The satisfying smack of cheap plastic against concrete slapped in his ears in a steady rhythm. Each step was measured, even, kept symmetrical and paced by his determination and the cool creep of anxiety up his spine. Constantly checking to make sure Alice was panting only a few feet behind him, as if something would fly from above them and scoop her away, he remained resolutely ahead, leading the way with a surety he did not feel, Hedy's warning echoing through his mind as his legs carried him through the immense concrete halls.

Protect Alice.

As long as they stayed to the left, as long as he checked both ways of each corridor they turned down – like a little kid, looking both ways before crossing a crowded street – as long as Alice desperately panted like a chihuahua chasing labrador, he'd keep his promise. As long as they stayed in the Maze and as long as they were afraid and trapped and had no memories, he'd keep it. Minho kept his promises, and he didn't believe in leaving jobs half-done. The younger girl was under his care now, and he immediately adopted the feeling of an older sibling – caring and exasperated, though he'd never trade it for anything and wouldn't trust anyone else with the job.

Really, it was his fault for being a chickenshit. He didn't want to be alone just as much as he understood Hedy's insistence that Alice wasn't strong enough, wasn't fit enough, was too young and small and all of the reasons that made Alice the kind of person who needed to be coddled and protected instead of thrown into a strange, surreal mess that felt like an art show come to life or a science experiment or a reality TV show.

Craning his neck to see her jogging behind him, face fixed into a terrified pout, sweat dripping from her temple, Minho called for them to stop – quietly, still nervous that the next corner would hold danger.

"Saph was righter than we thought. Plain and simple, it's a fuc—shucking maze." He corrected himself, not knowing why he was so willing to go along with her stupid censorship. Probably to hear her giggle. He loved her laugh, surprised and squawky, cheerful in the otherwise shitty situation they'd landed in. Maybe the brotherly feelings weren't as new as he told himself, but to admit it would be too sappy to even conceive of.

Her eyes widened with fear, as if she hadn't figured it out herself, and immediately misunderstood his implication. "So we're… lost?"

Alice was a squeaker.

While he enjoyed her laughter, her terror grated on his nerves in a manner Saph would refer to as "unkind". Rolling his eyes, he spelled it out for her. "No, we aren't freakin' lost, because I'm not an idiot. But, just because I can get us back, doesn't mean we can get out of here. We have no idea how huge this place is, no compass, no maps, no nothing. I don't even know how quickly I can run a mile."

He didn't ask her if she had been keeping track of their location, if she was still terrified. Every answer he ever needed from her was written over her face, printed across her expression like a tattoo. There was no subtlety with Alice.

For the first time, he noticed her shaking.

She was always twitching, moving, never still. Blinking too much, jiggling her leg, folding her hands, twisting her fingers, twisting her expression, biting her lips or fingernails, bobbing her head. He had noticed it before, but now that there was no background, just Alice and ivy and stone for miles, partially hidden in the shadows, it was all the more prominent. He remembered the idea of crying, the movies and books he couldn't remember, the descriptions of bottom lips trembling with emotion. It seemed wrong, like anyone who'd ever thought that or written it or scripted it had never truly seen anyone crying with real fear. Alice's bottom lip was steady – it was her chin that shook, her jaw that chattered, so hard he could practically hear her teeth shattering, as if she were cold, even though they were sweaty and hot.

Minho was nervous, but Alice was about to klunk her pants. He could see it easily. Not just from the way she was twisting one leg around the other. Probably had forgotten to pee, too, and if he told her to just take a whizz here, she'd cry from embarrassment – no place to hide, and he would never wait around the corner for her to finish pissing. Too dangerous.

"Let's go back," he sighed, not even bothering to hide his reluctance. He wished he'd gone with Newt after all. Newt would share in his sudden depression, would know what he meant without his having to explain every detail. It made it harder, expressing it concisely. Vague euphemisms felt easier.

There was nothing. For however long, there could be more nothing. And with Alice, who forgot water, and was about to burst with the only fluids she had left in her, he couldn't explore it. He only hoped Newt and Hedy were doing better, and that maybe they'd find something – anything – that would help them figure out what the hell was happening.

x

"Shit, you're fast," Hedy wheezed, gulping down some of the water she'd packed. Leaning against the wall, she looked at Newt, who had a huge grin on his face.

"Feelin' a bit out of shape?"

"Stop gloating," she grouched.

Newt's hair, long and slicked back with its grease, shone all the more with his sweat. His expression was eager, excited, as if he'd been waiting for ages just to be able to move freely. In the Meadow, or the Glade, as Nick insisted it be called, he seemed as closed in as the walls. Claustrophobic. But out here, he seemed to stand at his full height, as if unafraid that he'd run out of room, as if he were free to stretch and grow.

Eyeing him, she measured him. His height seemed somehow imposing in a way it never had previously. He was the biggest person she could remember, tall and broad and muscular. While he looked great, ready to go on for miles, she felt like ass. Her shirt was stuck to her chest, which was covered in sweat. The muscles in her legs were throbbing, and her heart was thudding through her chest. Not in a healthy burn, but in a manner that made her feel as though her heart was being held in a chokehold.

"So what do you think?"

Enormous walls continued on forever. She estimated that they'd run nearly three miles, though she could be completely off. Early on, Newt had them break the rule of staying to the left, and they'd left a trail of vines to lead them back to the opening.

"Definitely a bloody maze," he cracked.

"I mean about being out here." Crossing her arms and glaring up at him, she waited for his answer.

Hedy was reasonable, as she'd discovered in her time in the Meadow. She could be swayed, be talked to, was willing to admit her wrongs. They were outside the Meadow, in the very place she had least wanted to go, and Alice was out there – and as far as she knew, there was nothing here but a maze.

"We should explore more, don't ya think?"

"We should head back, before the Walls close," she prepared to argue, but he shook his head wearily.

"No, I don't mean right buggin' now," he explained exasperatedly. "I'm answerin' your question. I meant, we keep comin' out here, mappin' the place. So we can figure out a way out."

Nodding appreciatively, she looked at him, trying to find holes in what he was saying. "How exactly do we map it, though? It's not like any of us are cartographers. Also, we need more paper and pens."

"We'll ask Savvy," he decided. "She's always the gal with a plan."

Raising a brow, Hedy felt a half a smile twisting on her lips. "Savvy?"

"She's damn smart. Smarter than any of us, even you, that's for sure. Allie, too, though you won't admit it."

"What? Alice can't do anything that isn't spelled out for her," Hedy contradicted.

"Scared witless, for sure, but has anyone here been as useful as her? 'Sides from Savvy. Always willing to work, up before anyone, tryin' her best."

A sudden wash of guilty flushed over her. All she'd done the night before was insult the girl. "She tries hard in everything she does," Hedy admitted, realizing it as she said it. "I guess everyone could take a leaf from her book."

"Good that," Newt said with satisfaction. "C'mon, you look a bloody mess, and I could use a good bathing m'self. My armpits stink worse than Nick's rotten feet."

"Gross," Hedy replied, with a small smile, and they followed their trail back. As they did though, a vague memory popped into her mind. Hansel and Gretel, following the trail of breadcrumbs.

x

Saph stood resolutely, waiting for the first sight of the others as they came through the Walls.

She was extremely patient. It was a trait she didn't expect to have. Though she and all the others were still unsure of themselves, feeling out their personalities, some things fell easily into place. Minho was a smartass. Alice was a worrier. Hedy was a stoic. Nick was also a stoic, but more of a grump. Newt was a diplomat.

As for her, she was a nurturer.

All of them acted on instinct, and that made everything about them much clumsier and much more genuine. Minho didn't quite know how to be serious, Alice didn't know how to play, Hedy was argumentative, Nick was easily irritated and unafraid of showing it, and Newt, whenever nobody was looking, went off by himself and sat, thinking, with a tired set to his shoulders and a hung neck. They were as naïve as children, able to process their situation but forgetting their table manners or easy modes of conversation. There were strange silences, brooding nights, angry days – and Saph did her best to calm those times, to add routine and ease. With Tim, it was too earlier to guess at anything but his shyness, and even that could just be his newness, his fear.

It begged the question – were they the same as they had been before? Was personality intrinsic? Was Saph really a cranky control freak and was Nick really a carefree social butterfly? Were their personalities before, if they were different, their true selves, or were the personas they'd developed here who they truly were. Fluidity was everything, Saph decided, and all change, if not good, was needed to keep the world turning. Chaos meant there'd be order, somewhere, and even if everything felt chaotic and strange now, they could manage to create order out of that.

Another thing - she didn't remember learning to cook. She didn't know how she knew that foods with vitamin C went best with foods that contained iron. For the life of her, she didn't know how she managed to handle a knife so well, or how to turn a few piece-of-klunk ingredients into a fully-fledged meal, to keep them all from becoming malnourished and dying of anemia before they even knew why in the world they'd been sent to such a beautiful hell.

Slowly, though, her magic was working, no matter if it were black or white. Alice's anxiety wasn't as severe as it had been the first three weeks. Minho had begun to thicken, his skinny limbs and short body growing more fully into his wide frame, bones slowly becoming saturated with fat and muscle. The circles beneath Nick's eyes had begun to ease. Newt's hair shone – not just from the oils, but with health, no longer limp and straw-like – and she saw Hedy slowly beginning to eat more and more, as if she was gaining the girl's trust, as if Hedy no longer expected to be poisoned or to find the food disgusting.

She didn't know what had happened before. Really, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know. But standing alone with Tim digging in the garden, Nick cleaning up animal klunk for the slowly growing garden, and the others running around in the Maze, putting all of her accomplishments into words still didn't help her feeling of utter uselessness.

x

"It's a maze," Newt affirmed.

They'd always spoken of outside the Walls like some sort of anomaly – which it was – but to have answers, even such a small, basic one, felt comforting.

The four runners were gulping down a thin soup Saph had made, relishing in the flavors of the tiny carrots Nick and Hedy and Tim had harvested earlier.

Hedy wolfed down the soup, drinking it and finishing before anyone else. Tim and Nick stood a few feet away – they'd already eaten.

"What's it like?" Tim asked, eyes wide.

"Dead bodies, treasure chests, hot mermaid chicks, the usual." Minho said offhandedly, chugging more water.

Saph cackled and poured them all a second serving, sniggering to Minho about how he should've lured them back for 'dinner and a show', but Nick was serious.

"Tell me what you saw."

"A fucking labyrinth," Hedy answered witheringly. At Alice's glare, she amended: "…Shucking maze." It fit. A shuck. A husk of a thing. Devoid of meaning, until they could figure it out.

"Well, what else other than that?" Saph asked, scraping the pot to pour the final bits into Tim's bowl. "Anything else?"

"I think we should start mapping it," Newt said, leaning back.

Immediately, Minho latched onto the idea. "Hell – shuck yeah?" He tried, for Alice, who giggled.

"Good that," Nick said impatiently. "But give us some freaking—"

"The walls stay the same height," Hedy interrupted. "It's a maze, with ivy growing everywhere. Every place we saw today looked the same, and we ran at least five miles today. Speaking of which, there's no way I'm walking at all tomorrow. We need new shoes. My blisters have callouses."

As if they needed proof, she held up the old tennis shoes she'd worn – the sole was nearly flapping off.

"Why don't we send a note down the Box?" Minho asked smugly, and she sucked her teeth at him.

"Why don't you stop rubbing that in my face every two seconds?" she asked, irritated. "Anyway," she turned towards Saph, Tim, and Nick, turning her back from Minho and Alice and Newt. "Newt thinks if we map the place out, we can escape."

"Maybe," he cautioned evenly from behind her. "Let's not be gettin' ahead of ourselves."

"Well, if it's a maze, that means there's a way out," Minho reasoned. "So we're not getting ahead of anything."

"We'll find it!" Alice declared. Then she turned to Minho. "I promise not to do so badly next time, either!"

A high pitch shriek followed her statement, as Minho gripped her around the shoulders and rubbed a noogie into her scalp.

"That actually feels kind of good," she said when he finished. "A bit like a backrub, only on your head."

"Need one?" Saph asked lewdly, winking at her. "I've got magic fingers. You seen what I can do to a bit of salad, imagine what I could—"

"Ew," Nick scowled, holding up a hand. "None of that pervy shit, either of you." He pointed at Minho, for good measure.

Hedy smiled at their mirroring expressions of mock offense and shock.

"How dare you—"

"Calling me a perv—"

"Ain't like it innit true, though," Saph turned to Minho.

"Maybe about you—"

"If it's about me, then you're in too – just ask Gorgeous."

"I'm right here, ask away—" Minho preened.

Newt burst out laughing at their antics, joining in with Alice's high-pitched giggle. Nick and Tim remained self-contained, though both looked amused. While Nick's reticence was to keep from encouraging them, Tim's was insecurity. He didn't quite feel like one of them yet. Laughing along with strangers is often difficult, Hedy knew.

"C'mon, lemme show you something I did the other day!" Minho said suddenly, loud voice breaking through the cheer, excited with the sudden urgency of memory.

Nick looked up. "Whadja do?" he looked suspicious. "No games, Minho, or I'll noogie you bald."

"I wanna see!" Alice complained. "What is it?"

"It's over here, c'mon," he said, standing and stretching. A few bones cracked when he did so, and Hedy winced.

"Gross."

"You think everything is gross, so slim it."

The seven of them trooped over to the Wall with him, in the open section across from their tiny, pitiful 'pasture'. It was the most open expanse of land they had in the Meadow, but the least used. It seemed sort of barren. They stopped at the wall, and they all stared as Minho proudly posed next to his creation.

"Bloody hell," Newt began to chuckle, massaging a hand over his mouth to hide his enormous grin.

"What the hell is that catastrophe." Hedy blinked at the letters.

MINHO, written crookedly in enormous print, ate up the wall.

"I think it's a great idea!" Saph decided, clapping. "All of us should write it. Tim, you do your name too."

She took the tools from Minho, but the S and the P gave her difficulty. The end result wasn't quite as bad as Minho's, though, and they all took turns.

Minho's name was nearly three feet long, with awkward spacing. Saph's was nearly as big, right below his. Nick had sized his more appropriately right next to Saph's, with Newt's the highest and Alice's parallel from his, since she insisted Newt do it for her. Tim's was angled oddly downwards, the letters falling, almost like a crossword puzzle. Hedy had chosen to write her name inside of Minho's giant O. Otherwise, it'd be too far away and look out of place from the next boxes of the other names, and she didn't want to symbolically separate herself from them. Or was that too sensitive?

Minho sent her a sidelong glance. "Ruining my masterpiece?"

"If you hadn't taken up so much, room, I wouldn't have had to," She shot back, quirking a grin up at him. "Besides, it's cute. We're all friends, here."

It was Alice who voiced what they were all wondering. "Do you think someone else will come up in the Box?"

Tim, who had just as much memory as they did when they'd woken up, shrugged. They'd discussed this before, but thinking about additions to their mural made it feel more real and pressing.

It was Nick who said it. "I'm guessing yeah… and I have a theory."

Unlike Minho's theories, she generally agreed with Nick. His thoughts tended to be less radical. So she listened, waiting as he hesitated.

"I think, since there's an uneven amount of guys and girls, that the next stringbean—"

"Greenbean," Saph corrected in mock offense. "If ya gotta mimic good slang, make sure you do it properly."

"That the next Greenie is gonna be a chick."

There was a beat of silence, until Saph grinned salaciously. "Excellent."

"None of that pervy klunk," Minho mocked.

"So throw me in the pit," Saph answered with a wink. "Can't help it, the ladies love me and I love the ladies—"

"I s'pose we'll just have to see?" Tim offered nervously.

"Good idea!" Alice smiled radiantly at him.

"I'm going to bed," Nick asked, suddenly sounding irritated by the conversation. They all ignored him – it was second nature to them now. His mood swings were often unprecedented – or at least, as far as the rest of them knew, they were. He did not share what he thought very often, and they did not understand what he was feeling. Most emotions passed beneath the surface, his expression remaining cool and implacable.

Eventually, they all followed his lead and went to bed. And they woke up, and they worked. Oftentimes, they ran. Mostly, they waited, lulled into a sense of security. Mostly Minho and Newt went out, alone, and sometimes Hedy did too. Rarely did Alice go out – Minho wanted her to get stronger first, and Hedy wanted her to become more sensible.

The routine continued for weeks, but it was a sort of waiting game. Trapped in limbo until the new month came, with a new Box and a new Greenbean.

Tim discovered his personality, bit by bit. He remained quiet and hardworking, both traits that were highly appreciated, but had joined in on Saph's musical talent. He whistled, often. He whistled while gardening - it was what he was good at, always offering special tips or sudden ideas on how to make their crops grow larger or more plentiful, and a blessing both to their bellies and to their minds - he whistled while cleaning or washing, and he whistled when he 'klunked' as Minho and Alice insisted it was now called.

The Meadow was rarely silent anymore.

"Nobody in this Glade ever gets any sleep, thanks to the two of you," Nick said rudely, once, but Saph had only begun to yell random syllables, a doremifasollati. A speedy return to humming was made after he apologized, first to Tim, who was still a little intimidated by all of them but Saph and Alice.

And out of the Box, at the end of the long month, was a confused and terrified greenie, who called herself Meg.

Meg is named after Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood Federation of America.