TWENTY SIX
「breaking the
barrier」

   SYLVIA FELT HER world tilt on its axis. All the work they'd done, all the time they'd spent studying the maps, and the answer was right beneath their noses the entire time. Sylvia felt elated with the discovery, and incredibly stupid that she hadn't figured it out sooner. The letter F stood boldly in the middle of the page, the image seared into her mind.

   "Man..." Minho said, summing up her anger, shock, frustration, and elation all in one word.

   "Could be a coincidence," Teresa said. "Do more, quick."

   Thomas did, putting together the eight pages of each day, in order from Section One to Section Eight. Each time, an obvious letter formed in the center of the crisscrossed mass of lines. After the F was an L, then an O, then an A, and a T. Then C...A...T.

   "Look," Thomas said, pointing down the line of stacks they'd formed, looking confused. "It spells FLOAT and then it spells CAT."

   "Float cat?" Newt asked. "Doesn't sound like a bloody rescue code to me."

   "We just need to keep working," Thomas said.

   Another couple of combinations made them realize that the second word was actually CATCH. FLOAT and CATCH.

   Sylvia let a grin split her lips, and then laughter shook her chest. She walked over to Thomas, and he looked at her inquisitively, and admittedly, a little scared. She gripped his shoulders, shaking him a bit, eyes wild and still laughing lightly. "You're a freaking genius, Greenie!"

   "Definitely not a coincidence," Minho said, lips curling.

   "Definitely not," Thomas agreed, smiling at the two of them.

   Teresa gestured toward the storage closet. "We need to go through all of them—all those boxes in there."

   "Yeah," Thomas nodded. "Let's get on it."

   "We can't help," Minho said.

   Each of them looked at him. He returned their glares. "At least not me, Syl, and Thomas here. We need to get the Runners out in the Maze."

   "Minho, what!?" Sylvia exclaimed in disbelief, "We might've just cracked the code and you want to run?"

   "She's right." Thomas agreed. "This is way more important!"

   "Maybe," Minho answered calmly, "but we can't miss a day out there. Not now."

    Sylvia was stuck between decisions. Minho was also right. With everything that's changed lately, who's to say the Maze hasn't done the same? But finishing cracking the code seemed like such a victory in an extremely long line of losses. She felt about as disappointed as Thomas looked. The Newbie asked, "Why, Minho? You said the pattern's basically been repeating itself for months—one more day won't mean a thing."

   Minho slammed his hand against the table. "That's bullcrap, Thomas! Of all days, this might be the most important to get out there. Something might've changed, something might've opened up. In fact, with the freaking walls not closing anymore, I think we should try your idea—stay out there overnight and do some deeper exploring."

   Sylvia felt her heart skip a beat. Stay out there overnight. She practically felt the adrenaline rushing in her veins at the sound of the words. No Runner had ever done that before and survived, until Thomas and Minho.

   Thomas argued. "But what about this code? What about—"

   "Overnight." Sylvia cut Thomas off, throwing a meaningful look at Minho. Her fingers skimmed over the scar in her left palm. "Fine. But we need people working on this 24/7." She pointed to the maps.

   "Tommy," Newt said in a consoling voice. "Minho's right. You shanks go out and get Runnin'." He then looked at Sylvia and said, "I'll round up some Gladers we can trust and get workin' on this." Newt sounded more like a leader than ever before.

   "Me too," Teresa agreed. "I'll stay and help Newt."

   Thomas looked at her. "You sure?"

   Teresa smiled and folded her arms. "If you're going to decipher a hidden code from a complex set of different mazes, I'm pretty sure you need a girl's brain running the show." Her grin turned into a smirk.

   Sylvia grinned at her, "Damn right."

   "Good that." Minho nodded and turned to go. "Everything's fine and dandy. Come on."

   Thomas followed Minho up the stairs. Sylvia gave one last lingering look at their work laid across the table, basking in the discovery before following after them. She couldn't wait to tell Cole.

   THE KEEPERS OF the Runners gathered each one of the Runners beside the remnants of the Map Room. They handed out new weapons to all of them, since the ones they kept in the Map Room had burnt down with it. They had all been told to pack more supplies than usual. More food, water, bandages and medicines. Weapons. Sylvia had even pulled out her small axe for the occasion.

   Sylvia was, admittedly, a bit surprised to find that each one of them agreed with the idea of staying out in the Maze overnight, despite the stigmatism that had come with the idea. She shouldn't have been so surprised. She knew these boys, and she knew they'd do anything to give the rest of the Glade a chance to escape this place, just like she would. She felt as if she'd known them all for so long, even the newer ones who hadn't been there that long. She felt responsible for them. Her Runners. Her boys.

   The news had spread to the rest of the Glade quickly, and as Sylvia and Cole prepared themselves to go out, Oscar and Troye had stalked up to them.

   "Overnight!" Troye practically yelled, his loud and jovial voice carrying across the Glade and turning a few heads their way. Troye laughed, shaking his head. "You're more arrogant than I thought."

   "The Greenie's and Minho's idea, actually." Sylvia shrugged.

   "Well," Oscar started, throwing an arm around Cole's shoulders and squeezing the boy, "Give 'em hell."

   The freckled boy grinned, "We will."

   "I trust I'm getting that haircut when you get back?" Troye asked.

   Oscar gasped as if someone had just told him the world was ending. "What? You're cutting your hair!?"

   "Been planning on it." Troye answered simply.

   "Nooooo!" Oscar whined, "You can't! It's too beautiful!"

   Oscar brushed a hand through Troye's long hair and the blond slapped his hand away. Oscar slapped the boy on the arm in retaliation. The two started slapping each other and Sylvia nodded her head to Cole, silently telling him that this was their escape. He laughed quietly and followed her as she entered the Maze.

   As they were about to turn the corner, they heard Troye and Oscar calling out to them, shouting their disappointment that they had left without a goodbye. Sylvia smirked at the boys over her shoulder and then disappeared out of sight.

   As Sylvia and Cole ran on, it quickly became obvious that the walls hadn't changed since the day before. Usually, the only thing they could count on changing regularly in the Maze was the movement of the walls. Now, they had seemingly stopped. Sylvia wondered what that could mean for them.

   They ran through the rest of Section One, with no change. There was nothing new. No new passages, or secret messages inscribed in the walls. Sylvia was mildly disappointed, but not surprised. By the end of four hours, they had run all the way through Section One and back, and they were now stopped at the intersection that led back to the Glade. The bleak gray skies didn't provide any cheer to the gloomy mood that had settled over them.

   "Okay, let's take a break." Sylvia decided. Cole and herself sat side by side along the wall, shoulders almost touching.

   "This is depressing." Cole stated.

   "Yeah." Sylvia agreed. She tried to think of something that would spark interesting conversation to help pass the time. She briefly remembered how their last conversation in the Maze had been cut off, with Nick's spirit appearing in the hall. She rubbed her eyes and asked, "How's it going with—what's his name? Jake?"

   "Jack." Cole corrected with a bit of embarrassment. "I actually haven't told him yet."

   "What?" Sylvia cried out, "Why not?"

   He made a flustered gesture with his hands, "What if he doesn't like me?"

   "There's no way he wouldn't like you." She declared. "You're very likable. And that's saying something coming from me, because I don't like people easily."

   "You like lots of people." Cole scoffed.

   "Oh yeah? Like who?" Sylvia huffed sarcastically. "Name three people I'd confess my deepest darkest secret to."

   "I know your deepest darkest secret." Cole said, raising his chin with confidence.

   "Tell me then."

   "I can't. You'll kill me."

   "Spill it."

   Cole stared at her with a smirk. Sylvia had never seen him look so mischievous, and she was honestly kind of worried about what he would reveal. He said, "It has something to do with a certain Keeper of the Runners..."

   Sylvia narrowed her eyes at him, "What are you getting at?"

   "Well, I've just noticed lately...that you guys have gotten kinda...close?"

   "We are not close."

   Cole put his hands up, "Just telling you what I saw."

   Sylvia pointed a finger at him, "Don't make this about me! You're trying to change the topic off of Jack!"

   "I can't tell him, Syl!"

   "Yes, you can!" Sylvia exclaimed, "He definitely likes you back."

   "I don't know..." He trailed off. Sylvia gave him a pointed look. "Fine. I'll think about telling him."

   "Good that."

   They continued on with their search of the Maze. Sylvia had decided to try feeling along the walls and the ground to see if anything would move or open up. They checked hidden spaces in the walls to see if there had been any changes. They even tried climbing up the ivy a bit. Once the wall-closing time came around, Sylvia told Cole they had to be cautious now, and they probably shouldn't talk anymore in case the sound attracted Grievers. It was still weird not to hear the roaring groan of the walls as they slid towards one another, to not feel the vibrations rumbling beneath her feet.

   Sylvia kept the axe she'd brought ready in her hand, knuckles whitening around it. Oddly enough, they didn't hear the eerie moans of the Grievers. Their clicks and whirrs were absent from the corridors. After a while, well into what would be the night, they spotted the first Griever. They saw its tail end disappear around a turn, and they waited to see if it would come back. It didn't.

   The next Griever they saw at one of the intersections. It had run right in front of them, from the left corridor into the right corridor. Sylvia wasn't sure if it hadn't spotted them, or simply ignored them. Something was off. She could still feel the rush of her heart as it had passed them.

   The rest of the night, they didn't spot any more Grievers. If anything, the whole excursion had been a major fail. There was nothing new.

   "Should we go back?" Cole asked, glancing at his watch. "It's already almost eight in the morning."

   Sylvia nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

   WHEN THEY HAD entered the Glade, everyone was roaming around dejectedly. The Gladers were working half-heartedly, and Sylvia didn't blame them. Just looking at the Homestead, she could see another hole had newly adorned the old building. A deep feeling of dread passed over her.

   After being in the Maze for so long, and without sleep for more than twenty four hours, Sylvia was just about ready to pass out. Her eyes drooped with exhaustion. She felt like she could sleep for a hundred years.

   Newt was working in the gardens when he'd spotted them, and he quickly made his way over. Stopping in front of them, he said, "You're the first to come back. What happened?" The hopeful expression on Newt's face made her want to lie right to his face about their desolate discoveries. "Tell me you've got good news."

   The echoing thuds of feet sounded behind her, and she turned to see Minho and Thomas coming back from their night, thankfully without any injuries. Minho looked about as exhausted as she'd ever seen him.

   The two of them stopped next to Sylvia and Cole. Newt asked again to the group of them, "Find anything?"

   Minho stared off at a spot in the distance, eyes sullen. "Nothing," he said. "The Maze is a big freaking joke."

   Sylvia's head whipped towards him. She was always the one being pessimistic, the hopeless one. It unsettled her to see her exterior on Minho. He was always the one yapping about, 'It's right under our noses!' 'We'll find it,' 'We're close, I can feel it."

   Newt looked at Thomas, confused. "What's he talking about?"

   "He's just discouraged," Thomas said with a weary shrug. "We didn't find anything different. The walls haven't moved, no exits, nothing. Did the Grievers come last night?"

   Newt paused, darkness passing over his face. Finally, he bowed his head and nodded. "Yeah. They took Troye."

   "What?" Sylvia asked in a small voice, unlike herself. Her brows furrowed. She must've misheard. She must have. "Troye?"

   Newt gave a single, solemn nod. "The stupid things sucked him right into their flesh and carried him away."

   Sylvia's eyes burned. She quickly shoved the heel of her hands into her eyes. Troye. Dead. Sylvia didn't think she could take any more. She realized with a jarring shudder that she'd never actually given him that haircut he'd been nagging her about for so long. It was such a stupid thing to think, but the thought made the reality of losing such a good friend that much more damning.

   God, she was so tired. So tired.

   Minho burst with sudden rage. "I'm sick of this!" Minho spat in the ivy, veins popping out of his neck. "I'm sick of it! It's over! It's all over!" He took off his backpack and threw it on the ground. "There's no exit, never was, never will be. We're all shucked."

   Sylvia tore her hands from her eyes and watched him walk away with colors swirling in her vision. She looked at the ground, brushing the back of her finger against her brow. "Troye..." she murmured.

   He wouldn't even have a grave.

   Dazedly, Sylvia sulked in the direction of the Homestead. Her feet carried her along, without her telling them to do so. The actions felt automated, but still her. She thought she might have dropped her pack in the middle of the Glade on the way to the rickety building, its weight no longer hovering on her shoulders. She only realized what she was doing after she'd carried herself up the steps, down the hallway, and laid her hand on the bronze handle to Minho's door.

   She hesitated, then opened the door. Minho was sitting on his bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. The room had minimal lighting due to the still boarded up windows, and the lack of lamps. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she walked further into the room, and Minho looked up at her.

   "Pessimism doesn't suit you." She said hoarsely. "It's my thing."

   "Yeah, well...I'm joining the club."

   "We'll find a way out." Sylvia didn't know if she believed her own words.

   Minho sighed. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be punching a wall somewhere?"

   She shrugged. "Isn't this what friends do? I thought we were 'friends' now."

   "Barely." He scoffed lightly. 

   Her lips twitched the slightest bit and she walked a bit closer. "Truce at best, huh?"

   Minho stared up at her. He muttered, "Yeah."

Then she was being pulled forwards, and Minho pressed the side of his face against the plane of her stomach, his arms wrapping around her torso. She found her hands hovering in the air for a moment, surprised, before her hands slowly started to move to cup his head, one threading through his hair, the other smoothing the nape of his neck.

"Lay with me." Minho mumbled against the fabric of her shirt, the warmth of his breath brushing against her skin through the fabric. A strange feeling shot through her stomach, like the flapping of wings.

   "Why?" She whispered. She feared him. She feared the things he did to her. The way he made her feel.

   "Because I can't sleep alone."

   Then, they were on the bed, beneath the blankets. Sylvia told him she'd only comply if Minho followed two rules: he was not allowed to touch her, and they had to sleep on opposite sides of the bed.

So, Sylvia squeezed herself against the wall, so she was as far away from him as possible. Minho obliged, laying near the very edge of the bed. He had closed his eyes already, laying on his back. Sylvia laid on her side, her eyes studying the side of his face with furrowed brows. Her heart was thudding wildly against her ribcage and she wondered if Minho could hear the impossibly loud sound.

   "I thought you said I never sleep." Sylvia whispered faintly.

   "You don't have to sleep." He replied, eyes still closed.

   "I'm going to use this against you."

   Minho's voice was heavy with sleep when he murmured, "Whatever you want, sunshine."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

as you guys can probably tell by now, i have a thing for killing off characters