𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ༒ minho {the maze runner trilogy}

sixteen ~ goodbye, friend

By noon, the sun was feasting upon those that were in its direct path, heating up their foreheads and causing sweat to deposit into their clothing. It was no bother for anyone who was used to it and in a fit state, however, Ben did not fall under such a category.

His energy and stamina were deteriorating by the hour, and he couldn't manage a bite at lunch, or watch anyone else eat, for that matter. 

Once they had resumed after their break, he found himself out of breath after just a few minutes.

Londyn noticed he was falling behind as she jogged behind Minho, looking back at Ben. "Hey, Minho, wait up."

"We don't have time to stop," Minho scolded, as he usually would.

The two studied Ben, who was more than relieved to stop. He was leaning against the wall, sweatier than both of the others combined. It was as if he couldn't catch his breath, not while his mouth and throat were bone dry and his head pulsated in agony.

"Are you okay, Ben?" Londyn asked, approaching him. "You got enough water?"

Ben nodded, attempting to conceal his breathlessness but failing. "Yeah, I'm good. Just give me five."

"We gotta go," Minho urged the two once again, glancing ahead quickly. "Ben, you can go back."

Ben did not reply, and the others let him have that argument with himself in his own head. Londyn patted him on the shoulder.

"Seriously, if you're not feeling it, go back," she added on. "You know the way, right?"

"I'm hungover, I'm not dying," he spluttered, wiping his forehead with his arm. He stood up straight. "Guess I'll go then, sorry guys."

"No problem," Londyn said, tilting her head towards Minho. "The only thing you have to worry about is never hearing the last of this."

"I think I can live with that," Ben replied hoarsely, turning around to start the journey back to the Glade. 

Minho and Londyn then continued the route in silence, reaching the end as usual and taking a quick water break to prepare for the run back.

"Watch out for puke puddles on the way back," Minho told her between sips of his water, and she pursed her lips together in disgust.

"Nice," she said. "You'd think he'd have learned after the last million times."

"Dumb shank," Minho continued, putting his water away. "Shame he's so good at running."

"Be nice," Londyn lectured him, knowing he was joking, but not wanting him to turn it into something real. "Remember when it was me who made that mistake? You still let me be a Runner."

"That's 'cause you're hot," he said boldly, starting to walk ahead. 

She laughed, picking up the pace into a jog through the Blades. "You never fail to amaze me."

"I said what I said."

While they were running back the same way they came, Londyn noticed a shiny puddle of red substance on the floor, surrounded by another kind of guck. It looked at least a couple of hours old, parts of it beginning to dry out. There was a trail of bloody footprints the next few meters ahead of it. Human footprints.

"Minho, stop," she called, and he turned around, watching as she knelt down in front of it.

She looked up at him, worry taking over her face. "Ben."

"Shit," Minho cursed, looking both ways before gesturing at her. "Let's go."

Upon making it back to the Glade as fast as they could, the two found that the energy seemed extremely off. It was as if no one was around, and it was quiet.