monachopsis - maze runner

chapter 20

Chapter 20
The Mouse Trap

The cafeteria coffee was disgusting, but Florence was forcing down a second cup because there was no way she could listen to Thomas without it. Between the stomach-churning guilt and the persistent snoring, she’d had the worst sleep of her life. At least in the Glade she had some peace at night; she was regretting not taking up Janson’s offer to bring her to the girls’ dorms.

It was evening now, and the kids had spent most of their day locked up in their dorm. Throughout the day, guards had come by to take them for “routine tests,” which Florence only endured without complaint because Dr. Miller was her assigned physician. Because of these constant tests, this was the first time the kids had been together all day. Thomas had decided to take this opportunity to explain his plan for that night, which was why Florence was subjecting herself to such a disgusting source of energy.

“I wanna know what’s through that door.” Florence groaned, downed the rest of the caffeinated sludge, and dropped her head on the table. At some point during the non-consecutive one hour of sleep she’d gotten, Thomas had snuck out of their room through the ventilation system. The kid who’d been there the longest, whose name Florence had already forgotten, had wanted to show him something he found suspicious - tables covered in white sheets being wheeled into a secure section of the building. The vents didn’t even go into that section, and Thomas was adamant about finding another way in.

“You said they were covered up,” Newt replied quietly under the cover of Janson reading another list of names, “so you don’t really know what you saw.” Florence slowly raised her head, propping her chin on her hand.

“I know exactly what I saw,” Thomas protested. “They were bodies. Aris said they bring in a new batch every night.”

“I’m sorry,” Florence said through a yawn, not bothering to cover her mouth. “Who?” Thomas sighed; he was trying to be understanding, given the circumstances, but the time it had taken to recount his findings could have been used to devise a plan. He looked over his shoulder, pointing out Aris in the crowd. He was sitting in the same spot as the day before and appeared to be intently studying a bread roll.

“Well,” Minho raised his eyebrows, nudging Florence as he turned back around, “I’m sold.” Florence rolled her eyes, using her fork to push around the bland mashed potatoes on her dinner tray; the feast on their first night had apparently been a one-time deal.

“Until we know anything for certain, we should just keep our heads down and try not to draw any attention to ourselves, all right?” Newt tried to reason. Thomas nodded, turned his head down to his tray, then smacked his hands on the table and started walking towards the door. “What’s he doing?” Newt muttered, rising slightly from his seat.

“Drawing attention to himself,” Florence sighed. Thomas was walking with his shoulders hunched and his head hung low, as if that would help him blend in with the group of kids going through the door. A guard slammed his hands into Thomas’ chest when he tried to get past, and the rest of the boys stood up. “Hang on,” Florence ordered. After a few seconds of arguing Thomas turned back around, feigning defeat. Then he caught Florence’s eye; he had a plan.

Thomas whipped back around, lunging at the guards. “Okay go go go,” Florence spun in her seat, sprinting across the cafeteria with the boys behind her. They swarmed Thomas, pulling him away from the guards and putting distance between them. Florence grabbed his arm, and he moved it behind him in a way that seemed like she’d done it. He pressed something into her hand, and she slipped it into her pocket without checking what it was.

“What’s happening here?” Janson shouted from the doorway, obviously having heard the commotion; the whole cafeteria had, and they were looking at Thomas like he was crazy. Which he was. “Thomas,” Janson clapped his hand on Thomas’ shoulder and the Gladers backed off. “I thought we could trust each other.” Florence slipped her hands in her pockets and found a thin rectangle of plastic with a clip on one end. Thomas had stolen the guard’s keycard. “You know we’re all on the same team here.”