Stars ➳ TMR, Thomas [1] ✓

Chapter {11}

(A/N): So, today I studied for Latin class we have on Monday and was like: "Okay, you can squeeze it in your schedule", only to realise, after spending 45 minutes on it, Monday is a holiday in my country so we won't have school then. Let me just say it took a few minutes to settle in.

But, onto the story!

Aria's POV

"Aria, no!" As an air splitting scream, so full of despair and pleading, Thomas's voice was the last thing I heard before landing on hard, lifeless maze floor. My head snapped slighty at the closed doors, thoughts far from good being only ones around my head as my eyes bore into the gray metal. Sun has already disappeared without a trace, leaving a light-blue sky that dimmed with every passing second, hardly trying to provide me with any hope of survival. Along with sudden sadness as a representation of the sky, a wind arose, carrying dust and ivy leaves with itself.

Next to me, sounding muffled was a groan, fear and agony within it. My eyes turned to face the person there, my breath stopping slightly when I saw Thomas holding his hand in pain. Vulnerably on his knees, chest heavily moving with uneven breaths while his hand gripped the other. Blinking at rapid state, a fair amount of worry taking me I crawled toward him slowly as his eyes met mine. Shivering because of the wind, and most probably the pained look in his eyes too, I let my lips part in search of appropriate words, only to close due to blankness of my mind. Thomas nodded firmly, indicating he was okay and motioning toward huffing and panting Minho who sat down with an unapproving expression.

"You just killed yourself." Minho muttered, looked at both me and Thomas. His features were coated in tiredness, forehead glistening with tiny specks of sweat that were drying off where dirt caked his face.

Freeing myself of hopelessness, a shudder of disbelief we actually wouldn't survive I crawled towards Alby. A gash on his forehead covered almost whole right side of his head, painfully placed above his closed eye.
"What happened?" I asked, narrowing my eyes in worry over our leader, who now knocked out lay motionless. By me Thomas appeared, casting yet another worried look at Alby.

"I did what I had to do." Minho answered rather harshly, just as a breath of despair came out of his mouth. Looking up at the Runner, I let my brows knit together in confusion. Then a low screech erupted from somewhere in the Maze, causing a tired boy in front of us stand up abruptly, and ignoring his every move filled with pain, continue moving toward the lonely corridor which led deeper into the Maze.

"We gotta go." Minho gushed, his breathing increasing considerably, considering the almost calm movement of his chest before. His hands swayed by his sides loosely due to the tiredness of his being as he urged to move forward.

"Wait, Minho, what about Alby?" Thomas uttered worriedly, feebly eyeing Minho whose movement stopped.

"If we don't make it back by morning, which I'm pretty sure we won't, he's gonna die." Minho snapped, laughing ironically a small but definite laugh while I directed him with a pleading look. He's demeanor changed into serious in seconds, as he finally decided to help Thomas and I. Hooking my hands over one of Alby's legs, Thomas next to me doing the same we lifted him up fairly easy and together, sadly left the closed doors that led to the Glade behind.

We made it a few turns, few lefts and rights before Alby's weight became too heavy to carry around. The same looking corridors lay on each our sides, running into a shadow of inky black with ivy hung loosely on their sides like a snake coiled around its pray. Giving up, not wanting to waste any more strength on continuing, the three of us concluded that this way we weren't getting far. Soon we found a place beneath rows of ivy where we decided to lower Alby. Thomas and I sat down; Thomas on the left from him and I on the right, my legs already screaming from soreness. I rested my head on the wall behind my back, gently taking in breath which soon when I heard a long, sharp wail that pierced the air like cold of winter and some metalic movement following it.