☆彡 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝘇𝗲 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿
❛ 'cause someone is out there, and they're sending out flares. ❜
FLARE | NOUN OR ADJECTIVE
a sudden brief burst of bright
flame or light, a sudden burst
of intense...
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ The doors weren't closing.
Why the hell weren't the doors closing?
In the years she had been in the glade, Kennedy had never seen — nor, had she heard of — the doors not closing. That was what happened every night; they closed for a long twelve hours, and then they reopened every morning. It was like clockwork.
Those doors were the only thing that stopped the grievers from getting to them. With those doors shut, nothing had the ability to hurt them from within the maze. The gladers were safest with the doors shut but now they weren't shutting. In fact, they weren't doing anything at all; nothing was happening. While the sun had already set beyond the walls, the doors were still wide open and completely unmoving. Never had this happened before, and as their group of teenagers rushed towards the doors and stared into the maze, they had no idea what to do about it. Alby would have known what the best thing to do was, the best course of action. He would have told them, lead them, saved them. But, Kennedy wasn't Alby. The boys were his boys, even if they were technically now hers. He had been their leader — Alby was Alby. He had been Kennedy's leader, too.
Kennedy wasn't Alby.
She gnawed at her bottom lip. She was hoping the doors would suddenly defy all odds and close.
