A MAZE RUNNER TRILOGY
"And one day someone walks into your life,
a total stranger, and they become so important
to you. And while you're only known them such a short time,
you feel you're loved them for a lifetime."
#1 Ranking for #TheMazeRunner
#1...
── # 𝑨𝑪𝑻 𝑻𝑾𝑶 , 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑶𝑵𝑬 ↳ 'what it is to be alive' ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
❝ Feels like running, but better. ❞
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ılı.lıllıılı.ıllı ᴺᵒʷ ᵖˡᵃʸᶦⁿᵍ;( RENEGADES x ambassadors )
THE STINK OF THE EXHAUSTED HIT Madylin before the engine even turned over, burning sharp in her nose, sinking into her clothes, her hair, her skin. There was a cough, a wet rattle, then Bertha, as Jorge called her, roared to life—if you could call it a roar. It sounded like something dying and laughing about it.
Madylin slid onto the cracked vinyl seat and felt the springs bite up through the foam. She traced a finger along the window, the dust cutting a clean, dark trail. A chunk of metal framed her line of sight, a longhorn bull's horns bolted to the grill, the horns wide and menacing. The SUV was a deathtrap and a relic, but it was beautiful in its own way.
She'd never been in a car before. Not that she could remember. The Maze never had vehicles, clearly. She's only ever seen the car. But here, stuck in the middle row, squeezed between Thomas's sharp elbow and the door, Madylin found the sensory overload was intoxicating.
Jorge gripped the wheel with both hands, eyes fixed on the gash of highway ahead. The sunlight glared off the windshield, shooting fragments of light through the cabin, washing everyone's faces in and out of shadow. Newt had the passenger seat, sprawled casually, but his whole body tensed with every bump. He turned every so often to look back, just to check that Madylin was really there, that she hadn't vanished again.
Minho took the window on Madylin's left, staring straight ahead with the look of someone plotting every possible escape route, just in case. Elizabeth, Teresa, and Frypan were crammed into the last row, knees up to their chests. Teresa flicked the back of Madylin's seat whenever she got bored, which was often. Elizabeth kept her eyes on the horizon, and Frypan nursed a bruised rib with both arms, wincing with every pothole.
Fitz and Brenda were jammed into the trunk space, barely enough room to breathe. Brenda had one arm slung around Fitz's neck, her face pressed into the curve of his shoulder. She'd started shivering at some point, and Fitz quietly, almost absent-mindedly, rubbed small circles on her arm, like it was just another day, like this was normal. However, he didn't think twice about why she was even shivering.
Madylin rolled down the window—surprised that it worked, even with a sad screech—and stuck her arm out, feeling the wild speed of the air. Her fingers made wave motions in the wind, the air warm, yet cool and alive, stinging the cuts on her knuckles. For a moment, she let herself imagine what it would be like to just crawl out the window and fly alongside the car, nothing but wind and freedom.
