AN: this chapter might be a bit meh because I didn't have much time to write it, my internship has started and it's taking all of my time I swear ugh ugh I hope you guys still enjoy reading it regardless! OTL also I want to thank you guys for all the reviews you've left, I love reading your comments even if sometimes I don't respond because I'm so busy ;A; thank you all so much for your support so far!
When she woke up the next morning, it didn't seem any different from being dead.
She lay there for a moment, unwilling to move, trying to process everything that happened last night. After her… Rejection (She didn't know whether it counted as a rejection since Minho didn't tell it to her face, but that wasn't really his fault anyway.) Newt didn't exchange any words with her, just silently brought her back to Homestead where they both quietly turned in.
It wasn't until the blond entered her line of vision did she break out of her thoughts and look briefly at his expectant expression for a moment. It wasn't time for the gladers to wake up to attend to their duties yet so when he didn't budge, she frowned but eventually sat up. Her vision whited out from the sudden movement and her head buzzed from crying yesterday, but she managed to somehow look him in the eye questioningly as if it was just another morning.
"You alright?" Newt asked, looking her over.
"Fine." Qiufeng smiled.
He cast her an uncertain look, but beckoned for her to follow him. Curious as to why he was dragging her out this early and eager for a distraction from her thoughts, she obliged. They stepped gingerly over the other sleeping gladers, making their way over to Homestead. He led her inside, all the way to the back where a few others stood waiting for them.
Through the dim lighting, she could just about make out a few familiar faces. There was Stan from the Track-hoes, Ben and Tim from the Builders, Dave from the Slicers… Surprise flickered across her face as she recognized Lester standing in the corner, his face hidden in the shadows, and…
She felt her heart stop.
Because Minho was there, talking to Alby. It was so normal that her chest ached even through the panic because she hadn't expected to face him so early in the day so she didn't have a proper plan of what to do.
She glanced at Newt, who kept his eyes focused straight ahead and refused to look at her.
"Morning lazy shank," Minho greeted with a smirk as the two approached the group.
There was a moment of silence where it seemed as though Qiufeng didn't hear him, before her eyes briefly glanced upwards to meet his and she allowed a flicker of a smile to pass across her face in acknowledgement. He frowned, noticing her weird behaviour and his gaze shifted to Newt. The other had occupied himself by speaking to Alby, and as Minho turned back to the girl in front of him, he felt a sense of uneasiness. Newt couldn't have told her about yesterday night, could he?
He shook off the unwanted thought, focusing himself. He needed to keep to the task at hand.
Alby and Newt turned to him, nodding their heads as they left the room. He saw Newt give Qiufeng's shoulder a gentle squeeze as he walked past her, to which she gave a weak smile in response. He frowned, feeling a weird squeezing sensation in his chest but decided to brush it off by turning to the small group of five. He surveyed them for a moment before he spoke.
"You shanks are gonna be runners," Minho began simply, in the most straightforward way possible.
He thought he saw Qiufeng's eyes widen a little but it was gone as fast as it came. Stan and Tim had started to talk amongst themselves in excited whispers, and while Dave and Ben did the same, they sounded less than eager.
"Why us?" Dave spoke up after a moment, his voice wary.
"Because you're all basically the best bet the glade has as runners right now, even if you're better suited for other jobs." His gaze flickered briefly to the only girl there, and she looked away. "Either that or it was already decided that you would run eventually."
Qiufeng frowned at the last sentence, wondering what that meant. He gave them a second to be excited and worried before he pulled out a key and opened up a door behind him (It was so run down that she couldn't help but find it funny that they still kept it locked, it looked like it would collapse if she had pressed her finger against it hard enough) revealing a small storage closet. There was a click and a ray of light lit the dark space as Minho flicked on a flashlight.
She stayed behind as Minho rummaged through whatever that was inside, catching a glimpse of some ropes and chains as his flashlight passed over them briefly. Her eyebrow raised when eventually it came to a rest on a box of running shoes, and she had to hold back a snicker because it seemed so ordinary.
"Size?" She heard Minho ask Stan.
There was a moment as Stan just stood there with a blank look on his face, before his face lit up. He bent down, pulling off one of his shoes and took a look inside. "Ten."
Minho almost immediately threw a pair of blue and white shoes over his shoulder, and Stan dropped his old shoes, somehow managing to catch his new pair between awkward hops and skips.
"Eight." Tim offered confidently and was thrown a pair of yellow and grey ones.
While Dave stepped up to be next, Qiufeng briefly wondered if they even had sizes for girls. Her feet weren't that large, so it would really turn out to be a surprise if they somehow had shoes that fit her.
As Ben received a pair of sleek white shoes, she stepped forward only to be personally handed a medium sized package by Minho who had stood up and turned around. She gave him a weird look before examining the box closely. Even in the dim lighting she could make out some foreign characters that were written neatly on the wrapping paper. However after a second look she realized they begun to look familiar. It took a moment, but somehow even through her lost memories she could put a name to the characters because it was her language.
秋凤
Her name.
"Figured it was yours, it seems as though the creators want you to run." Minho said with a shrug as she focused on the neat handwriting.
She sat down beside the boys that were lacing up their shoes and tore away the paper, careful not to damage her written name. Lifting the lid of the box, a slim digital watch was laid right on top of the contents. It was black and very simple, the digits displayed in a bright red across the screen.
A small movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she watched as Minho dropped a black watch on each of the boy's laps. "Put it on and never take it off. Your life might depend on it," he said, before disappearing into the darkness of the room again.
Qiufeng quickly wore it, buckling it shut before turning back to the package. There was a soft fabric lying there next, and she pulled it out without thinking. There was a moment as she stared at the black sports bra in front of her, her face turning as bright a red as the lining before stuffing it back in quickly.
There was a quiet chuckle from the side that she recognized almost immediately, and she focused digging deeper, eyes never leaving the package on her lap. Eventually she pulled out a pair of trainers, and like the rest of the items inside the box, they were black and lined in red.
There was a moment as she admired the color, before she pulled them on and quickly laced them up while Minho started to ramble on again. "Here's a backpack, water bottles, lunch box, some shorts and t-shirts." He dropped each item on the ground next to all of them as he listed them off, before pausing.
Qiufeng looked up to see him holding a few pairs of tightly cut underwear, made from a shiny white material and she averted her eyes as her face turned bright red again. "These bad boys're what we call Runnie-undies. Keeps you, um, nice and comfy," he said, more so to the boys than to her.
The atmosphere lifted for a moment as there were some awkward chuckles from the boys as they each took one, all instinctively knowing the meaning of what he had said.
After that, they were all given some time to change into their new clothes before meeting back outside the closet. Qiufeng was one of the first to return, taking some time to step around experimentally as she tested the soft padding of her new shoes. She did a little graceful twirl at the end as the rest came back and Minho shook his head. "You were probably a shucking ballerina before this whole mess, I swear."
Without thinking, Qiufeng made a face. They both averted their eyes after her instinctive response, Minho in some brief confusion after the lack of acknowledgements the whole morning, and Qiufeng in panic that she had forgotten to ignore him.
"Hurry your asses, I still need to show you the weapons." He cleared his throat after a moment as he walked to the back of the closet.
Minho took the time to studiously reply a few questions from Ben as he pulled away a few boxes away from the back wall, revealing a small trap door. He lifted it to reveal a flight of wooden stairs leading into a blackness, and stood back to let them peer into the darkness. "Keep 'em down here so shanks like Gally can't get to them. Come on."
He went first, and then no one else followed. Qiufeng looked around quizzically, wondering what was the hold up before realizing everyone's gaze were on her, waiting for her to go first. She rolled her eyes and descended the stairs quickly before Minho could rush them.
A light flickered on just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, and she entered a room about thirty square feet big. There were weapons, everywhere. Wooden poles, metal spikes, saws, knives, even swords. Whatever weapon you needed besides technologically advanced weapons, this room probably had. They even had an entire wall dedicated to archery, with wooden bows, arrows and spare strings hanging off wall hooks.
Qiufeng wandered over to where the knives were displayed, or more like thrown. It was a wooden trunk, with its top open and leaning against the wall. Knives were stacked messily inside, thrown haphazardly around after a long day in the maze. She reached in and picked out a small one, about the same sized as the knife she had used to kill Albert.
"Don't use most of it," Minho commented. "But ya never know. All we usually take with us is a couple of sharp knives."
Someone appeared beside her, and she looked up to see Lester. "You better pick a few, don't think Fry's gonna appreciate anymore knives going missin' in the kitchen," he said, with the corner of his mouth quirked up. She managed a smile in response.
Then Minho's voice rang out into the room. "Pick a couple weapons of your choice, make sure they're nice and sharp. We'll go get breakfast after this and pack our lunch since Feng isn't doing that for us no more. After that I wanna spend sometime in the Map Room before we head out."
Qiufeng turned back to the chest and picked a few more knives, shoving them into a holster that she then wrapped around her thigh. Once ready, she joined the rest near the exit of the basement and they headed back up to get some food from Frypan.
About half an hour later, fed and packed, they were all brought to the map room. Qiufeng had always been curious about this room, she had been here long enough to know what was inside, but had never been inside herself nor did she try to ask anyone about it. Minho spun the wheel-handle until there was an audible click from inside, before pulling. The door swung open with a squeak.
He stepped aside, motioning for her to go in first.
Qiufeng allowed herself to glance at him briefly before stepping into the room. She was curious, but cautiousness reminded her to watch her step.
A coppery scent greeted her as she was inside fully, so strong that she could almost taste it through slightly parted lips. Minho hit a switch, and some several rows of fluorescent lights blinked to life. It was a rather simplistic room than what she had expected, with walls bare of decoration and only a wooden table in the middle surrounded by eight chairs. Each seat had its own neat stack of paper and pencils, for documenting the maze each day Qiufeng assumed. Besides that the map room only contained eight closed trunks, evenly spaced with two to a wall.
"Welcome to the Map Room," Minho said as he walked over to the head of the table. "As happy a place as you could ever visit."
He grabbed a piece of paper, starting to draw. They gathered around and watched him sketch a box that took up the entire page, filling it with smaller boxes three rows by three columns. He scribbled the word 'GLADE' in the middle box, and then numbered the outside squares from one to eight, starting in the upper left corner and going clockwise. Lastly, he added some little notches here and there.
"There are the Doors," Minho began as he flipped the paper around for them to see. "You know about the ones from the Glade, but there are four more out in the Maze that lead to Sections One, Three, Five, and Seven. They stay in the same spot, but the route there changes with the wall movements every night." He finished and slid the paper towards them.
"So we have the Glade, surrounded by eight sections, each one a completely self-contained square and unsolvable since we began this freaking game. The only thing even approaching an exit is the Cliff, and that ain't a very good one unless you like falling to a horrible death." Minho tapped the Map. "The walls move all over the shuck place every evening—same time as our Doors close shut. At least, we think that's when, because we never really hear walls moving any other time."
All of them crowded around to study the map that Minho had passed over, curious murmurs coming from the new runners.
"We always have at least eight Runners, including the Keeper. One for each Section. It takes us a whole day to map out our area—hoping against hope there's an exit—then we come back and draw it up, a separate page for each day." Minho glanced over at one of the trunks. "That's why those things are shuck full of maps."
At least eight runners.
Qiufeng glanced up to where Minho was seated, and then towards Lester. One of the two runners that had survived the massacre that day asked to quit, too afraid to continue running. Alby and Minho let him, a nervous runner was as good as not a runner. The other runner was probably out in the maze already, trying to cover whatever ground he could cover. The rest were being replaced by them.
"After you do your running and mapping of the day," Minho said as he stood up and stepped over to one of the trunks that was leaning against the wall. "We take those mappings and throw 'em in here."
He bent down and lifted the lid of the trunk, bringing it to rest against the wall. Inside there were four stacks of maps, almost all filled to the brim. From the top Qiufeng could see the same rough sketches that Minho had mapped out, but with some differences as well as a date, name and section label on the top right corners.
Minho continued, "we figured out the walls were moving right at the beginning. As soon as we did, we started keeping track. We've always thought that comparing these day to day, week to week, would help us figure out a pattern. And we did—the mazes basically repeat themselves about every month. But we've yet to see an exit open up that will lead us out of the square. Never been an exit."
Qiufeng felt her hopes drop a little at Minho's bluntness. They had been running for three years after all, if there hasn't been an exit within these few years what made them think there would be an exit any time soon? There was a quiet pause as the five new runners including herself flipped through a couple of the papers, silently contemplating if running was truly something to be invested in especially after being trapped for so long.
"Honestly if there hasn't been an exit, what makes you think there will be?" Dave finally asked as he looked up from a stack of maps.
Minho shrugged. "It's kind of depressing I know, but we don't know what else to do. Can't take a chance that one day, in one spot, somewhere, an exit might appear. We can't give up. Ever."
For once, Qiufeng was relieved that Minho had a stubborn ass attitude. As bad as things were, giving up would only make them worse.
He pulled several sheets from the trunk, some maps from the most recent few days before the attacks. "We compare day to day, week to week, month to month, just like I was saying. Each Runner is in charge of the Map for his own Section. If I gotta be honest, we haven't figured out jack yet. Even more honest—we don't know what we're looking for. Really sucks, man. Really freaking sucks."
"But we can't give up." Qiufeng offered when no one else spoke, staring at the ground. Then in a quiet voice almost to herself, "we promised we would go beyond the walls."
Minho smiled nostalgically for a moment as he caught her whisper. "Right. We can't give up."
He returned the papers to the trunk and closed it before standing. "Well, we gotta bust it fast since we took time in here— Because there's quite a few of you, we'll be splitting you in half so you guys can learn faster and better. Stan and Tim, you'll go with Lester. Ben and Dave, with me."
There was a pause as his gaze flickered over to Qiufeng. "You're the odd one, so pick who you wanna go with."
Her eyes widened as her gaze passed between the groups, already split into two accordingly. Minho's expression was expectant, and Lester didn't look too concerned. It was as if her decision was already made.
She felt her chest ache again as her gut tightened.
It's better this way.
"I'll go with Lester." Qiufeng announced, drawing some surprised expressions from the gladers in front of her.
She gritted her teeth, mouth tightly shut as she focused her eyes on Lester's group and walked over to where Stan and Tim were standing, all the while trying to fiercely convince herself, 'it's better this way.'
"Right." Minho acknowledged after a brief pause as she studiously arranged the knives in her holster so that she could pretend she didn't hear the hint of confusion in his voice because 'it's better this way.'
"You guys will head to the east wall and we'll head to the west." He said again after another moment when there was no further response from her, and she turned away to face the east, refusing to make eye contact with him as they went their separate ways. "Well, let's go runnin'."
It's better this way.