Disclaimer: I do not own the Maze Runner Trilogy.
Thomas looked dazed, bags under his eyes, pieces of his hair sticking up every-which way.
"Um, I-I have to go." He stuttered, looking at the Lynn, Minho, and Newt before scampering off to God knows where.
"Where do think he's goin'?" Newt asked, crossing his one free arm.
"No idea," Lynn said, shaking her head.
"Newt!" The three turned towards the Map Room to see Winston running in their direction.
"What?"
"It's Alby," The Slicer panted as he stopped in front of them. "We found him unconcious in the Map Room."
Newt's eyes widened, favoring his bad leg, he ran over to the Map Room. Minho and Lynn following close behind him. They pushed their way through the crowd gathered in and around the Map Room. There Alby lay, in the center of the room. Blood pouring from a wound in the side of his head. Newt was kneeling down next to him, grabbing a towel from some boy Lynn didn't know.
She took in the surroundings as her and Minho stood behind a few other boys. The walls were charred, the wood covered in ash. The door was hanging off of its hinges, that was burnt too. The map trunks were indeed damaged, probably beyond repair. Lynn knew the Maps were safe, tucked away in the supply closet in the Homestead, but to think someone did this. Wanting to burn the only chance and hope of all of them getting out of the hell hole they were in. Who would do such a thing?
"Does anyone know who did this?" Minho questioned, looking at everyone in the room. All the Gladers kept quiet, silently shaking their heads. Lynn felt a hand on her right shoulder. Wincing in pain, she looked to her right to see Thomas standing next to her with a confused look on his face.
"Where'd ya go?" Thomas looked over to the blonde, who had her arms crossed.
"I just-um, needed a minute. What happened?"
Minho leaned forward from his spot beside Lynn and looked at Thomas with his forehead creased in anger, "Our Map Room was set on fire and you ran off because you 'needed a minute.' What's wrong with you?"
"I didn't think it mattered anymore." Thomas stammered, "if you haven't figured out the Maps now..."
"Yeah, this'd be a great freaking time to give up. What the-"
"Minho," Lynn said in a calming tone.
"I'm sorry," Thomas said quickly, "just tell me what happened."" He leaned over a boy in front of him, getting a closer look. He turned back to Lynn and Minho and repeated his question.
"Winston found him here." Lynn answered before Minho could open his mouth. "half dead. All those trunks are burned to a bloody crisp. It seemed as if someone smashed his head on that table over there." She motioned to a table in the corner that had blood covering one of the corners. "It's freakin' nasty."
"Who do you think did it?" Thomas asked hesitantly.
"Maybe Gally," Minho suggested. "Before he showed up in the Homestead and went psycho? Maybe the Greivers? I don't know, and I don't care. Doesn't matter."
"Now who's the one giving up?" Sarcasm lacing Thomas' voice. Minho's head snapped up so quickly, Thomas took a step backward, slightly hiding behind Lynn. Noticing his anger, Lynn intertwined her fingers with Minho's. The sudden movement calmed him, his shoulders relaxing as he began to speak. "That's not what I meant, shank."
Thomas narrowed his eyes in curiosity. "What did-"
"Just shut your hole, stick." Lynn said, covering Thomas' mouth with her hand. "You'll find out soon enough."
"Minho, Lynn, I need to tell you two and Newt something. Like now, right now. In private." Thomas said, a serious look spread across his face.
"Tommy, what is it n-"
"Just give me a minute, I have an idea. Maybe it'll still work if enough Runners still remember the maps." This had gained both Lynn and Minho's attention.
"An idea? What?" Minho asked.
"I need to talk to all three of you outside, in private. You, Lynn, and Newt."
Minho thought for a second, "Newt!" he called.
"Yeah?" Newt stood up, refolding the piece of Lynn's hoodie that he was holding up to his head. She couldn't help but notice every inch of the cloth was now covered with blood. His blood.
Minho pointed down to Alby, "Let the Med-Jacks take care of him, we need to talk."
Her brother gave them a puzzling look, then handed the rag Newt was using for Alby to another Glader. "Go find Clint," said he, "Tell him we got worse porblems than guys with buggin' splinters." The kid nodded and scurried away, Newt stepped away from Alby's unconcious body and towards Lynn, Minho, and Thomas. "Talk about what?"
Minho motioned towards Thomas with his head, but didn't say a word.
Thomas said, "Just come with me."
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Next thing the knew, all four of them were gathered out in the forest. Lynn, stood in between Newt and Minho. Her back resting against the harsh and bumpy bark of the tree behind her.
"All right, talk." Minho said, crossing his arms. "What's so important?"
"Okay," Thomas muttered. "When I first came here, I had these...dreams. They were memories, there was the girl. She kept telling me the Maze was a code. That maybe instead of solving it to try and find a way out, it's trying to send a message to us."
"What?" Minho exclaimed, "You're telling us, that there's a friggin' mystery girl in your dreams, telling you the Maze is a code? How is it a code?"
Thomas vigorously shook his head, "I don't know for sure, you all are way more familiar with the Maps than I am. But I have a theory. That's why I was hoping you guys could remember some of them."
Lynn glanced at Newt, her eyebrows raised.
"What?" Thomas asked, sounding irritated. "You guys are acting like your keeping a secret."
Lynn ran a hand over her face, "We hid the Maps Tommy." she sighed.
"Huh?"
Newt pointed to the Homestead, "We hid the buggin' Maps in the closet, put dummies in their place. 'Cause of Alby's warning."
"They're all safe and sound," Lynn added. "Every last one of'em. So if ya got a theory, spit it out Tommy."
"Take me to them." Thomas demanded, a tiny smile on his face.
"Okay, let's go."
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Minho switched the light on, making everyone squint as they entered the room. Weapons and other menacing looking tools spread around the room, in boxes, hanging on the wall.
"There's a hidden storage closet back here." Minho said, walking towards the back of the small room. "Only a couple of us about it."
The old wooden door creaked open as Minho pushed it open. He dragged a wooden crate out from the room, making a shuddering screeching noise on the floor.
"I put each trunk's worth in its own box, eight boxes total. They're all in there."
Thomas knelt down next to the crate, examining the papers inside. "Which one is this?" he asked.
"Just open it and see-each page marked. Remember?"
Thomas nodded his head, reaching in and pulling out a stack of Maps. "Okay." Thomas said, "The Runners have compared these day to day, looking to see if there was a pattern that would help them find a way out of here. You even said you didn't really know what you were looking for, but you keep studying them anyway. Right?"
Minho nodded, Newt and Lynn standing in the back watching what was going on in front of them.
"Well," Thomas continued, "what if all the wall movements had something to do with a map or a maze or anything like that. What if instead the words? Some kind of clue that'll help us escape."
Minho pointed a finger at the stack of papers in Thomas' hand, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. "Dude, you have any idea how much we've studied these things? Do you think we would've noticed if it were spelling out freaking words?!"
"Maybe it's too hard to see with the naked eye, just comparing one day to the next. And maybe you weren't supposed to compare to the next, but look at one day at a time."
Newt let out a laugh from his spot beside Lynn, who was trying to absorb all this information. "Tommy," Newt began, "I might not be the sharpest guy in the Glade, but it sounds like you're talkin' straight out of your butt to me."
"Okay, okay," Thomas said, rubbing his forehead. "You've always had one Runner assigned to one section, right?"
"Right," Minho replied.
"And that Runner makes a Map every day, and then compares it to Maps from previous days, for that section. What if, instead, you were supposed to compare the eight sections to each other, every day? Each day being a seperate clue or code? Did you ever sections to other sections? Lynn? Minho?"
"Never even thought of it," Lynn sighed. "I've only had my Runners compare the same sections they ran. Not doing some little trading card session."
"We have tried to see if they made something when you put them together." Minho said, "Of course we did that, we tried everything."
After a few moments of silence, Thomas looked up at the three people surrounding him.
"Wax paper." Said he.
"What?!" Lynn exclaimed, "What do you need bloody wax paper for?"
"Just trust me. We need wax paper and scissors. And every black marker and pencil you can find."
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Let's just say, Frypan wasn't too happy about Lynn taking a whole box of wax paper away. He argued with the girl for about ten minutes before finally giving in, after she gave him the puppy dog eyes, of course.
After that, it was another ten minutes of Lynn, Minho, and Newt hunting down everysingle pencil and pen in the Glade. Thomas now sat, with the two Runners and the second command, at the worktable in the weapons basement.
"This better be good." Minho said from his place next to Lynn. Newt leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.
"Get on with it, Greenie."
"Right," Thomas murmured, he handed a sharp knife to Minho (because they couldn't find any scissors.) and pointed to the wax paper. "Start cutting rectangles, about the size of the Maps. Newt and Lynn, you can help me grab the first ten or so Maps from each section box."
"What is this, kiddie craft time?" Minho held the knife up in disgust. "Why don't you just tell me what the klunk we're doing this for?"
"I'm done explaining," Thomas answered. "It'll be easier to show you. If I'm wrong, I'm wrong, and we can go back to running around the Maze like mice."
After a few minutes, Minho had already cut twenty pieces of wax paper. Thomas grabbed two papers and took a nearby marker.
"All right, everybody trace the last ten or so days ontto a piece of this stuff. Make sure you write the info on the top so we can keep track of what's what. When we're done, I think we might see something."
"What-" Minho started to say.
"Just keep bloody cutting," Newt said, sternly. "I think I know where he is going with this."
They got to work, tracing from the original Maps to the wax paper, map by map. Lynn bit her lip in concentration, trying to keep her hand steady as she moved her marker up and down the paper, kinda of like a five-year-old focusing hard on a drawing. Lynn was starting to get bored, nothing was coming up on the paper. No words, no letters, nothing.
"I've had enough," she announced, "My fingers are about to fall off. See if it's working."
Thomas looked up from his wax paper, putting his marker down. Collecting all the papers he, Lynn, and Newt were working on, he laid them out infront of him. Thomas rearranged them every now and then, taking long, hard glances at the papers before him. Until, after rearranging them one last time, they had finally found something.
Sitting in the center of the page, was a F.
Hey Humans! I would like to thank NexyVsBlacky, , Newtie, and Hellokitty214 for following the story! Also, to sophiealison1998 for favoriting the story!
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-Broadwaykid1832