22

                                    

                                          
There was a light on the ground. 
                          
I narrowed my eyes into the deep darkness. Soon after dark had fallen, I'd realised that I had almost no difficulty seeing in it. I'd been lying on the ground, not knowing what to do, staring at the sky in hopes that the sun would rise sooner.
                          
I frowned, standing. What was that? 
                          
I'd almost reached the tiny, flickering light, when another appeared, seemingly from nowhere. Then another, and another, creating a string of soft light on the ground. I sprinted along the path they formed, knowing that what I was doing was either really, really stupid and dangerous, or actually a good choice. 
                          
The lights stopped. I realised I was standing in front of a wall—no, not the wall, but the circular door carved within it. 
                          
Should I. . .?
                          
Considering that what was behind the door was probably safer than what lay outside—the open Maze filled with Grievers roaming around in search for prey—I pushed down on the handle, giving way to my curiosity.
                          
My surroundings were, oddly enough, disappointing. I'd wound up in an empty, black room, the only source of light being the torch on the wall. I took two careful steps, looking above, under, and near me for any traps. The flame of the torch cast shadows across the walls. I picked it up, and a single swing of it forward revealed what made the room so special.
                          
Those weren't just walls. They were maps. 
                          
On the wall in front of me, just below eye level, were the words Zone 1, EXPERIMENTAL.
                          
I blinked, confused.
                          
Underneath the letters, a large map stretched from one corner of the wall to the other. My hairs stood on end when I noticed that it was identical to the map of the Glade, and what we'd managed to record of the Maze.
                          
 I turned on my heel, facing the wall to my right.
                          
Zone 2, JUNGLE.
                          
Next, the wall to my left. This had two smaller maps. 
                          
Zone 3, TUNDRA.
                          
Zone 4, POLAR.
                          
And then, the wall behind me, the one with the door.
                          
Zone 5, DEATH.
                          
I didn't know then what I'd stumbled across. I turned and approached the first map I'd seen, the one who resembled ours.
                          
The realisation hit me like the strongest of blows. I gasped, covering my mouth. 
                          
Zone 1 was the Zone we had explored, with the eight Sections. We'd never entered the other Zones, and there was five of them.
                          
I figured that the exit was in another Zone, not in the one Minho and the other Runners had kept searching for two years. And it was going to take at least double the amount of time to explore each of the Zones.
                          
We were screwed. 
                          
I put the torch back in place. There was nothing I could do besides curl up in a corner and fall asleep. 
                          
* * *
                          
The next morning, the boys woke up early, right as the Gates opened. 
                          
Newt was the first one to get there, even with his limp. Everyone waited for a few moments in front of the gaping gates, the silence coming from within speaking of terrible things. Some Runners even dared to run a few metres inside the Maze, but they returned quickly, emptyhanded.
                          
"She's—" Alby began.
                          
Newt's voice was levelled. "If you even dare to say it, I am going to overlook the fact that you're the leader and feed you to the Grievers, limb by limb."
                          
Newt didn't stick around, not even able to shed a tear. There was a gaping hole in his soul. It made him feel nothing, except the darkness that engulfed him in waves. He didn't eat, breakfast nor lunch nor dinner. He just walked around the Glade like a shadow, glaring at everyone who accidentally brought up the subject. 
                          
Deep down, in his mind, he knew that she must be dead, yet his heart refused to accept it.
                          
The day passed, no Runners heading into the Maze, perhaps awaiting a sign.
                          
What they didn't know was that the sign was running towards them, full speed.
                          
* * *
                          
I kept sprinting, knowing that I was close to the Glade's gates. As soon as I got to the last corridor, the opening right in front of me, the boys that saw me gasped and began yelling.
                          
"Emily!"
                          
"Emily's alive!"
                          
I spotted Newt and Chuck in front of the crowd, awe obvious on their faces even from a distance.
                          
But there was one problem.
                          
The doors were closing.
                          
And I wasn't close enough. I forced my tired muscles to cooperate, my blistering feet burning, not enough air in my lungs.
                          
I could almost feel the Glade's fresh air when Newt extended his hand and pulled me in, right as the gates closed with a thud. 
                          
Newt lost balance, sweeping me off my feet. We tumbled to the ground, and, panting, I realised I'd landed on top of him.
                          
"Hi," I panted, "and thanks, by the way."