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...
THE SCRRECH OF THE TRAIN'S brakes against the metal rails echoed through the station, a sound that felt like a needle to the ears. As the heavy doors slid open, a wall of filtered... clean air hit Madylin's face. It was too clean. It didn't smell like the dry dust of the Scorch or the damp, earthy scent of the Glade. It smelled like... well she didn't know.
Guards in black tactical gear, released them from the chains connected to the ceiling, nudging them forward with the muzzles of their stun guns. Madylin stepped onto the platform, her boots clicking against the polished floor. Beside her, Minho's jaw was set so tight a muscle in his cheek pulsed. He didn't look at the guards; he looked at the horizon.
Madylin followed his gaze and felt her breath hitch. The city rose up like a titan of glass and steel. It was beautiful in a way that felt violent. Skyscrapers stood so tall, their windows reflecting the setting sun in flashes of gold and orange. Maglev trains drifted silently on elevated tracks, and the streets below were a grid of perfect, unbroken lines.
"Look at this place," Minho muttered, his voice low and raspy. He wasn't praising it. He sounded like he was looking at a grave.
Behind them, Fitz let out a derisive snort. He didn't share their awe. To him, every glowing window was a reminder of what had been stolen from everyone else. "Disgusting," he spat, his eyes narrowed at the pristine surroundings. "All this while the rest of the world rots. They've got gardens up there while people are eating sand in the Scorch."
Madylin's gaze drifted toward the entrance of the central spire, a building that dwarfed everything else. About thirty feet away, three figures stood in a tight circle, their silhouettes sharp against the entryway.
Dr. Ava Paige stood draped in all white that seemed to repel the very idea of grime. Next to her was Janson, his posture stiff, his eyes scanning the platform like a hawk. And then there was Teresa.
Teresa shifted her weight, her fingers nervously picking at the hem of her sleeve. She hadn't seen Madylin in three months. For ninety days, she had been submerged in data, blood samples, and the agonizingly slow progress of the attempts of a cure. Janson had been a wall between her and her past, constantly citing "security protocols" or "emotional distractions."
