Let's split up, gang!

Or

The Maze Runners

It quickly became apparent to Miguel that the design of the maze had changed.

There were turns that he was sure hadn't been there before, and in places the ground rose and dipped anew, sometimes rising up into giant hills or fell into trenches.

It's almost like when we reached the center of the maze, the rest of it switched itself around.

He wondered if the possibility was all that surprising to him. It wasn't.*

The three kids scrambled up one of the hills of bones; as they headed back downward, Lupe suddenly lost her footing and nearly face-planted into a cluster of skulls before Miguel managed to catch her. As he jerked her back upright, a strained cry slipped out from her clenched teeth. He started to pause, to make sure she was okay, but she said quickly, "I'm fine!"

Now the roaring of El Silbón was coming up the hill, and when Miguel looked over his shoulder he could see clearly that the strange magic which affected their pursuer's whistling didn't apply to any other vocal sounds he might make, because yes, the tall skeleton was right on their heels, rage and hunger flashing in his golden eyes.

They went stumbling and sliding through the bones, only to find two different paths waiting for them.

They were equally dark and shadowy, positioned at what looked like equal angles to each other, without any helpful musical motifs playing to indicate if one was safe or not.** So for a second all they could do was stand there and stare at them. Unfortunately they didn't have the leisure to decide which path to take in a calm and rational manner. As the roaring of El Silbón came thundering towards them, clearly hungry for their blood, Miguel and Lupe ran into the left tunnel. And for the first time in this adventure, they both made the mistake of not checking to make sure that Alejandro was behind them.

It barely occurred to Miguel that it was hopeless to keep running, since there was nowhere to safely run to and sooner or later this monster was going to catch them. His instincts were currently on the same level of coherent thought as a frightened rabbit, which can only run and dodge and weave until it can find somewhere to hide.***

There was a corner up ahead; he and Lupe raced towards it. They were twenty feet away...fifteen...ten-

At nine feet, the ground crumbled beneath them.

Not again!

It was a ridiculous thought to have, Miguel knew, even as he was falling. And at least this time he didn't have quite as far to fall as with the cenote, and definitely not as far as that building. But the bottom still dropped out of his stomach, and besides, unexpectedly falling is rarely fun unless you're on a roller coaster or something.

His scream and Lupe's joined in cacophonic chorus, their limbs flailing helplessly in the air for a second until the hit the new level of ground with a crunch.

Like I said, it wasn't as far as it had been with the other times Miguel had been thrown from high places; probably not more than nine feet. But as they landed, he either heard or felt, he wasn't quite sure which, something pop in his right ankle, followed seconds later by the sharpest pain he could ever remember experiencing in his life.

Miguel managed to curl himself into a ball, wrapping both hands around his ankle and hissing through his teeth, temporarily incapable of anything else. Next to him he could hear Lupe give a small, pained groan, and then sit up, her tiny body shadowy in the bluish light.****

After a minute the initial shock of pain changed into a semi-endurable dull throb, and Miguel pulled himself up too, but still gripping his ankle with one hand. He looked up anxiously at the lip of the hole they'd fallen into, expecting to see El Silbón about to start climbing down to his prey.

But there was no sign of the monster. Looking back at his companions-no, he realized, companion. And his stomach lurched.

"Where's Alejandro?"

And then, coming closer and closer to them, they could make out the sound of El Silbón whistling again, which meant he was back on the hunt.

He must have taken the other path. D_os mio.

Lupe let out a horrified gasp, and leaped up, her legs buckling under her a little but rushing frantically to one of the sides of the hole.

"This was your fault!" she snapped, whirling around on Miguel. "You led us to the middle!"

"I didn't hear you offering any better suggestions!" Miguel shot back. "It's not like I knew we couldn't get out that way!"

He knew what Abuelita would tell him; not to be so hard on her, that she was terrified for her brother and taking it out on him, be nice to her since she was so much younger than him. At this moment, Miguel could not have cared less.

For a moment they stayed where they were, glaring at each other as best they could when they could barely see. Then, with a sigh, Miguel stood up-and immediately had to sit down again when he tried to put his weight on his ankle.

"What's the matter?" Lupe came back to him.

"I think I might have broken something."

What sounded suspiciously like a hiss of sympathy escaped her teeth.

All Miguel said was, "You go find your brother, see if you can-save him. I'll wait here."

"...You're muy loco if you think I can rescue him by myself."

Miguel shrugged. "You got El Silbón in a surprise attack once. I believe in you." Then he began peeling off his shoes and socks.

"Ugh, what are you doing?!" she demanded. He could tell by how nasal she had become that she was pinching her nose, and rolled his eyes a little despite the tenseness of the situation.

"It'll be easier for you to move around if you're not barefoot. They'll be kind of big, but hopefully if you pull the laces tight enough they'll stay on."

"I don't wanna wear anything that's been around your stinky boy-feet," she muttered. But she did put them on, seeming resigned to her new role as brother-savior. Miguel suspected that she'd hurt her own feet with all this running around on bones, so it was the least he could do. Even if it probably meant his socks were going to be all bloody and gross.

Then he handed her his backpack. "There's some stuff in here that might help."

Feeling around inside, Lupe found the matches. "Cool! Tía Dolores never lets us near these." Then, unexpectedly, she ripped off one of her already-torn pajama legs, and he could make out her wrapping it around the top of her femur club.

"...What are you doing?"

"Making a torch. I saw it work in a movie once."

Lupe straightened up, and then suddenly handed Miguel some of the matches.

"Just in case."

"Gracias." He tucked them into the pocket of his hoodie, then watched as Lupe swung the backpack over her shoulders, tucking her makeshift torch into it for the time being, and then approached the bony wall again.

The trepidation she must have felt about heights was currently dwarfed by comparison of her instinctive need to look after her brother; with only a moment's hesitation she started climbing, pulling herself along until she reached the top of the hole and scrambled up over it.

"We'll come find you afterwards!" she called down. "I promise!"

Then she was gone, leaving Miguel alone in the dark.

*By now, he was beginning to think that nothing in this place could surprise him anymore. Which, obviously, was tempting fate in a big way.

**Sadly, in real life this is often the case.

***At least they weren't the instincts of a terrified rabbit, because then he'd probably be frozen in place until El Silbón caught him.

****At some point they had dropped the flashlight, and who knew where it was now.

If anyone can guess which movie Lupe is talking about, you get a metaphorical medal.

...Which, I guess, isn't a lot of motivation. But still. It's a very shiny metaphorical medal.

With a star on it.

And a ribbon.