It felt good to Pasty to be lacing up her running shoes again. She shot Minho a grin as he packed her rucksack for her, stuffing in lunch and a few bottles of water. He smiled back, but he looked nervous. Pasty finished tying her shoes and moved over to him, wrapping her arms around him gently.

 “What’s up, shuck-face?” she asked softly. Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair.

 “I’ve got a bad feeling ‘bout this,” he said “What if it’s a trap? If it is, we’re dumb as hell to go look for it.”

 “We’ve got weapons.”

 “And you know how to fight one of them things, eh, Pasty? I sure don’t.”

 “Relax,” she told him “What happens, happens. We need to go out there. This could be the end. A way of killing Grievers could be a way to get outta here. Right?”

 “Right,” Minho replied uncertainly. Pasty realised she hadn’t succeeded in reassuring him, and kissed his cheek.

 “I got your back, klunk head. We’ll be OK.”

***

 Running again was a blessing. Her lungs burnt and her legs ached, even at their slower pace with Alby trying to keep up, but it felt good. Gulping air into her lungs, she kept going. This is when I feel truly alive.

 Minho ran ahead of her, Alby behind. Is this what our life is? Maybe this is all there is. Running. Who knows what it was really like before? Maybe running is what life is about. She caught a glance of Minho running a hand through his hair, his shirt stuck to his back with sweat. And love she added as an afterthought.

 “Left turn ahead,” Minho called over his shoulder.

 “You sure, man?” Alby wheezed

 “Course I’m sure, shuck face. I’m the Runner here. We’re gonna have to pick up the pace a little. I wanna get back well before nightfall. There’s freaky things going on in this Maze. Freakier than normal, I mean.”

 They ran another half hour or so, Alby desperately trying to keep up, and Pasty waiting patiently for him while Minho sped on ahead.

 “I found it! Damn it, I found it,” Minho shouted gleefully. Alby took his time getting there, breathing hard. Pasty left him to it and jogged up to Minho, who loomed over the Griever. It was even more disgusting up close. It was like a grotesque jelly with spikes and an assortment of mechanical arms, lying uselessly now at the creature’s side. It looked to be drier now. Pasty was used to seeing the creatures covered in slime. It was easier now to see the hair on its body, a sort of greyish yellow colour. Pasty felt sick to look at it. Minho sniggered a little and poked it with his foot. It’s bulbous skin wobbled, but the creature remained still, unanimated.

 “That’s one ugly bugger,” Alby said, gasping for breath.

 “One ugly dead bugger,” Minho said “Man, I can’t believe it’s still here. Do you think whoever’s testing us wanted us to find this? I mean, I dunno man. It’s a bit suspicious. With the newbie girl and all.”

 “That Greenie’s definitely got something to do with this klunk,” Pasty said “She-” Pasty stopped. A sudden realisation had hit her. The dream. The night in the Maze with Minho…

 “No,” she whispered. “We have to get out of here. Right now.”

 “What? No way, Pasty. We have to check this out.”

 “Please, trust me! Something bad is going to happen!”

 Beneath their feet, they felt the rumble. The creature moved. It rolled lazily to the side. Its spike pierced Alby’s foot.

 “Alby!” Minho said, as Alby screamed out and collapsed into his arms. Minho dragged Alby as far away from the creature as he could, grunting. Already, Alby was sweating.

 “Go!” Alby rasped “You need to leave me! It’s too far-”

 “No, I’m not leaving you,” Minho said “Pasty. Help me.”

 The creature was coming back to life. Not dead. Waiting Pasty thought. She slung one of Alby’s muscled arms around her shoulder, bearing half the weight. And then, as best they could, they ran.

 Left, right, right, right, left, left. Pasty’s mind reverted to it’s running state. They had to get back before the gates closed. Get Alby the Serum. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of what might happen if they didn’t. But the sky was darkening and they were moving too slow. Alby was heavy, and they were going at half the speed they normally did. Faster, faster. They’re arms ached. Alby vomited, his eyes bloodshot as they struggled on.

 “You can do this, Alby. You’ll be OK if you keep fighting. You gotta keep fighting it, OK?” Pasty whispered.

 “We’re not going to make it,” Minho said, tears of anguish on his face.

 “Not with that attitude,” Pasty said, though she felt just as pessimistic. She knew that she had to be the stronger one, keep the two of them moving. They shouldn’t be here. This is your fault. You should have remembered Pasty thought. That damn nightmare is coming true. This is your fault.

 They struggled on. Pasty knew they weren’t far now. They turned left again and they could see the Glade ahead of them. In the distance, Thomas stood.

 “They got him!” Minho shouted, his face soaked in sweat and tears.

 “Keep moving!” Pasty urged, thankful for Thomas’ presence spurring them on. She heard him call for Newt, and his limping figure got closer and closer. But the Door was closing now. They weren’t going to make it.

 And then Thomas began to run.

 “No! Damn it Newbie, don’t do it!” Pasty yelled, sobbing. The Door’s two walls kissed in the middle just as Thomas’s slim body slipped through. Pasty screamed out in anger, slamming her palms into Thomas’ chest.

 “You dumb-ass! You shuckin’ little piece of klunk!” she screamed at him. It was dark now. Please don’t leave us here in the dark…

 “Greenie, if you think that was brave comin’ out here, listen up. You’re the shuckiest shuck-faced shuck there ever was. You’re as good as dead, just like us.”

 Thomas’ face was red “I couldn’t just sit there and leave you guys out here.”

 “And what good are you with us. Whatever, dude. Break the Number One Rule, kill yourself, whatever.”

 “Dumb-shuck,” Pasty added, kicking some stones.

 “You’re welcome,” Thomas said, an edge to his tone “I was just trying to help.”

 “Well, you really helped, didn’t you? Helped get four dead instead of three,” Pasty said, rolling her eyes. She still couldn’t believe what had happened. She didn’t want to believe.

 “What happened?” Thomas asked after a short pause.

 “Don’t wanna talk about it,” Minho muttered. Alby lay on the ground, motionless, Minho’s hand locked in his.

 “Let’s just say, the Grievers can play dead really well,” Pasty said bitterly.

 “So he was…bitten? Stung, whatever? Is he going through the Changing?”

 “You’ve got a lot to learn,” Minho said.

 “Is he going to die?” Thomas asked, his voice quivering. Pasty was wondering the same thing.

 “Since we didn’t make it back before sunset, probably. Could be dead in an hour- I don’t know how long it takes if you don’t get the Serum. Course, we’ll be dead too, so don’t get all weepy for him. Yep, we’ll all be nice and dead soon.”

 Pasty wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. She hated it out here. Trapped.

 “Grab those smelly suckers,” Minho told Pasty, nodding towards Alby’s feet “Give ‘em one body that’s easy to find in the morning.”

 “How can this be happening?” Thomas wailed.

 “Quit your crying. You should’ve followed the rules and stayed inside,” Minho grunted as he and Pasty lifted Alby over to the Door. Thomas kept babbling to Minho, and Pasty zoned out. She looked up at the blackened sky. This is where you die. Ain’t no nice send off. Ain’t no angels lifting you to the sky. This is what hell must be like.

 The sound of raised voices brought her back to reality. She saw Minho with his hands balling up Thomas’ shirt, his face screwed up in anger. She touched his arm without a word, calming him. Minho’s face softened and he slid to the ground.

 “Ah, man, oh man,” Minho whispered, clutching Pasty’s hand with both his sweaty ones. He addressed Thomas “I’ve never been scared like this before, dude. Not like this.”

 Then it came. The noise. It started as a low hum. Then came the metallic thwack. And then the clicking. The endless clicking. Minho’s face  crumpled and he leapt to his feet.

 “We have to split up-it’s our only chance. Just keep moving. Don’t stop moving!”

 He began to run. Pasty yelled in frustration.

 “Minho!” she cried. She had a choice. To go after Minho or stay with Thomas. She looked back at the Newbie.

 “I’m sorry,” she whispered “Try and stay alive.” She began to run.

 She caught up with Minho. He was faster normally, but he was exhausted. Pasty grasped his arm in hers, and he fell against her, weeping.

 “I left him,” he sobbed “I’m a wimpy little klunk.”

 “It’s OK to be scared,” she said. “But you need to use your brain.” She tapped his head lightly “You need to think. Right now, we do what we do best. Right?”

 “Which is what?”

 “Run, shuck-face. We run.”