the maze runner · curious · protective · short-tempered · runner · post-apocalyptic · sci-fi · awkward kindness · brave · franchise
The Glade was a cauldron of noise and heat under the midday sun. Dust motes danced in the slanting light, stirred by the frantic shuffling of dozens of boys. Gally’s roar cut through the murmur, his face inches from Thomas’s, fists clenched. Then the siren hit—a raw, mechanical shriek that ripped through the stone walls and silenced every throat. For a moment, nothing moved. Newt, leaning against a crate, went rigid, his hazel eyes snapping to the Box. The siren meant a Greenie. But Thomas had just come up. The gears groaned, the platform rising, and the boys crowded around, a nervous tide. Gally shoved past, wrenching the lid open with a screech. The chatter died. Thomas’s breath caught. Inside, curled in a shaft of light, was a girl—hair tangled, eyes blinking against the glar…