Murder In The Maze (Maze Runner Fanfiction)

Chapter 31: Bait

     "Why'd you be looking for Zart?" the guy inquires, his forehead creasing.

     "I wanted to ask him a few things."

     He squints, moving his face closer.  A frown tugs at his mouth as the gardener rubs his chin profusely.  "What did you say your name was?"

     "Tanya," I state blankly.

     "Tanya," he mutters in a shallow voice. "Oh, yes.  You're that girl who got stabbed the other week, nasty stuff," he pauses, shaking his head, "I'm Maximus, by the way, but everyone calls me Max."

     Almost instantly, the wound in my side aches with mild pain.  I rub my hand against it, pressing my fingers around the scar.  The pain begins to fade, almost disappearing entirely.

     After a short moment, he nods, "I can take you to see Zart, if you want, but, he's not the most interesting of us gardeners, rather a moody shank.  Well, me on the other hand..."

     "I just need to talk to him about something," I respond.

     Max cocks his head to the side. "Alright then, follow me."

     He proceeds trampling through the garden, stepping over the plants.  Following close behind, I manoeuvre my way through the weeds and vegetation.  Sprinklers spray lukewarm water over my boots at a low velocity, dampening my socks.  My socks squelch with each step as water leaks through to my toes.

     As we approach the end of the garden, Zart's curly bop of hair peaks over a tomato plant.

     "Zart, the med lady's here to see you," Max stops, pointing his finger to Zart.  "Ask away,"

     Zart pokes his head around the plant; reluctantly, he limps out from behind.  A sickly pale void lies over his face.  Sunken cheeks give him an almost eerie appearance, and a dark shadow lingers around his eyes.  He calls out, spluttering through his words, "Wait, don't come any closer!"

     "What's wrong?" I question.

     "I'm still recovering, but, I still might be contagious..." he coughs again, "I think it could be the flu, or something worse.  It's not so bad now, but, I couldn't get out of bed for weeks at one point, it's not something I want to pass around."

     I take a few steps back.  "How long have you had this...bug?"

     "Five weeks, maybe more?" he states, scratching his head, "Anyway, were you here for something?"

     Five weeks, that's too long.  If he's been badly ill for weeks, there's no way he could kill anyone, never mind move the bodies, but if it's not him, then who?

     "I just came to check up on you, you know, see if you needed more meds," I state, nodding my head in assurance.  "Do you?"

     Zart rubs his nose while sniffing dramatically once again.  "No, no, I'm all good, but, eh, I wouldn't say no to a couple more of those painkillers..."

     "Painkillers," I chuckle beneath my breath, "I've got to leave now, but, let me know if you actually need anything."

     "Will do," he responds, disappearing back behind the bush, "see you around."

     As I depart back to the Homestead, a dark cloud of gloom lingers over me.  Panic surges through my body as my heart beats faster.  Every step I take weighs me down, each one seeming heavier than the last.  My skin begins to sweat, sticking my clothes to me.  Tomorrow is the last day, my last chance to prove Newt's innocence, but what else can I do?  There is no more evidence, nothing to prove who the killer is.

     As I near the Homestead, I divert from the path, wandering around the Glade.  Stumbling across a large oak tree, I sink and rest at the base of it.

     Time stretches on.  The sun gradually fades as the hours pass by, and darkness begins to creep across the Glade.  The blanket of warmth over the area soon turns to a cold chill that gnaws at my skin.  A once busy Glade that was bustling with activity quietens as the Gladers head to the kitchen, then the Homestead.

     The darkness grows, spreading across the sky, but no stars appear tonight.  The dim shadow of the moon leaks through gaps in the clouds only to disappear moments later.  A harsh wind whips through the trees as the leaves rustle against each other.  The faded screams of Grievers drown out as they pass over the walls, barely audible.

     "What should I do?" I whisper to myself, "what can I do?"

     I cradle my head in my hands.  "If there's no more evidence..." I mutter my thoughts aloud, "...maybe I should make some, force him to show himself, but how?  Why would he risk anything more, especially with Newt already taking the fall?"

     Leaning back against the tree, I rack my brain again.  "Unless...he had to.  If maybe I could threaten him somehow, or force him to make a mistake, I could catch him."

     A strange, warm sensation fills my bones - hope, hope that I can catch the killer, stop him, and save Newt.  I must find a way before tomorrow, I have to.

     "But how?" the nagging question chafes at my mind.

     "A trap," the thought comes to me, "but what is the bait?" I pause, "he tried to kill me before, but he won't try again, not yet, not now.  Why would he risk exposure?  There must be something, something that would make him take the risk."

     Questions buzz through my mind constantly, but the answers do not come easily.  Hours more pass.  Time drools on and on without fail.  My eyes beckon me to sleep, but my mind refuses to rest.  The night passes slowly; each moment drags on for an eternity.

     The cold wind softens, turning into a light breeze.  The harsh screams of the grievers stop being replaced by the musical chirping of birds singing through the air.  A crack of sunlight peeps over the horizon, signalling the start of a new day.

     Immediately, another idea springs to mind.  "What if the killer thinks I know who he is, or I'm about to?  He would have to try and stop me, even risk revealing himself, to stop me.  I could find him and end this, once and for all."