monachopsis - maze runner

chapter 29

Chapter 29
Respite 

With a bit of driftwood, Florence poked at the remains of their little dying fire. The sun was setting over the sea, staining the sky and water a deep purple. The Gladers - it was absurd even to call them that - had split off from the camp hours ago. They sat among empty crates and watched the final construction of the rusty old ship that would carry them far from that beach, as far away from ‘home’ as they’d even been.

“This doesn’t feel right.” Florence’s driftwood fell to the sand with a soft thump and she tilted her head up to look at Thomas. His hands gripped his forearms like it was the only thing keeping him together. The sparks of the fire swirled in the soft brown of his eyes, which had been resolutely fixed on the flames for the last hour. “He should’ve been there.”

“I wanted Minho to be on that train too, Tommy,” Newt sighed, rubbing his hands together for warmth. “We all did.” His eyes flicked down to Florence where she sat on the sand and she quickly looked away, tucking her knees to her chest. He’d been the first to check on her when she returned from the pier, but she wouldn’t talk about what happened. He knew better than to ask, although it didn’t stop him from worrying.

“I just can’t believe we’re talking about leaving without him,” Thomas uttered. Florence’s hand fell on her leather cuff out of habit. She knew this was where she should step in and give a rousing speech about doing the right thing, but she couldn’t be bothered. She’d lost enough. They all had. Taking Minho away had been like firing a bullet into a corpse - pointless and only intended to cause more pain for the mourners.

Newt breathed warm air into his cupped hands. “We’ve been chasing WCKD around the Scorch for six months. I’m surprised Minho’s even held out as long as he did.”

“I’m not,” Florence muttered, wrapping her arms even tighter around herself.

“Me neither.” She turned her head up to Frypan, her lips pressed into a thin line - it was the closest thing to a smile she could manage.

“This Safe Haven…” Newt continued, carefully dissecting his words before he said them. They’d become a volatile bunch, not that anyone could blame them. “I don’t know if it’s the paradise Vince says it is, but I do know that we’ve come too far to stop now.” Florence chewed her lip; she knew Newt was right, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Guys!” Their attention shifted to the top of the pier, where Harriet stood. “Sonya and Aris are talking,” she panted, hands on her knees. Piling sand on their fire to smother it, the kids abandoned the beach and weaved through the boatyard’s decrepit buildings to the first aid hut. Most of the kids had fallen asleep before the medics could check them out, Sonya and Aris included, and this was their first opportunity to get some answers.

“Took you guys long enough to rescue us,” Aris tried to joke, wincing as Florence’s fingers brushed his skin.

“Hold still,” she huffed, turning his chin to get a better look at the bruise around his eye. “How did this happen?”

“I fought back.” Florence raised an eyebrow. “I tried to, anyway.”

“Looks like you did a shit job of it.”

“Thanks.” Florence smiled, gently applying a salve to the purple skin and double-checking the gash across his cheek that she’d already bandaged. She kept her focus on him as she squeezed herself into the empty seat beside Newt on the windowsill. Aris had a haunted look in his eyes as he stared at the floor, anxiously fiddling with a roll of bandages. Most kids came out of WCKD with that look.