Shadow of the Maze | Maze Runner [1]

SIX

[ ELECTRA ]

❧

"Gotta keep walking," Minho mumbled under his breath. Electra barely caught on to the words but was glad she heard them. The Maze was getting darker by the second and the longer they walked with this heavy boy draped over them the more their safety would be jeopardized.

Electra kept reminding herself that it was her fault that anyone was in danger at all. The guilt of it all pained her more than any of the injuries she'd faced today. She'd inevitably failed the two simple things she'd been put in the Maze to do. And worst of all, she'd also failed her best friend by leaving him stuck in a death Maze at night when nights were particularly brutal. All because of a stupid cut on her arm. She'd gotten wounded before, in even worse ways than a simple gash in the skin. This time it felt different.

In fact, everything felt different lately. The Grievers. Her own wounds. The differences felt like puzzle pieces. Small, oddly-shaped pieces of an entire picture, but Electra knew she didn't have enough pieces to see the picture clearly. She wasn't even close, and the huge gaps of the unknown made frustration gnaw at her insides.

Before her frustrations settled, she felt Minho veer the group off to the side, toward the wall on their left. "Okay, just sit him down."

They awkwardly set Alby down, his bottom clumsily smacking the stone floor and head falling backwards into the wall behind him. Thomas adjusted Alby's position the slightest bit left and right, until the unconscious boy sat upright without any of their assistance. The three of them looked at Alby, all struggling to catch their breath. What were they to do?

Electra looked over at Minho, hoping to see some form of reassurance that at least somebody had any sort of idea, but his expression was unreadable. He stared blankly at Alby, hands clasped in front of him, his breaths slowly getting deeper and steadier.

A Griever screeched in the distance. Thomas quickly whipped his head around, the blood draining from his face. Electra shifted her gaze from Thomas to Minho. Her best friend had also turned toward the sound, but he didn't seem nearly as frightened as Thomas, at least not at first.

Her best friend looked off into the distance, holding his breath and standing completely still. In contrast to his stiff body language, she could sense so much going on beneath the surface. Behind those eyes she'd seen so many times within the past three years she could almost see the complexities of his thoughts. His wishes. His dreams. His fears.

Then, seconds after the initial Griever screech, the difference within Minho was obvious. He'd snapped. The calm and confident facade broke down. Electra felt helpless as she watched anxiety settle into her best friend.

"This isn't gonna work." Minho's breath quickened as he paced back and forth, staring wildly left and right. "We gotta go."

"Finally someone has some sense," Electra huffed, adjusting her pack on her sore shoulders, hoping her casual tone worked to ease his anxieties.

Her eyes never left Minho, silently pleading for him to calm down. He looked back at her for a split second and she could feel the sheer panic inside his soul. She'd never seen him like this before. It reminded her of how she'd acted her very first day in the Maze. Frantic, anxious, confused. Scared.

"Wait what are you talking about? We gotta do something. We gotta hide him," Thomas said, not moving from Alby's side.

"Where?" Mihno asked aggressively.

"I don't know. Minho, just think. You're telling me there's not a single place we can take him?" Thomas turned to look at Electra. "What about you? You must know something that can help him."