monachopsis - maze runner

chapter 8

Chapter 8
The Last One Ever

The girl looked so peaceful, lying on a cot in the Med Hut, wholly unaware of the turmoil her arrival had caused. Florence leaned over her, gently patting her forehead with a damp cloth to keep her from overheating. She'd already done a quick check for injuries, and when she found none she assumed that meant the girl's coma was caused by something else.

A few feet away, Alby was laying on his own cot; he'd woken up at some point during the Council. Clint and Jeff were planning on telling Florence after the meeting, but clearly circumstances had prevented that. Alby's head was tilted back on his pillow, his mouth open as he released grating sobs - that was the closest he'd gotten to speaking. His wrists and ankles were tied to the cot, a preventative measure in case his Changing went like Ben's. His shirt had been taken off so they could keep an eye on his wound, a purple and black gash going down his torso. It was as if the stinger had been ripped out of him, unlike the clean shot in Ben's stomach.

"Flo." She glanced up as Newt, Thomas, and Minho filed into the hut, then returned her attention to the girl. "What's going on? What's the matter with her, why won't she wake up?" Florence sighed, passing the cloth to Jeff and gesturing to the bucket of water beside the bed.

"Newt, you do realize I'm not a real doctor?" Newt shook his head in frustration, throwing up his hands.

"Wild guess?" Florence's nose wrinkled in annoyance as she took the cloth back and wrung out the excess water.

"She could've passed out from fear or shock," she speculated, folding the cloth and resting it on the girl's brow. "I'm not really sure. We'll just have to give her some time." Florence leaned back against the wall, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Jeff left her side and reappeared a few seconds later with some water, which she took with a mutter of thanks.

Thomas continued to study the girl on the cot, his eyes tracing the shape of her face like she was some kind of fascinating sculpture. He had, in fact, seen her in his dreams. Images of her face and others had been coming to him in hazy flashes the past few nights, every scene bathed in a strange blue light. He knew her, and she clearly knew him, but the dots were too far apart for him to connect.

"Do you recognize her?" Newt inquired, arms folded as he faced Thomas. The boy shook his head, but it looked more like a reflex than an actual answer. "Really? Because she seemed to recognize you." Florence and Minho locked eyes; she mouthed 'hostile' behind her cup, to which he nodded. Newt's voice had taken on a defensive tone as he questioned Thomas, an odd development especially considering that the girl's arrival seemed to have sparked it.

"What about the note?" Thomas asked, trying to divert Newt's attention elsewhere. The five words floated back to the forefront of Florence's mind, tormenting her. She's the last one ever.

"We can worry about that later." Florence silently thanked Newt for his initiative. If she thought too much about the note right then, she'd start spiraling out of control.

"I think you should worry about it now."

No one asked, Greenie. Florence fought the urge to say that aloud, instead settling on "We've got enough to deal with right now." Unlike Newt's sudden harshness, her tone was more gently scolding.

"He's right though, Captain," Jeff piped up. "If the Box isn't coming back up, how long do you think we can last?" Florence took a sharp breath; she hadn't thought of it that way. The note implied that the girl was the last kid they'd send up, but Florence hadn't considered the fact that supply deliveries might stop as well. Even with their gardens, they were only partially self-sufficient. They needed the monthly deliveries to survive.

"No one said that," Newt retorted with an uncomfortable laugh. "Let's not jump to any conclusions, we'll just wait until she wakes up and see what she knows. Somebody's gotta have some answers around here." Florence wasn't too thrilled that they were pinning all their concerns on a coma patient, but she kept that to herself.

"Okay." Thomas nodded, then spun around and made for the door. Newt raised an eyebrow, glancing at Florence before calling after Thomas.

"Hey, where are you going?" To do something stupid, probably.

"Back into the Maze." Yep, there you go. Florence shook her head as Thomas strode out of the Med Hut. Minho jogged after him without being asked, leaving only Newt with the Med-Jacks and their patients.

"You gonna keep an eye on her?" Newt asked. Florence nodded, dipping the cloth into the water and brushing it over the girl's face. Her brow had creased just slightly as she slept, like she was dreaming.

"She's the first girl besides me in three years, I'm not letting anything happen to her." Again, Newt found her fierce protectiveness a bit odd. She'd never even taken to any of the Greenies this fast, so her immediate affinity for this comatose girl seemed a little out of place. But, as Florence had said, she was the only other girl to come up in three years, which explained Florence's feelings of solidarity.

So maybe she was getting attached too quickly, but that was a risk she was willing to take.

***

Florence stayed in the Med Hut long after Newt left to check on the rest of the Glade. The shade was a welcome respite from the blazing sun, even though it didn't keep out the heat entirely. A small wet towel was draped around her shoulders in addition to the one still in her hand. Someone rapped gently on the doorframe, and she glanced up to see Minho standing on the threshold.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" he asked, bouncing on his heels as his eyes flashed between her and the other Med-Jacks. The nervous gestures were wildly out of character for the Keeper of the Runners, so Florence quickly nodded and left the girl in Jeff's care.

Minho led Florence into the woods, just far enough so they couldn't be heard by the rest of the Glade. They could still be seen, however, because whether Minho realized it or not, he was making sure Florence felt safe being cut off from everyone else. (He may have had something to do with what happened to Justin. Or maybe not. He'd never tell.)

"So what's up?" Florence kept her voice hushed as a precaution, anxiously fiddling with the key hooked on her belt.

"Thomas wants to get a closer look at the dead Griever, and I can't seem to talk the shank out of it," Minho sighed.

"So you need me to?"

"Not exactly." Florence raised an eyebrow. "I'm gonna get a group together, this would be something I'd gather the Runners for but considering they all quit this morning-"

"Oh for shuck's sake, Minho-"

"No, just listen," he pleaded, holding out his hands. Florence groaned, raising her head to the treetops before nodding for him to continue. "I think the Greenie has a point. We've never been able to get a close look at a Griever before without the risk of it trying to kill us. This could be a real opportunity to get some answers. And since the Box hasn't gone back down, we need any clues we can get."

"Mhm..." Florence nodded slowly, sensing an ulterior motive of some kind. "And you're telling me this because you need me to be the decoy for Newt?"

"And Gally, yeah," Minho conceded. "Plus I'm pretty sure you'd kill us if you found out we went in without telling you."

"Good point."

"Yeah."

Florence looked around the forest, avoiding his eyes as she thought it through. He'd made some good points, but it was difficult not to let her fears cloud her judgment. Alby, Minho, and Thomas had just barely made it out of the Maze with their lives.

It was getting late, however, as was evident by the dim light seeping through the trees. If they were planning on leaving, they needed to go soon. Florence swallowed her concerns. "Alright, you can go. Just please be careful."

"Yes, ma'am." Minho saluted her before jogging out of the woods, leaving a very anxious Florence all alone.