spared a glance back down at the ground, where Minho still stood.

"Come on!" She urged. "You're not afraid are you?" When he still looked hesitant, she stuck her tongue out and continued climbing. Though, she was secretly pleased when she heard a grunt below that meant he was coming.

Finally, they reached the top. Panting, they flopped onto the floor of the makeshift house and exchanged matching grins.

"Beat you." Henna said between gasps.

"Whatever." Minho pushed her aside and got to his feet, taking in the cramped space.

Henna pushed him back, then followed suit.

"Wow." She breathed. Though the walls and ceiling were bare, she knew, like she had known about the tree, that this little room was theirs.

"Hey!" Minho yelled, a delirious smile breaking across his face. "I can see my house from here! I know where we are!"

"No way!" Henna shoved him aside. But he was right. From the single square window, she could see far above the twisting alleys; The way home was as clear as day. "Let's go!" She made to lower herself back down the way they'd come.

"Wait!" Minho had just started after her when he took off the parka tied at his waist.

Henna blinked in surprise. She hadn't remembered letting go of the oversized jacket, but before she could recall exactly when he had taken it back, or perhaps retrieved it, Minho was spreading it over the floor. A look of reverence crossed his features. He looked up, his chocolate brown eyes meeting her slate grey ones.

"This is our secret," He said solemnly, in answer to her unasked question.

"and we don't need anyone else."