The First Runner

A Dead One

Thomas POV

My second day started with Newt waking me up.

"Come on Tommy, only day two and you're already slacking," He said nudging me with his foot.

"I'm up, I'm up," I said with a groan. I quickly got breakfast and Newt led me to the Bloodhouse where I'd be working today.

Winston showed me around for the first hour, pointing out which pens held which animals, where the chicken and turkey coops were, and what went where in the barn. The dog, a pesky black Lab named Bark, took quickly to me, hanging at my feet the entire tour. I wondered where the dog came from and asked Winston, who just shrugged and said Bark had always been there. I hoped he hadn't gotten his name as a joke, because he was pretty quiet.

The second hour was spent working with the farm animals—feeding, cleaning, fixing a fence, and scraping up klunk. I found myself using the Glader terms more and more.

The third hour was the hardest. I had to watch as Winston slaughtered a hog and began preparing its many parts for future eating. I swore two things to myself as I walked away for lunch break. First, my career would not be with the animals; second, I'd never again eat something that came from a pig.

Winston said I could go on alone while he hung around the Blood House, which was fine with me. As I walked towards the East Door, I was surprised to see two people enter the Glade from the Maze through the West Door—an Asian kid with strong arms and short black hair, looking a little older than me, and Jess. The two Runners stopped three steps in, then bent over and put their hands on their knees, gasping for breath. They both looked like they'd just run twenty miles, their faces red, skin covered in sweat, and clothes soaked.

I stared, overcome with curiosity. I hadn't seen a Runner up close or talked to one, other than Jess, who I had a brief conversation with the night before. Plus, the Runners were home hours early. I stepped forward, eager to meet them and ask questions.

But before I could say anything, the pair collapsed to the ground. I didn't move for a few seconds. What if something was seriously wrong with them? What if they'd been... stung? What if—

I snapped out of it. The Runners obviously needed help. "Alby!" I shouted. "Newt! Somebody get them!"

I sprinted to the older boy and knelt beside him. "Hey—are you okay?" The Runner's head rested on outstretched arms as he panted, his chest heaving. He was conscious, but I'd never seen someone so exhausted.

"I'm... fine," the Runner said between breaths, then looked up. "Who the klunk are you?"

"I'm new here." It hit me then that the Runners were out in the Maze during the day and hadn't witnessed any of the recent events firsthand. Did this guy even know about the girl? Probably—surely someone had told him. "I'm Thomas—been here just a couple of days."

The Runner pushed himself up into a sitting position, his black hair matted to his skull with sweat. "Oh, yeah, Thomas," he huffed. "Newbie. Looks a lot like Tiger"

I didn't understand what he meant. I look like a tiger?

Alby jogged up then, clearly upset. "What're you two doin' back? What happened?"

"Calm your wad, Alby," Minho replied, seeming to gain strength by the second. "Make yourself useful and get us some water—I dropped my pack out there somewhere."

But Alby didn't move. He kicked Minho in the leg—too hard to be playful. "What happened?"

"I can barely talk, shuck-face!" Minho yelled, his voice raw. "Get me some water!"