Five : Peace
Newt POV
"The lounge is down the hall and to the right. Several bedrooms are connected to it." Minho said after a few minutes of scouring the control room. Thomas nodded and rubbed his eyes with one hand, but didn't move. I sat in one of the swivel chairs, exhaustion fogging my mind. We hadn't slept properly in at least a couple days, almost three. We hadn't even had a proper meal in that time, just scraps here and there to keep going. With all the chaos of the box, note, maze collapse, and running from grievers, I didn't know how much longer I could keep going. We needed sleep, we needed food, everything else could wait.
"Can we please find the cafeteria first?" I sighed, leaning forward onto my knees. My stomach was wringing itself into a tight ball of fire, angry at being ignored for so long. "I'm going to eat one of you if we don't."
"They have one." Minho glanced up at me, his face showing he understood my pain. "It's just down the hall."
"Since when did you know the entire layout of this buggin' place?"
"Since when did you forget how to read? The signs in every hallway?"
"Guys, please." Thomas sighed. I pulled my glare away from Minho to glance over at him. "We're exhausted, starving, and cold. Now's not the time to be fighting." He stood and slowly made his way to the door. He opened it and gestured wearily out to the hallway. "After you, Keeper of WICKED." Minho smirked and strode out the door.
The cafeteria looked like any plain cafeteria from my foggy memories. White walls, rows of tables and chairs, and the empty food line. But it was all dimly lit by the failing, flickering lights overhead. We carefully walked into the large space, ears pricked for any grievers. It was deserted, and I had a hunch that the monsters still retired to wherever they usually went during the day. I glanced down at my watch; 05:56.
"I really hope the food hasn't gone bad." Minho whispered as he walked between tables. Thomas followed while I brought up the rear. My stomach twisted painfully, growling horribly. I glanced around at the emergency lights. It could be that whatever fridges they had in this place were shot. But there were always nonperishables, like canned food and dry goods.
"We'll be okay." Thomas pushed on, undeterred. He moved past Minho and ducked behind the food line, aiming straight for the large kitchen.
…
"Damnit." Thomas muttered under his breath as he pulled open the last industrial fridge. Every single one of the 4 had been room temperature, everything inside thawed and spoiled. Minho shook his head and moved to one of the overhead pantries.
"We'll find something. Ramen, canned food, peanut butter, energy bars…" He trailed off as he pulled out a can of ravioli, slamming it on the table and smirking over at us. I rolled my eyes and walked to the cupboards across the kitchen.
After nearly half an hour of searching, we had scraped up a decent stockpile. Three cans of ravioli, 5 packs of dry ramen, a couple bags of stale tortilla chips, 5 pounds of dry white rice, 2 cans of tuna, and a bag of dried cranberries.
"I guess the microwave is shot?" Minho reached over and yanked open the door of the little red box. Completely dead. "No biggie," He slammed it shut. "Cold ravioli is better than no ravioli." Thomas was already shoving as much of the food as he could into his backpack.
"Help me carry this, we need to find those bedrooms and lounge." He grunted as he hoisted his bulging bag onto one shoulder. Minho grabbed the rice and chips, leaving me with the cranberries. I gestured for him to lead the way.
As I had thought, we didn't see any more grievers along the way. I was beyond thankful. I doubted I could make another death defying sprint like we'd done hours earlier. Thomas pushed the lounge door open slowly and found it completely pitch black.
"Find the light," He whispered and I reached out along the wall until I felt the tiny switch. Two of the seven overhead lights flicked on. I let out a sigh of relief as I saw it was empty. We hurried inside and Thomas shut and locked the door behind us. He dropped the backpack in one of the 4 armchairs as Minho ran to another door in the right wall. Next door was two bedrooms, each with 4 bunk beds. Blankets and pillows lined each.
"We hit the jackpot!" Minho shouted excitedly. He pulled the blankets off of one bed and dragged the entire mattress off, pushing it past me into the lounge. "Grab another, there's no way I'm sleeping in some tiny, closed off room alone." Thomas brushed past me to grab a mattress of his own.
Lining three mattresses in the far left corner of the room was easy enough. We had thrown every blanket and pillow we could find on top, effectively making a nest. Now we were rummaging through the wardrobes of both bedrooms, searching for warmer clothes. A new pair of jeans, a long sleeve gray shirt, and a fluffy collar jacket were tucked away deep, but I pulled them out. Minho and Thomas had each found new jeans as well, new shirts, and two identical black coats.
"Damn, I wish I had gotten that." Minho breathed as he eyed my jacket.
"Let's eat, then we need to get some sleep." Thomas called from the lounge.
The room felt oddly cozy now, with the dim lighting and warm clothes. Thomas had divided up the cans of ravioli and the chips as he sat in one of the armchairs. I sat in the one next to him and popped the can of ravioli open. Cold or not, I immediately began wolfing it down. Minho had taken the armchair on Thomas' other side and was tearing into his chips.
"What a night." Thomas breathed 20 minutes later. We lay out on the armchairs while Minho laid out on the bed. From the sounds of it, the runner had already crashed. My head leaned against the wall, my arms folded over my full stomach.
"It's barely 7 in the morning." I sighed, glancing over at him. He shrugged, too tired to care.
"Fairbanks…" He whispered and met my gaze. "In winter. I don't even know if these coats are enough."
"We'll take more." I grunted as I sat up, making my way over to the bed pile. I didn't even care about the dim lights at this point. Thomas got up as well and flopped down onto the beds, rolling over so his back leaned into the corner. I took the middle, pulling the blankets aside and laying down with a pained groan. A bed, with blankets and pillows. What a change.
"Just sleep for now, we'll wake up when we wake up." Thomas yawned and pulled a blanket over his head. I rolled over onto my side and did the same, blocking out the chilled air. Minho hadn't moved an inch, the guy was completely knocked out. I took in a deep breath and let it out, finally allowing my system to relax and sleep.