'Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter Two- An Explaination and a Recognition

Newt lead her to a small dining hall sort of place, with picnic tables lined up outside. A big guy was cooking, running about from dish to dish. He looked up when he saw the two approach.

"So," he said. "I guess this is the famous girl I seem to be hearing no end of, eh?"

"I guess that's me." Riley agreed with a small smile.

"Riley, this is Frypan. Frypan, this is Riley. Think you can get us something to eat? Want to get Riley out before the majority of the crowds come." He said.

"Sure. One second." Frypan turned and made two sandwiches up on two plates, and slid them across to the pair. They thanked him, and Newt lead her the furthest of the picnic tables. Riley watched him as he took long strides. He had a limp. Not madly terrible one, but still definitely noticeable. She wondered where he had got it.

He was taller than her by a lot more than she first guessed, but still not as tall as some of the other Gladers she'd seem. His eyes were intense and intelligent. He walked with a certain pride, like he wasn't going to give up anytime soon.

As she slid onto the bench, she realised something; she didn't know how old she was, nor what she looked like.

"Newt?"

"Yeah?"

"How old d'you think I am? And what do I look like?" She asked, folding her arms.

He scanned her up and down, studying her. Riley raised an eyebrow, fighting of a blush. After a few minutes, he finally spoke. "You look around fifteen, if I had to guess. Reddish hair. Blue eyes. Light skinned."

Riley nodded. "Thanks." She said. "It's weird, you know. Having no memories."

"Tell me about it." Newt laughed.

"How long have you been here?" She asked. "Can you at least give me a little information."

"Two years. This whole thing started with me, Alby and a bunch of others-"

"Alby? He's the leader here, I'm guessing?"

"Yes. Now, if you want to learn anything, I'd shut up and bloody listen. So, a bunch of us came up in the box. No memories. They sent us with a load of supplies. We pulled ourselves together pretty quickly. Every week supplies come up in that box. Every month, we get another Greenie. There's gotta be about fifty of us here. We don't know why we're here, or who put us here. But we call them the Creators." Newt paused, and Riley nodded at him to continue. "Out there." He pointed out the exit in the wall nearest. "Is the Maze. It's full of Grievers-" he paused, as if expecting another question, but Riley kept her mouth closed.

"The Grievers come out at night. The walls close every night, open each morning. The runners go out into the Maze every day to find a way out. So far, nothing. Day by day, we work. Work to survive. We all have jobs. I'm guessing you'll get one soon. Enough information for you?"

"For now." Riley smirked. "Anyway, you say everyone has a job. What's yours?"

"Second in command. Keeping everyone under control, helping out with whatever."

"Okay. What job d'you think I'll get?"

"Sheesh, I don't know. Whatever suits you most. You'll try out for everything." He paused. "Except runner."

"Why not runner?"

"Greenie's don't get to be runners. It takes ages, and you have to gain our trust. Plus, there's only eight needed. All spots are taken. Being a runner is a dangerous job. You gotta be fast, you gotta be clever, you gotta be sharp, and you gotta be strong."

"You saying I'm not all those things?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know what I bloody mean."

"I bloody do." Riley's smirk grew wider.

Newt folded his arms, but he was smiling a little. "Alright. That was one step over the line."

Riley burst into laughter as Newt tried to keep a straight face. It wasn't all that funny, but laughing felt great. Eventually Newt began chuckling, too. Even his laugh was familiar.

"So, Riley." Newt said, regaining himself. "I'll have words to Alby about your sleeping arrangements, but I strongly suspect he'll put you in the homestead. All the keepers, Alby and myself sleep up on the top floor. You'll be safe there."

"Right."

It was getting dark. "C'mon, I'll take you to see the doors close."

Riley followed him to the nearest door, her feet dragging. She pushed the hair that had been covering some of her face behind her ear. As she did, Newt stopped short, staring at her.

"What?"

"Riley, there's a huge gash across your forehead. Did you not bloody notice?" He reached forward to her wound, causing her to shiver at his touch. He showed her his bloody fingers.

Embarrassed, Riley tugged the hair back into place. "It's nothing." She said. "Doesn't even hurt any more."

Newt narrowed his eyes. "Whatever. But we'll take you to the medjacks right after this."

He stopped at the gap. Riley couldn't see far in, but it wasn't much- just a stone corridor, the walls covered in moss. She could make out a figure nearly to the entrance. "Runner?" She asked. Newt nodded.

The Runner came closer until he jogged out of the gap, and into the sunlight. He surveyed the pair and raised an eyebrow. As he did this, Riley suddenly felt like she had been punched in the gut.

The guy was familiar. Not like Newt. A different sort of familiar. Like she'd know him all her life. Like she knew everything about him. But she didn't know anything about him. He was tallish, olive skin, dark hair, athletic.

She knew him.

A look of recognition passed over his own face. He knew her, too.

"Minho." She whispered. She didn't know where the word came from, but it just slipped out, and she felt like she'd said it a thousand times. She had said it under her breath, and it looked like no one else had heard.

"Riley?" He mumbled, stumbling to a halt, almost falling on his face.