{0.6}

                                    

                                          
Disclaimer:
                          
I do not own The Maze Runner or Minho's sass. But I wish I did. 
                          
(admit it- you read that as "Minho's ass")
                          
...
                          
...
                          
(i wish i owned that too)
                          
EDIT: still the truest thing i've ever written
                          
-✼-
                          
Someone was shaking me awake. I brushed it off, thinking it was Minho complaining that I was snoring too loudly or something- at least, I hoped I didn't snore.
                          
Imagine my surprise when someone started ticking my sides. My eyes shot open and let out a giggle, but a hand slapped over my mouth before any more could escape. I panicked, but then my eyes adjusted to the dark and I noticed it was Newt who was hovering over me. His finger was pressed over his lips, a signal for me to be quiet.
                          
"C'mon, Greenie," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I gotta show ya somethin'. Be quiet and don't wake Minho."
                          
I nodded and he took his hand off my mouth, backing up so I had space to climb out of the cot. It was surprisingly comfortable for a handmade bed, and I had slept lightly with no interruptions whatsoever.
                          
Then Newt just had to ruin my peace.
                          
"Hurry up," he urged. "Supposed to show ya somethin' before the wake-up."
                          
"Okay," I murmured, yawning as I did so. I was weary of following him, but he seemed pretty trustworthy, and I felt better about the situation when I noticed Thomas' figure in the doorway.
                          
"Follow me, Greenies," Newt instructed as we crept silently down the hall, trying not to make the floor creak. "And stay close."
                          
We exited the Homestead and walked out into the crisp, early morning air. It was barely light enough outside to see. I got just enough time to look around at the tons of tightly-packed together, sleeping bodies wrapped in sleeping bags on the ground. Newt broke into a run toward the East Wall, giving me and Thomas no choice but to follow along with him, the dewy grass tickling our ankles as we did so.
                          
When we reached the wall, I noticed tiny red lights on the face of it that were blinking on and off. Thomas must've realized them, too, because he asked, "What are those?"
                          
Newt stood by a thick curtain of ivy and responded vaguely, "When you bloody need to know, you'll know, Greenie."
                          
"We'll it's kind of stupid to send us to a place where nothing makes sense and not answer our questions," I pointed out in a quiet voice as I folded my arms across my chest. 
                          
"Shank," Thomas added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I stifled a snort. He sounded really dumb with the slang.
                          
Newt laughed, but quickly cut it off in fear of waking the Gladers. "I like you, Greenies. Now shut it and let me show ya somethin'."
                          
He stepped forward and dug his hands into the ivy, then pulled, spreading the ivy apart. The action revealed a dusty window I could barely see out of because of the dark. It was covered in a slight green pigment from the ivy as well as dirt that smudged the glass. 
                          
"What are we looking for?" I asked quietly, starting to wonder if this was a waste of my time.
                          
"Be patient. One'll be comin' along soon enough."