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 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬 , 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑭𝑰𝑭𝑻𝒀 𝑺𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵 ↳ ' into the thick of it' ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
❝ Never were great runners, were we, Newt? ❞
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ılı.lıllıılı.ıllı ᴺᵒʷ ᵖˡᵃʸᶦⁿᵍ; ( MR. FORGETTABLE david kushner )
GALLY SHOVED THE DOOR OPEN, stepping out into the dimly lit, gray corridor. Up ahead in the dim, yellow glow of a flickering utility lamp were the others. Thomas leaned awkwardly against the poured concrete wall, his arms crossed over his chest, while Newt and Frypan stood nearby alongside Jorge, and Brenda at the end. Madylin kept her eyes on the floor as she followed behind Fitz and Gally, Elizabeth and Murphy on either side of her.
The click-clack of heavy claws on the concrete floor echoed slightly in the confined space, immediately drawing every eye downward. Newt froze. Next to him, Frypan's jaw dropped.
"Murphy?" they said in perfect, stunned unison. Their voices jumped an octave, stripped of any restraint in their sheer surprise. Frypan actually took a step backward, blinking rapidly as if convinced his own eyes were playing tricks on him.
The sudden, intense attention from the group, specifically the sight of Thomas standing just a few feet away, made Madylin's chest tighten. Anger and fear pooled in the back of her throat, burning like battery acid. Her hands balled into rigid fists, her nails digging right back into the bloodied bandages on her palms. Her jaw locked. She wanted to hurt him. The violent urge was an overwhelming wave, pushing her toward a precipice.
She forced herself to look down, her eyes tearing away from Thomas to fixate entirely on the scarred muzzle of the German Shepherd. She reached a trembling hand out, burying her cold fingers deep into the coarse, warm fur on top of Murphy's head. He's real, she thought desperately. This is real. The anger is fake. She forced a deep, ragged breath into her lungs, holding it for a second before pushing it out. She stroked the dog's head frantically to stave off the panic.
Gally and Fitz immediately honed in on Madylin's shift. Their eyes locked onto her, tracking her every movement. Gally kept his hands free, his weight shifted slightly onto his toes, ready to intervene if she lunged for Thomas again. They braced for the worst, waiting to see if the conditioned sleeper agent inside her would take the wheel.
Nothing happened.
The rigid line of Madylin's shoulders slowly dropped a fraction of an inch. Her breathing remained fast, but her boots stayed planted firmly on the ground. A heavy sigh of relief escaped both Gally and Fitz at the exact same moment.
