Rogue | Group B → The Maze Runner¹

i.eleven

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● [ xi . two years and one month ]

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ROGUE WAS covered in blood, the viscous red staining her clothes and leaving dark, sticky patches all over her body. Dried blood encrusted her forehead and arms and the metallic scent of iron clung to her.

She set down her axe with a heavy thud, the shaft digging into the soft earth. She winced a little, her biceps burning from the endless hours of hoisting the axe above her head. Sweat trickled down her brow, mixing with the blood and dirt in the early afternoon heat.

Diana called out to her. 'Rogue, take a break,' she said, nearing the shack with a few more animals tied on ropes. Rogue nodded, grateful for the reprieve. She approached the barrel of water they kept at the corner of the Range. Dunking her hands into the icy water, she began scrubbing the blood from her face and arms. 

Rogue had been working with the Choppers for a month, and the monotonous labour of slaughter had begun to take its toll on her. Since the strike, Ximena had taken over Role's position as Jailer of the Carriers, much to Rogue's chagrin. Although a part of her missed the challenge, missed the control that the Maze offered, another part of her found a twisted sort of satisfaction in watching Ximena falter at every stage.

Ximena didn't know the patterns, the directions, the changes. Rogue derived joy from each Carrier, begging for her return, but she had refused each time. Though, it wasn't as if she enjoyed the Chopper work much either, but it allowed her more time to simply be. She also seized it as an opportunity to spend her days with Ada. Her thoughts were interrupted by a shout. 'Rogue!'

She turned to see Hashslinger, holding a girl by the collar. The girl was young, around twelve or thirteen, and had arrived in the Box a few days prior. She had dark brown, almost reddish hair, and was relatively short for her age, though Rogue wasn't well-versed in determining height. The Blondie hadn't spoken much to anyone since her arrival. Perhaps she was too young for anyone to take much notice. Rogue thought it harsh. 

She recalled what had been said about her. 'Bit small for a Blondie, isn't she?' one girl had remarked. 'Think they sent us a half-cargo this time,' another joked. 'Well, they can send her back,' was the final consensus. Rogue turned away. The sight of someone so young, petrified at the bottom of the Box - it made her nauseous. 

Hashslinger released the girl's collar and let her fall to the ground, rubbing her forehead. 'It's your turn with Wally,' she said.
Rogue looked at her, confused. 'What do you mean?' she asked, her brow furrowing.
'You didn't come get her,' Hashslinger explained, gesturing to the girl at her feet. 'I need her out of my Kitchen.'

Rogue's face twisted as she tried to understand the situation. Hashslinger's expression mirrored her own, her frown curling into her cheeks. Then, slowly, understanding flashed across her face. 'Ximena didn't tell you?' she asked.
'Tell me what?'