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EVERY MORNING, HE WATCHED THEM GO. Samson updated his morning routine so that the Runners fit into it somehow. He would get up a little earlier than everyone else, get dressed, and meet the Runners just as they were leaving the Glade. The first day he'd done it, the Runners had all freaked out, practically shooing Samson away from the Maze walls. Samson tried to explain that he was just watching, he was just curious, and eventually, Minho was forced to step in and tell the others to lay off.
Minho and Samson didn't speak about their plan to each other or anyone else. In fact, they barely spoke to each other at all. But, their plan was underway. Every morning, Minho would come out from the Map Room with the Runners, Samson standing nearby, waiting for a signal. And every morning Minho would simply shake his head as if to tell him, Not today. Samson would watch them leave, feeling defeated. He'd been waiting nearly a week and nothing had changed. He was anxiously awaiting the day that Minho would run out and tell him that the time was right, and he could follow him into the Maze. As nervous as Samson was to go beyond the walls, freedom was so close he could almost taste it.
That was the one thing that bothered Samson about the whole situation. He couldn't tell anyone what he was feeling. He and Minho had agreed not to let anyone else in on the plan until it was absolutely necessary. But with every day, it seemed harder and harder for Samson to keep it all bottled in. He desperately wanted someone to confide in.
He knew there was no way he'd be able to tell Newt. Not only would he never allow Samson to go into the Maze, but the two of them had barely even spoken since the night of the last bonfire. Things had gotten so intimate between them that day in the Deadheads, that Samson couldn't even bring himself to meet Newt's gaze when he walked by. More than anything, he was embarrassed. Since that day, just thinking about Newt made his stomach turn.
But, there was Leo and Clark. In the three months since Samson had become a Glader, there was no one else he bonded with better than those two. He trusted them, and he hoped they'd be supportive and perhaps even excited that they'd found an escape from the Maze.
One night after dinner, Samson stood and grabbed Leo and Clark's plates from them, stacking them on top of his. "Hey, can you guys hang out here while I finish dishes? I gotta talk to you about something."
His friends groaned in response, both of them saying his name in unison.
"I won't be long. Please, guys. It's important," he pleaded.
Without another word, Samson headed for the Kitchen with the plates he was carrying. He immediately started on the dishes, with some help from Brandon, which sped things up.
But when Samson went back out into the dining hall, Leo and Clark were gone. Samson frowned, scanning the area around him quickly to double-check that they hadn't moved seats, but the entire hall was empty. He stepped towards the window, sighing. The sun was beginning to go down over the Glade. The Maze doors would close any minute now. From the corner of his eye, Samson spotted Leo sitting on a log by the Maze doors. Clark wasn't too far away from him, chucking rocks at the walls.
