"You go left, Alby and I'll go right." Minho and Alby were leaning over the map, analysing, speculating. It had taken a moment, comparing with her own sketch of the map, but Tasha had pointed out where Ben had gotten stung and they were trying to work out the quickest route to that place, and had aided in the planning of the best route to that spot. However, it didn't answer Tasha's most pressing question.
"Why me?" She was certainly not the best choice to go running, especially if it was only the three of them running that day. Her near-collapse the day before, coupled with her intense attachment to her fellow Runners should put her way down the list. Minho frowned at her, as if he was trying to figure out what was happening in Tasha's head.
"You've gone with me when looking for lost Runners before." Minho told her. Tasha nodded, suddenly understanding, it was not her limited but intense loyalty that drew her to these projects, but her ability to push all feeling from her mind and focus on her task at hand. Her eyes darted to their leader, who had watched the exchange with interest.
"Why Alby?" She flinched internally at her own blunt approach, but it didn't seem to phase Minho or Alby, who drew his attention away from the girl to the equipment against the wall.
"Everything's changing." Alby's voice was dark, and he didn't give any further explanation, but he handed Tasha a pack over the dimly lit map, along with a notepad and water bottle. Tasha took them, nodding and pulling the pack over her head. "Are you OK with this?" Alby asked. Tasha looked at him, steeling herself and nodding quickly. "Good. Let's go." He grabbed a pack for himself and Minho, before heading out of the map room and over to the doors.
What Tasha wasn't expecting was Newt, standing by the Maze doors, face scrunched up as he looked into the Maze, as if willing for Ben, gasping, sweating and terrified, to come around a corner, covered in blood and bruises. However he didn't, and Tasha just felt rather cold. The three boys gathered together, chattering softly about the events of the previous night, before Newt nodded to them and they headed into the maze. His attention turned to Tasha once the other two had rounded the corner.
"You alright, Tash?" He asked, arms crossed over his chest. Tasha nodded once and Newt huffed out a laugh at her automatic response. Tasha let out a small smile, letting herself relax slightly, no, she was not alright, but when was she ever? He rubbed her shoulder in a comforting gesture for a moment, before looking out at the maze. "Good luck." He told her, letting his hand drop, to which she nodded once more and took off into the maze. All emotions were cleared from her head, her only goal being to map the maze as she always did. Alby and Minho were the ones looking to trace Ben's path, not her. She felt safe in that knowledge. Less safe in the knowledge that she might come across the mangled remains of her former runner, but she could easily sidestep that in her current frame of mind.
The maze was endless, and just the same as yesterday, just the same as every other day. There was no way out.
So she ran.
She liked running on her own, there was a sense of isolation that nowhere else could replicate, a deafening silence that she could feel in her bones. It was like she had said to Thomas, running was easy, but it came with a price. There was always the lingering doubt in the back of her mind, the constant overwhelming fear of repetition, but the overpowering need to run, to search, to hope, that overrode everything else.
She had explained it once to Chuck when he had asked, when he first got into the maze and didn't avoid her like most of the others.
"I don't run because Alby's right or because I think there's a way out.." She told him as they walked side by side, her voice was quiet and she was carefully looking over her map for any errors she may have made. Chuck, who had been bringing supplies to the map room, looked up in surprise and Tasha's gaze rose to meet his. "I run because I believe WCKD is wrong and I need to stop them." Chuck seemed confused, but didn't ask any more questions Tasha went back to her map.
Her legs ached as she came to a stop for her lunch break, fingers curling around her knife to cut down a vine to mark her spot. She slumped down with a groan, back against the wall, stretching her legs out in front of her. She pulled off her pack and searched for her sandwich, which she began devouring hungrily. She savoured the taste of jam on her tongue before she checked over her notes, chewing on the last bite and idly pulling out a water bottle to take a long sip.
A moment of silence, like the breath before a sneeze, a thick tension hovering in the air, was broken by a tremendous thump from above her head and Tasha jumped to her feet, notebook skittering across to the other wall. Tasha's gaze shot to the sky and she felt her blood run cold. Grey clouds loomed overhead, hanging heavy in the sky, rolling quickly and buzzing with energy. There was a loud crack and a bolt of lightning shot from above, making Tasha's heart thunder and snap her from her frozen state.
"This isn't meant to happen!" She hissed, eyes wide, gathering her things and stuffing them into her pack haphazardly, cutting her run short for the day. It never rained in the Glade, there was nothing but blue, cloudless sky and a sun that never shone. "Shit!" She spat as she awkwardly tried to put her pack back on and run back the way she came.
One thought pervaded her mind as she ran, the thought that she had to get out of this maze, that she had to get back to the Glade. This wasn't normal, this wasn't meant to happen! Instead of the swift jog that Runners could keep up for hours on end, Tasha, fuelled by adrenaline and fear, bolted through the entire maze, the sounds of thunder echoing painfully in her ears. A dreadful thunderclap almost half an hour into her run brought with it a wave of freezing cold rain falling from the sky. Tasha felt herself stumble and almost slip, but she didn't slip, couldn't fall, not now. She ran faster, if possible, slamming into walls as she turned, rain slick paths causing her to skid and overshoot her mark. She pushed her fear down, feeling the exhaustion in her legs and chest, the aching of her ribs, the wet slap of her shoes against the concrete and the pounding of the rain echoing through the maze.
She let out a gasp, seeing the opening to the Glade ahead, the wide expanse of damp, green grass and the rain-soaked homestead in the distance. Her eyes went wide and she put on a burst of speed, all her fear and excitement bubbling over the top and she lurched forward once she hit the grass. It took her a split second to realised she had overbalanced in the rain, and went tumbling forwards, crashing into mud where there was normally hard Earth, landing with a splat and feeling soft mud beneath her body. Her limbs were splayed out around her and her nose ached from being squished into the ground, but she seemed alright physically.
It took her a moment, to struggle to a sitting position. From their ineffective shelter in the homestead, she saw the other Gladers looking on with worried expressions. There's another thunderclap from the sky, and Tasha jumped to her feet, running the last few hundred yards covered in mud to the safety of shelter. Newt quickly caught her hand and dragged her over to where he and Thomas were camped, looking out at the maze doors.
"What happened in there?" Asked Newt, quietly. Tasha frowned, looking up at the thatched ceiling. Newt's concern deepened. "Well what about Alby and Minho, are they-?"
"They're not back?" Tasha's eyes darted back to the maze, as did her footsteps, but Newt yanked on her arm and brought her back. He looked as if he was emotionally compromised, between laughter and concern. Tasha was simply confused and worried.
"They'll come back, alright? You sure nothing strange happened?" Newt asked, deciding on concern. Tasha nodded once, her running had been pretty standard until it had started pouring rain.
"Nothing." She told him. Newt huffed out a sigh, turning to the maze. Tasha felt like there was more to be said, but this time, just like almost all other times, words did not seem to find her.
"Ok… Go get cleaned up, you look like hell." Newt gave a tense smirk, but Tasha realised why he wanted to laugh earlier and it is by now that Tasha can feel the cold curl of mud seeping into her shoes and she looked down at herself. She's splattered, head to toe, with thick mud, sliding down her, hair slicked down, mud caked to her cheeks and rain sticking her clothes to her skin. Tasha gave Newt a weak smile and trudged to her bunk, collecting her casual clothing and heading for the shower.
She stepped into the shower fully clothed, aside from her pack, because she was already coated with mud, it would probably be good for them. It took her a while to finally be able to peel the clothing from her skin, letting it fall in a pile by her feet, mud swirling into the drain beside it.
She spent more time than was probably reasonable, sitting in the shower block with her arms wrapped around her legs, a distorted smile on her face while her tears were washed away by the water. It was fine, no reason to freak out! She tells herself this over and over again, her grip getting tighter until it leaves little bruises and nail mark along her skin. She washed with shaky hands and took a few deep breathes before towelling off and pulling on her clean, cotton clothes. It's then that she realised that the rain had stopped falling and there was sunlight shining through the thatched roof.