A MAZE RUNNER TRILOGY
"And one day someone walks into your life,
a total stranger, and they become so important
to you. And while you're only known them such a short time,
you feel you're loved them for a lifetime."
#1 Ranking for #TheMazeRunner
#1...
THE STAIRWELL DOOR AT THE TOP of the building didn't latch anymore. Madylin pushed it with her shoulder, and it swung out into cool air.
The roof was flat tar paper, patched in a dozen places, littered with old wire and a dead generator someone had stripped for parts. Below and behind her, the slums went on for miles, a low sprawl of tarps and tin and cook fires blinking orange in the dark. Ahead, the wall. A hundred meters of concrete with floodlights mounted along the top, humming loud enough to hear from here. And past that, over it, the towers. All that clean white light.
Newt sat at the far edge of the roof with his legs hanging out over the drop.
Madylin's stomach turned over at the sight of it. She made herself walk anyway. Her boots crunched on grit, and Murphy's claws clicked behind her, the dog having followed her up every flight without being asked.
Newt's shoulders went rigid at the sound. He didn't turn around.
"I already told you, I don't want to talk abou—"
He looked back. His mouth stayed open around the rest of the word, and then it closed. His shoulders came down.
"I'm sorry. I thought you were..." He stopped. She watched him decide not to say it. "Nevermind."
Madylin lowered herself down beside him. She didn't put her legs over the edge. She sat with her knees pulled up and her boots planted flat on the tar, six inches back from the lip, and that was as close as she was willing to get. Murphy dropped down behind her with a grunt and set his chin on her hip.
She reached over and took Newt's right hand. She pulled it into her lap and laced her fingers through his and looked out at the wall.
She didn't say anything.
She could feel him watching her. He kept waiting for it, she knew — for the question, for the lecture, for her to ask what the hell that was down there. He shifted once, opened his mouth, and shut it again.
The floodlights hummed. Somewhere down in the shacks, a baby was crying.
"You know you're not alone, Newt," Madylin finally spoke.
His hand twitched in hers. His eyes went down to his own forearm. He didn't seem to notice he'd done it.
She had noticed everything else. That was the thing. She had been noticing for hours and had been too busy fighting her own head to put it together. The way he kept pressing his thumb into the muscle of his arm on the stairs inside the wall. The lag when he climbed. The way his leg had quit entirely on the tracks. Having your head a bloody mess. He'd said it in the sewer like a confession, and she'd taken it as kindness.
