monachopsis - maze runner

chapter 10

Chapter 10
Assaults and Apologies

Quite honestly, Minho could've given Thomas the rundown of the Map Room by himself. But the alternatives were a) send Florence back to the Med Hut or b) send her to deal with Gally. And given how shaken she looked when she met them at the treeline, he'd rather keep an eye on her.

The thick canopy of trees provided shade as they trekked through the brush. Branches and leaves stuck out and nicked Florence's skin, but she paid them no attention. Her mind was being torn in a dozen different directions. She kept her head down as they walked, dodging overgrown shrubs and fallen trees. She knew exactly where she was going even without watching Minho, her boots etching out a well-worn path she'd traveled many times before.

The Map Room was a circular bamboo hut nestled deep in the woods, almost meeting the back corner of the Glade. Besides the Runners - and the Builders during its construction - Florence, Alby, and Newt were the only ones who had seen it.

Minho pulled open the door and stood aside to let the others in, ducking into the doorway after them and propping it open. The low ceiling was held up with sturdy tree boughs, and the slivers of space between the bamboo provided the only light at the moment.

The outer rim of the hut was packed with trunks of weapons, satchels, and other supplies. Two wooden planks were propped against the wall, bearing the list of rules Runners had to follow and a series of seemingly random numbers; Thomas would learn what they meant shortly.

Florence traced a finger along the edge of the large circular table at the room's center. Mirroring Minho's actions, she gripped the old white sheet draped atop it with both hands. On the count of three, they whipped it back to reveal a three-dimensional diorama of the entire Maze and Glade.

"It's the Maze," Minho muttered, not that he needed to. "All of it." Thomas gaped at it, hunching over to examine the intertwining corridors marked out in sticks. Florence reached into the center square, gently adjusting the patches of moss representing the Glade's trees. She'd helped the Runners build some parts of the map, about two years ago when she decided she needed a hobby before she went insane.

"Wait, wh-" Thomas looked up, catching the end of Minho's remark. "What do you mean all of it? I thought you were still mapping it." Florence's eyes drifted across the diorama, which was (unfortunately) complete.

"There's nothing left to map, I've run every inch of it myself. Every cycle, every pattern," Minho replied, his voice spiked with what almost sounded like defeat. "If there was a way out, we would have found it by now." Florence felt Thomas' eyes flick to her, and turned her head down. Her fingers curled around the table, thumbs tapping the wood. Breathe.

"Why haven't you told anyone this?" Thomas asked, dumbfounded that they'd kept this from the rest of the Glade.

"Alby and I made that call," Florence muttered, her voice scratchy from crying. "Those boys have nothing without hope, they needed to believe we could find a way out."

"But now," Minho held up the Griever device, "we might have a real chance." He passed the thing to Florence, who made a quiet noise of disgust and quickly wiped off the remaining slime with the cloth.

"Take a look at this," Minho continued, drawing Thomas' attention to the outer circle of the map. Eight smooth stones sat evenly spaced apart, numbered with black ink. "About a year ago, we started exploring these outer sections. We found these numbers printed on the walls, for Sections One through Eight. The way it works, every night when the Maze changes, it opens up a new section. So today, Section Six was open. Tomorrow it'll be Four, then Eight, then Three. The pattern always stays the same."