tough love ✔️ | pre-the maze runner minho

08

RUNNERS WERE TRAINED to be hopeful. To go into the Maze each morning with the expectation that something was going to happen that day, some new place or new route that might lead to a way out.

This kind of mentality was very exhausting, especially if nothing had satisfy that hope for eight hundred and sixty three days.

Eight hundred and sixty four days, if today was included.

"Hey, Frank. Can we catch a breath for a bit?"

"We're ten minutes away from the Glade."

"The Door ain't closing for another twenty."

"Shut your klunk and run, Ben. Ten minutes."

Runners were also trained to be prepared. To never be surprised if a Griever or a Beetle Blade decided to show up out of the blue, or a new route was indeed open for exploring.

But a commotion in the Glade wasn't something to be ready for. Runners always expected that they would go home after a tiring, useless day, to a warm, welcoming, safe and restful environment.

The shouts and loud groans could be heard from three minutes worth of run away.

Minho was standing by the Door, expecting the two last Runners in restless anticipation.

Frankie wasn't done being angry, so she turned left immediately. Minho reached out and grabbed her hand tightly, determined not to let her go.

"Hands off, Minho."

"If you're still mad, be mad. We're having a Gathering. Come on."

"Gathering? What happened?"

"Ben, head to the Map Room," Minho instructed. He let Frankie's arm go, "It's Gally."

"What's with Gally?" Frankie followed Minho towards the Homestead.

"He's been stung."

〰️

"NOW THAT EVERYONE'S here, somebody tell me how a shucking Builder managed to get stung," Frypan voiced out what Frankie had been thinking on the way into the Gathering room.

An empty chair sitting behind Clint's, beside Zart's reminded everyone of Gally's absence, followed by his very own alien scream.

"You ready for show and tell, Greenie?"

The Greenie was sitting right in the middle of the room. He was clearly anxious. He had his trembling hands intertwined, his knees pressed together, and his head down.

Hank was young, probably thirteen or fourteen years old with side burns, longer bangs, huge ears, and plump cheeks that didn't match his slim body. His acne-free face paled under the gaze of those he called Elites —a bunch of highly respected guys (and gal) with whom he almost never talk with before.

Frankie glanced at Minho, who returned the look, then motioned to the Greenbean with her chin and raised eyebrows.

"Hey, shank. Relax. We just wanna know what really happened to ol' Gally so we can handle this matter delicately."

Clint snorted, "Delicately."

"Remember what the rules are, shank?" Alby spoke up.

"Y- Yeah," Hank nodded, "Never go to the maze, do your job, never hurt another Glader. Trust each other."

"Exactly. We trust you to make sure no other Glader will do whatever Gally did that caused him to get stung."

"Okay," Hank sighed, "Okay. It was my fault."

"How is it yours?"

"I kept on asking him about the Maze, because I was curious. I kept asking him for days about anything he knew and he lost it today. He took me to one of the Doors and he just went one step in. One step, right where the Door would've close. Then that... That thing showed up out of nowhere, stung him once with his needle-like arm, and rolled away."

"So the two of you went outside the Glade?" Nick asked.

"Yeah," Hank admitted defeatedly, "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I stayed behind him because I was scared. He got stung because of me."

A few treacherous tears rolled down his cheeks. He winced when Gally began screaming from the next room again.

"Good that. Thanks, Hank. You can leave now."

Hank ran away almost immediately after Nick dismissed him.

"Alright, I'll write down your suggestions. Start with Winston."

"Banishment." When the guys began to protest, Winston continued in a louder voice, "Hey. We survive on order. Can't have him do whatever he wants, man."

"Who are you banishing?" Nick asked, "Gally or the Greenie?"

"Both."

Earsplitting roars of objections filled the room at once.

"The Greenie didn't even step out the door! Only Gally did!" Clint said.

"He's new here, doesn't know shuck yet!"

"Banishment is too harsh for one step and no step into the Maze!"

"Everybody will have their say, alright!" Alby shouted, "New rule! Nobody say nothin' unless it's their shucking turn!"

The sounds began to diminish slowly. Once it was quiet enough, Nick pointed towards Zart, "Zart, what do you think?"

"I don't know, man. It's a clear violation of the rules, but they're not really in the Maze yet."

"Any suggestion?"

"Slammer, maybe. Few days," Zart shrugged.

"What?"

"That's too easy on Gally!"

"Too hard on the Greenie!"

Half an hour later, Winston's and Zart's were the only unruled proposals. Others merely agreed with them or made worse recommendations. And then there were Minho and Newt with their 'I'm with Frankie's. She usually has the best ideas.'

"Last but not least, Frankie."

Frankie had been crossing her arms, watching the war of testosterone unfold before her in silence.

"One day for the Greenie and one week for the Keeper. Slammer."

"Good that. Writing it down," Nick paused to jolt down her suggestion on his notepad, "Let's vote now."

"Let's just get this over with. Everybody's in favor with Frankie's, right?" Minho stretched in his seat.

Gally screamed again.

"See, even Gally's agreeing."