Pasty's story [The Maze Runner]

14

 Thomas stared at Pasty as she pulled Minho’s head onto her lap, before calling out for Alby and Newt and shuffling closer to the pair of them. Minho was panting heavily, sweat dripping from his forehead. Pasty wiped it away with concern and kissed his forehead lovingly. Thomas knelt down beside them.

 “Hey-you okay?” Thomas asked. Minho wheezed in response.

 “I’m … fine,” he said “Who the klunk are you?”

 “This is Thomas, Minho. Remember? The Newbie.”

 “Oh, yeah, Thomas. Newbie. You and the chick.”

 Alby hurried over, face crumpled in concern “What’re you doing back, Minho? What happened?”

 “Calm your wad, Alby,” Minho said wearily “Make yourself useful and get me some water- I dropped my pack out there somewhere.”

 Alby gave Minho a hard kick insistently, eyes blazing with fear and nervous excitement “What happened?”

 “I can barely talk, shuck-face! Get me some water!” Minho croaked in annoyance.

 Alby shared a quick exchange with a frightened Thomas as Pasty began to calm down, realising Minho was okay. He evidently hadn’t been stung.

 “He lets you boss him around?”

 “You’re scared of that pip-squeak,” Minho chuckled “Dude, you got a lot to learn. Freakin’ Newbies.”

 “Play nice, Minho,” Pasty said, hugging him close in relief “Man, I thought you were on your way to the Changing then. Don’t you scare me like that.”

 “Cool it, shuck face. I’m just fine and dandy,” Minho said, lightly touching her face. Pasty pushed him off her.

 “Good. Then get off me. You’re all sweaty.”

 Minho grinned and took off his shirt, wiping sweat from his face. He turned to Thomas “You saw the chick, right? Everybody says you probably know her or something.”

 “I said,” Pasty said.

 “I don’t know her, honest,” Thomas said defensively.

 “Relax. I know that,” Minho said. He leaned closer, a mischievous smile on his face “She hot?”

 Pasty laughed and swatted Minho and Thomas seemed to relax a little “Yeah, I guess she’s hot.”

 Minho lay his head on Pasty’s knee again, chuckling lightly “Yeah, you guess. If you got a thing for chicks in comas, right?”

 “So…you find something today?” Thomas asked. Pasty’s ears pricked up and they both looked at Minho.

 “You know what, Greenie? That’s usually the dumbest shuck face thing you could ask a Runner. You said that any other day, I’d think you dumb as a Griever. But hell. Not today.”

 Before either Pasty or Thomas could ask what Minho meant, Alby returned with water, and Minho grinned, slinging an arm around Pasty’s waist as he guzzled water noisily. After he finished off the whole bottle, his lips smacked off the neck and he grinned again.

 “I found a dead one.”

 “Huh?” Pasty said.

 “A dead what?” Thomas asked eagerly.

 “A dead Griever.”

 “You what? You shuckin’ me?”

 “I ain’t shuckin’ you. Trust me, I did. I found one big, fat, nasty Griever. Dead. A couple of miles out from here, out near the Cliff.