in another life; the maze runner

☆thirty-six☆

After the rest of the group took a few moments to examine the scorched world in front of them, Mae and her friends continued walking upon the rubble, loosely following their target of the far off mountains beyond the sea of sand.

The buildings, previously several stories high and sporting glass windows were wilted and broken down, a varias array of different objects scattered between them. There was a narrow path where the rubble wasn't blocking the way; which is where the Gladers chose to walk, one after another in the loose formation of a line. Mae's legs were tired from the night before, and her arm was still aching from her and Minho's run in with a Griever. Not to mention the blaring sun that was sweltering down on them.

"I really hope the whole world isn't like this," Aris piped up from behind her, his voice hoarse. She glanced to her left at Thomas, knowing that he would pitch in with some optimism as he always did.

"I'm sure it's not all this bad." He said, sure enough, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Uncomfortable silence filled the air once again, save for the sound of the small rocks crunching under their feet, making Mae's skin crawl. The less they talked, the more time she had alone with the voices in her head.

And that was more time to think about all the people they'd lost.

She didn't want to think about them. Not now, anyway. She took a few steps toward Teresa, falling into pace with her and giving her a tired smile. The rest of the boys mostly fell into silence, with the exception of a quiet conversation between Aris and Frypan.

"Your hair looks pretty," She offered, admiring her sisters raven hair that seemed to do well in heat, in comparison to hers that had taken to frizzing wildly. Teresa, who had been staring at the ground as walked, glanced up at her. Her expression was blank and her eyes were exhausted, but she seemed to brighten at Mae's words.

"Thank you. I wish I would've braided mine as well so it could be curly like yours, but I don't think I could if I tried," She responded, alluding to the extra effort Mae put in that day in the showers. She took a strand of Mae's hair and twirled it around her finger, watching the curl bounce back up when she released it. Mae suddenly remembered the feeling of familiarity she'd had when she was braiding her hair, and smiled at her sister.

"I'll do it for you sometime. If we ever get that chance," She chuckled, her words meaning to be playful yet coming out melancholy. She ignored the pained expression that flashed on Thomas's face, that she could just barely see out of the corner of her eye, and kept squinting through the sun.

"Are you two really talking about your hair right now?" Minho sassed from a few paces behind. Normally, Mae would have been irritated by a comment like this from him, but she felt relief flood her system as he teased. He was back to normal, even if they were trekking through the desert. Nevertheless, she turned and glared at him, her eyebrows creased in annoyance.

"As if you aren't the most vain person ever," She dared. Minho's smugness only grew in satisfaction. It was clear that he fed off these little spats, they fueled him to continue being the Minho they all knew and adored (if not despised).

"Oh am I? Then do me a favor and tell me, how big do my muscles look in this jacket right now?" He smirked, raising his right arm in a flex to further irritate Mae. She let out a huff of exasperation and rolled her eyes. Minho responded to this challenge by wiggling his eyebrows. The others were invested in the exchange, watching the two interact. She whipped her head forward, hiding her smile as Frypan smacked him on the forehead.

"Minho, shut up." Thomas suddenly spoke, his voice hushed and his expression sincere. He had slowed down his pace, his arms out in front of him to stop the group.