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Thomas knew he was going to die, but the real question was when. Currently, if you asked him, his situation was pretty pathetic yet familiar. He was running for his life in an underground labyrinth, trying to escape death with his best friends, Newt and Minho. His feet ached from running, and the monster chasing them wasn't going to tire anytime soon. He knew that from personal experience. It also seemed to be unnaturally faster than the other previous creatures they encountered. Normally, after a couple miles they would tire and get lost in the shifting maze. This time though, the whirring, clicking sounds were growing closer, and the tunnels remained stationary as if it was holding their breath, waiting until the monster would reach them. Until they were caught. It all felt inevitable.
Thomas risked a glance back and felt his heart sink. Normally, Newt could hold his own when running and even sometimes pulled ahead. This time the case was different. Minho had Newt’s hand in his, urging him to run faster, but Newt’s limp wasn't helping. His leg dragged behind him slightly, causing him to stumble occasionally on the rough floor. Thomas reached over and took hold of his other hand and swung Newt's pack over his own shoulder to unburden him.
They knew there was a story behind Newt's limp, but it was a touchy subject. Newt hated talking about it, always feeling like a burden, so the topic was steadily avoided. They constantly would reassure him that he was not a bother, that they would never leave him behind, yet their efforts remained futile. Newt would grow quiet and nod stiffly in response before they changed the topic to a lighter note.
The tunnel stretching out in front of them was different then the one they were coming out of. It had a higher ceiling with fancy columns, as if they had walked into a completely different era. The architecture of the tunnels were always so different that they gave him whiplash. It showed him that they moved through the labyrinth, but they almost never encountered the same place twice. It used to make him fear the true enormity of labyrinth, but after some time they had learned to live with it.
Thomas knew the maze was alive in a way because its passages would shift and turn. It also consisted of levels, including the halls of the sky above and the ones below, filled with the crashing sea. In the middle level, they would sometimes find vines that offered wild fruits or crates of abandoned canned food if they were lucky. They learned to remain in the middle level most of the time due to the violent nature of the sea which was much too dangerous and unpredictable, with various floods pouring in at moments. They would wander into the lower darkness occasionally when they were desperate to catch fish, or gather seaweed. The upper level was a favorite for the group, but it would sometimes be much too foggy, leaving them blindly wandering the halls with the threat of crashing into a shifting wall. Still, once in a while, the damp air of the tunnel would bring a cool breeze that carried hope of finding an exit.
Someday.
Their footsteps echoed in the atmosphere around them. The deathly noises of the creature were interrupted when Minho called out, “Thomas, Newt is too tired to go on. The tunnels aren't changing!” Thomas waited, listening for Newt's sounds of protest, but he heard nothing this time, and it made his heart sink.
They had been running for what seemed like hours. Time was too difficult down in the labyrinth. They were all beyond exhausted, but wordlessly, Thomas grabbed hold of Newt’s hand more tightly and dragged them on. He didn't dare stop or turn around again, but only tried to concentrate on Newt’s hand and the dark, endless tunnel. Thomas had gotten used to running far distances for long periods of time since he had done it for a while now, but it never made it less difficult.
***
In the beginning days, when he had woken up in the labyrinth, he had first met Minho. It had been difficult, trying to piece together what they knew about the place they were in and why. One thing they had both had in common was their lack of memories about their life before the labyrinth. A few days later, after dividing their rations and figuring out a routine, they encountered their first monster.
They had been collecting some rain water dripping from the high ceiling when a strange echo of clicking could be heard down the hall. It had been too hard to see, but they had heard a yelp of surprise. Giving each other a nod, they had simultaneously decided to approach and see what had caused the human like sound of distress. The darkness had slowly unveiled a horrifying image. Pressed against the wall a boy with golden hair was staring, frozen, at the most vile creature Thomas had ever seen. The thing had been slowly approaching the boy with a needle sharp hand, inching towards his neck. The boy, noticing their presence, had spared a glance and made direct eye contact with Thomas, his brown eyes trying to process the new arrivals at the scene.
Thomas had stared back at the still boy, refusing to move or run, and then at a stone on the floor. In a split second decision, he had picked up the rock and thrown it down the tunnel with a resolute thump. The creature whirred around in the opposite direction, towards the sound and away from the boy. Minho had then rushed over grabbing the boy, and running with Thomas right behind them.
After their near death escape they became inseparable, yet never found anyone else down there aside from Newt.
They had come to the conclusion that there might have been other people that had been sent to the labyrinth as well, but had not survived the first days. Luckily for them, they had been able to find each other on time, making their survival rate increase exponentially. Being a group of three allowed them to sleep better because they had assigned night watches, while also making scouting much more convenient. After all, three minds and pairs of eyes were better than one.
Newt had been keen on keeping track of the days and time, but after three years he gave up. Sometimes, slits of light would seep through the cracked ceiling allowing them to differentiate the night versus day. The passages would normally vary in size but were never less than thirty feet high and ten feet wide. During the first few weeks in the labyrinth Minho had suggested they climb onto each other and peek through the cracks in the ceiling of the upper level. The problem was that the only places where there was light were on passages that had much too tall ceilings so they could not see anything anyway. Newt, who had been at the top for a grand total of ten seconds, told them that he had been able to see a glimpse of the blue sky and felt the sun’s warmth.
They had been more optimistic back then.
***
Now, as the three were running away from the monster, Newt shouted out in gasps, “Tommy, Minho, the tunnel is changing!”. That was enough to snap Thomas out of his thoughts.
Sure enough, a good sixty feet away, the tunnel was shifting, creating a path to the right but the walls were slowly shutting the passage, threatening to leave them to the mercy of the terrifying creature slowly catching up to them.
With a final burst of speed, Minho dragged Newt and Thomas into the tunnel just as the walls shut resolutely behind them. Instantly, Newt collapsed from the strain of running for hours. Minho and Thomas leaned against the cool wall, panting for breath as the creature wailed and scratched at the stone over having lost its prey. Sweat trailed down from his forehead and he yearned for water desperately. They only found fresh water sources occasionally and had now gone three days without finding a new source. His throat was so parched, it burned. Thomas kneeled down next to Newt when he heard him whimper in pain. He was sitting down, his head against the wall, and gingerly holding his left leg. His breaths came in short quick gasps.
“Newt, have some water.” said Thomas worriedly as he handed him the last sip from his own canteen. He was always the one who saved it the longest, sometimes going up to four or five days if he rationed it carefully enough.
Slowly, he registered the fact that there was an actual light source for the first time in days, allowing him to see Newt’s longish blonde hair and brown eyes. He blinked rapidly, his eyes slowly adjusting to the glare. “No, it's yours and you—you need it more. You guys did most of the work anyway. I just slowed you down,” he paused “Fuck, I'm so tired,” he spat out angrily, glaring at the floor.
Minho and Thomas stared at him in silence. They knew what he was trying to say. The thought of giving up had passed through everyone's head at least once but they always brushed it off and never spoke it aloud. It was as if their brains had been wired for survival. Now that the words were out, it seemed as if an endless chasm were separating them from Newt. Newt looked away bitterly at another seemingly endless tunnel.
Minho tried to change the subject carefully by saying, “I don’t think we have been in this section of the labyrinth before either.” Thomas eyed Newt warily, before responding, “Yeah, I think you’re right, this feels different.”
The area seemed much more…modern. There were actual LED lights that spanned the tops of the tunnel much further down. The walls were gray stone yet oddly smooth and the cold breeze that traveled down made him shiver. It seemed like an underground warehouse tunnel. Thomas wondered where he knew that information from.
Minho looked around before staring blankly at them, leaving no room for refusal, “I will scout the new passage, Thomas, you stay here with Newt while he rests. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”
Minho turned around and walked deeper into the passage until his figure was swallowed into the darkness. Once he was gone, Newt slowly got up, bracing himself against the wall and looked straight at Thomas before taking a deep breath and saying, “Look Tommy, I don't mean to bring down the mood, but tell me the truth. Haven't you thought of—" he paused, and contemplated his next words, "It has to at least have happened to you once. Right?”
His brown eyes looked at him, asking for his sincerity and reassurance that he was not alone in his sentiments. Thomas looked away from him and sighed before quietly saying, “Yes.” He looked over at Newt and they stared at each other in silence. “I–” his voice cracked, “I remember sometimes, you know? And that makes it worse because– because I want to leave, and go back to where I came from. I know there is a reason why we’re here. It's just that I want to know one thing. Why us? I– we didn't do anything for someone to get to choose our fate! Did I decide to come down here? Did we know each other before? I have so many fucking questions that I want answers to and the only way to find them is if we get the fuck out of this shitty place!”
Thomas stopped abruptly and couldn't hold Newt’s gaze so he looked at the wall past his shoulder. Newt’s gaze bore into him but he refused to look or else he would break down. Tentative arms wrapped around his shoulders and then Newt was hugging him and Thomas held him tightly too. His emotions were running wild and sought the warm comfort being offered. He buried his face into Newt's neck, inhaling and exhaling quietly trying to calm down.
“We will leave.” Newt said determinedly, stroking his hair, “I don't know when or–or how, but we will. The three of us. We will search everywhere for your questions because they matter. I feel the same way and I'm sure Minho does too.” He stopped, as if thinking his words carefully then spoke quietly, “I feel as if I have known you my whole life Thomas.”
Newt had not said his full first name for a long time and it made him realize how serious he was. When Newt said that, relief spread through Thomas because he felt as if that were true. It had to be because he was so familiar. When they had first arrived and met Newt for the first time, he had felt a sense of instant peace in his presence. Like he was a part of him that had been missing.
“I think so too,” he responded quietly, hoping to elongate the moment forever. Newt then stepped away, almost awkwardly, looking away shyly. Still, Thomas felt much better than he had in a long time because he found another sense of purpose for survival than just instinct. Their shared struggles lifted an invisible weight off his shoulders and made his posture relax. He was so used to being a picture of resilience, not wanting to add more worries to Minho or Newt, but this time was different. Newt knew and did not see him any differently as he had feared. Did not offer him a look of pity, instead of understanding. He felt a new connection grow between them and it made him want more.
Then something cold washed over Thomas in an instant, “Wait, we should check on Minho, he’s been gone awhile.”
That snapped Newt out from his trance as well and he peered into the darkness of the flickering tunnel in front of them. “Bloody hell, if he doesn't come back in the next minute I will kill him." he muttered under his breath.
“Actually, maybe he found something, that's why it's taking some time.” Thomas tried to assure him, though even as he said it, it sounded like a complete lie. Minho never took too long unless something was holding him back. Newt nodded slowly before leaning his head against the wall again and looking up at the lights. “Look, we have been down here for about, what, almost five years? And survived, and from what I know, he is the strongest out of the three of us right," Thomas joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Newt looked away, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. But part of what Thomas had said was true. They had lived in the labyrinth for so long and it had resulted in rebuilding them for survival. From the moment they arrived they had instinctively developed a system on how to survive day by day. During the light hours, they would occasionally run into the beasts but if they were lucky, they could go at least a week without seeing one. The trio had satchels with few clothes that they washed by hand when they found puddles of collected water from rainfall that seeped through the cracks of the tunnel, or subterranean lakes. Some had worn away from use and when that happened, as if by magic, new clothes would be found.
They learned to live with it.
Through it all, Minho had always been the mentally and physically strongest. Whenever it got too quiet, his words would fill the air, or if the walk was too tiring, he would suggest a break while he scouted ahead. This was nothing new. Still, time was ticking, and with no sign of Minho they got progressively more worried. There was only one thing that could keep Minho away for so long.
Newt finally broke the silence by saying, “I can't stand this anymore. Let’s go look for him.”
Thomas wanted to protest because Newt looked like he was about to fall over from pure exhaustion. Before he could form a coherent argument Newt determinedly put his backpack on and started to walk deep into the passage slowly, with a slight limp, as if holding back. Thomas struggled, trying to decide whether to follow or try to convince him to wait a little longer. Newt turned around to look at him resolutely.
Thomas was still trying to get used to seeing him clearly then just his outline, even if it was under flickering lights, “Well are you coming Tommy?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. Thomas gazed at him and sighed, “Fine but at least let me carry your bag for you.” Newt looked like he was going to protest, but instead just wordlessly handed it over.
Instantly, darkness swallowed them and Thomas could not see anything. The lights had flickered off. If he closed his eyes and opened it, there would be no difference. It was as if he had gone blind. Panic started to form in his chest and he glanced back to the tunnel behind them but it was pitch black.
“Thomas?” Newt called. He sounded scared. Thomas tried to follow the sound of his voice and called back.
“Newt! I’m here!” Suddenly a warm hand clasped his own in the darkness. “Is that you Newt?” he whispered. “ Of course it is you bloody idiot!” he responded but his voice sounded relieved.
Under different circumstances, holding hands with Newt would be embarrassing but right now it was reassuring in the darkness. “Tommy,” Newt said, breaking the silence, “I can't see anything at all.”
“I know, but we have to move forward. Use your other hand and see if you can reach the wall on the right.” Thomas said. “Okay” Newt replied while reaching blindly to his right. “Found it!” he called out, relief evident in his voice.
Slowly they moved forward, Newt’s hand on the wall, leading them through the gloom. Finally, after what seemed to have been a good ten minutes in silence, Thomas started to notice their surroundings starting to get lighter meaning that the dark passage was ending. Soon enough, Thomas could see Newt again and the direction they were going in. Newt abruptly stopped walking, making Thomas stumble slightly.
“What’s wrong?” he questioned. “We have traveled all over this bloody labyrinth and not once has that ever happened!” he exclaimed. Thomas gave an uneasy glance behind him before responding, “You're right but I don't want to think about the cause right now because we have to find Minho and see if he's alright first.” Newt nodded, his posture stiff as they continued down the path.
Suddenly the passage veered sharply to the left. They were a few feet from turning when Minho came barreling toward them. He crashed right into Thomas, and he pulled Newt down with him completely forgetting that they were still holding hands.
“Minho get the bloody hell off of me!” Newt yelped when Minho fell on his bad leg. Thomas helped him up quickly as he dusted himself off. Minho stood up next , “Sorry, sorry!” "You better be”, Newt grumbled though a smile made its way to his face. “What no hug?”, Minho said, smirking slightly. Newt had his arms crossed over his chest and was trying hard not to smile, but did not succeed. “You bloody shank! I was worried sick!” Newt exclaimed before tackling Minho into a hug. “Aw, I’m seriously touched Newt.” he replied mockingly but hugged him back.
Thomas looked away, feeling awkward but brushed it off. When Newt pulled away, Thomas patted Minho's back too saying, “Dude, where were you?''
“Why did it take so long?” Newt asked, glancing around warily. “I think I found something, a way out!” Minho talked excitedly, his eyes sparkling with unrestrained hope. “Wait, you're serious?” Newt said, looking shocked.
Thomas knew he shouldn't get his hopes up but he couldn't help it. Sure his memories of his past life were completely gone but now he had a spark of hope in returning to his past life and seeing his family. He only had snippets of memories, he knew he had a sister, and his mom. But that's it. It was as if someone had yanked everything from him but left just a few reminders of life he had previously had so that he could keep fighting for a way out. In a sick and twisted way, it was true and the only reason why Thomas even bothered to survive sometimes. He remembered talking to Newt about it, when both of them couldn't sleep and Minho was already snoring. Newt had told him sadly, “I also remember having a sister, and a mum and dad. Sometimes I wish I wouldn't because knowing, even if it's a little bit, hurts. It hurts so much, Tommy.”
After that, Thomas hadn't asked again. “Well?”, said Minho, bringing him back from his daze. “I was saying that I found some sort of device embedded in the wall. Here I'll show you guys.” Minho led them back the way he had come from to a new section of the labyrinth.
The passage took the shape of a maintenance tunnel, with pipes and tubes along the walls. The walls were reflective steel and he was able to catch his reflection properly for the first time in years. His hair was cut terribly and his clothes were much too worn. He looked starved yet there was a fierce glint in his eye. There were slight bags under his eyes from sleepless nights. They all seemed like they'd just come back from war. He glanced away and instead focused his attention on the path in front of him.
Finally after five minutes of walking in silence, except for the humming of the flickering lights, Minho came to a stop. "After I found this I was going to come back to you shanks but you sure are impatient.” Thomas glanced at the wall and saw a device projecting a screen. The weird thing is, it read ‘Enter Code’.
Millions of thoughts whirled through his head at once making him dizzy. What code? Who put the device there? Why, after years of wandering around, had they just finally found a way to possibly escape? If they entered the correct code, where would it take them? What would happen if they got it wrong? The possibilities were endless and the chances of finding the code were pretty much zero.
Newt looked as shocked as Thomas and the blue light from the screen made him appear ghostly. Thomas thought of the most important question so far and blurted out, “What code?”
“Do ya think I know? If I did, I would have already tried.” Minho replied, rolling his eyes. They looked over at Newt and saw that he was deep in thought. Then, wordlessly, he slipped off his backpack and started rummaging inside. “Whatcha searching for?” Minho said furrowing his brows. Newt ignored him until he pulled out a little leather notebook.
“Wait, you got a notebook? I forgot about that. Huh, I would have wanted to get that in my backpack.” Minho muttered the last part sadly, glancing at his worn satchel.
“Well,” Thomas asked gently, “What does the code have to do with your notebook?” While Thomas had asked, Newt had flipped through it until reaching the last page and handing it to him. Thomas took the notebook brushing his fingers against Newt’s. They were shaking. He stared intently at the page in the dim glow of the screen. Written in Newt’s elegant handwriting, Thomas saw a list of words: FLOAT - CATCH - BLEED - DEATH - STIFF - PUSH. Thomas faced up and locked eyes with Newt. He looked terrified and his brown eyes reflected blue from the light.
“What does this mean?” he asked gently. And then, looking back at the words, and the screen which read ‘Enter Code’, it hit him.
“What is it?”, asked Minho curiously, peering over his shoulder to take a good look at the words. “Tommy, Minho, you know what this means right?” Newt asked, his voice wavering. “This is the code.”
“What the fuck” Minho started, “How do you even know these are the words for the code? Where did you even find it!” Newt averted his gaze and responded in a quiet voice, “It’s… complicated. I can't explain it right now. There is no time. We don’t know if this will disappear or if we have a limited amount of time. I– I need you to trust me guys. Those are the words.”
Thomas stared at Newt intently trying to read his face. He appeared sincere. “I trust you Newt.” Thomas said, meaning every word. Newt looked at him gratefully and gave him a shy smile. Minho on the other hand seemed troubled.
“Look dude ,” Minho said turning skeptically towards Newt, “It’s not that I don't trust you but… I mean, we don't know if that really is the code. What if we have only once chance to enter the correct code? If you aren't right we blew that only chance. I don't mean to offend but there isn't any proof.”
Thomas could see tears of frustration threatening to spill from his eyes. The stress was hitting all of them. “Minho…” Thomas started, wanting to convince him into believing Newt but he cut in, responding to Minho, “No, he's right. I guess I owe you guys an explanation.”
“Newt, it’s fine if you don't want to tell us…" Thomas started hesitantly. Newt shook his head to stop him while trying to compose himself. “Guys, I…" he let out a small laugh, one filled with sadness, "There was a time that I wanted to kill myself.”, Newt whispered, turning his gaze furtively away. No one said anything and the silence was deafening.
Why had Newt felt this way? When did this happen…? Thomas was speechless and watched as Newt continued to blink back tears. Thomas wanted to comfort him but didn't know what to say or do. Newt finally broke the silence by continuing, “I don't want you to pity me and I can already see it in your eyes”, Newt said glaring defiantly, his eyes red, “Just don't ask any questions until I finish.” Thomas nodded numbly, barely processing his words. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Minho also nod, his expression hard to read.
Newt sighed as if bracing himself, “Remember the first week we arrived in the labyrinth? Well, I was absolutely terrified. I didn't remember anything with my memories gone. Then those… creatures appeared trying to catch us, or whatever they wanted to do. I thought I was going to die and it was all too much to process in such a short amount of time." His words spilled out faster and faster, as if this moment was the drop of water that finally overflowed the cup. "One night, while I was keeping watch and you guys were sleeping I tried to… well, obviously it didn't work”, he said, “I'm still alive.” he laughed bitterly and continued, “That first week when we tried climbing the walls to escape through one of the cracks in the ceiling? Well that night I walked far away from you guys and climbed some ivy and reached a good way up the wall and jumped. I was missing for a week because, one, I had walked so far that I got lost. Two, my right leg was killing me and on top of that I was stuck with this bloody limp.”
There was a pause, as if he was seeing the memory play itself in his mind of that painful night. “When I jumped, on impact I passed out from the pain and had a dream. I know that it was a memory because it was just too familiar. I also know that I was listening to a conversation we were never meant to hear. A woman was talking about some code and she kept repeating these words to someone and then, the first thing I did when I woke up was write it down. It has to have been a memory from the past… about the people that put us here.” he finished, looking at the wall as if it were suddenly extremely interesting.
Thomas couldn't understand why. He couldn't imagine what Newt could possibly remember that led him to take those measures. He recalled waking up years ago only to find Newt missing. Even though they had just met him, the worry both Minho and himself had suffered through for a week had been unbearable. When they finally found him, Newt had been crying in one of the passages and refusing to tell them what had happened. Thomas and Minho had noticed him limping, but when they questioned him he closed himself off completely. Now everything made perfect sense.
His thoughts came crashing to a halt when Minho walked over and hugged Newt before saying, “You idiot! How could you ever even think of doing that! Do you know how worried we had been?! But Newt, I trust you.”
He let go and looked expectantly at Thomas. Wordlessly, Thomas walked over, and hugged Newt too. He didn't say anything because no words could really help right now except a hug. Newt also hugged him back and whispered in his ear, “Thank you, Tommy.” His breath was warm and his embrace so comforting he could have stayed there forever… Minho coughed loudly before saying, “Hate to interrupt the moment, but shouldn't we try the code?” They broke away hastily and Thomas felt embarrassment as he turned to see Minho smirking.
“Uh, yeah, you're right Min. Let’s try–” Newt started to say before they heard an all too familiar sound. The creature.
“Fuck–” , Minho yelled but was interrupted by Newt who cursed, “Bloody fucking hell! Hurry up and enter the code!”
Thomas, barely processing what had happened, took the notebook and started to type in the code. He threw a furtive glance behind him and wished he hadn't. This one had to be worse than all the other monsters they had ever encountered. Before, he had always tried to avoid making direct eye contact with them, to scared of what he would see, but in that moment it seemed inevitable. The first thing he processed were that its eyes were glowing. The design of the creature was mixed with mechanical parts which explained the screeching sounds it produced at night. Still, it was far enough away to buy them some much needed time.
Its legs dragged on the floor, similar to the sound of nails on chalkboard, making its presence unavoidable and fear settled at the pit of his stomach. Every time they had heard it coming in the past, they ran. In the many years that he had lived in the labyrinth, the creature had never made it that close intentionally. Thomas wished he hadn't looked. It was a horrible sight and his fingers fumbled while he typed in the word BLEED.
“Hurry up Thomas!” Minho cried out, desperately looking over his shoulder. Newt was rummaging in his backpack for some sort of weapon to defend himself with. Eventually he gave up and grabbed a sharp stone from the floor, his expression fierce. “We are not fucking dying now!” Newt said angrily, gripping the stone tight enough his knuckles turned white, “Not after going through all this shit!”
Thomas finished typing in STIFF but there was one more word. PUSH. A sharp panic hit him. The screen did not let him type the last word in. He risked another glance over his shoulder and his heart stopped. The creature had reached the end of the previous passage way and the distance started gradually closing, allowing them to hear its haunting wails.
“Minho! Help me! I can’t enter the last word. It says I have reached the limit!” Minho dropped his stick and rushed over. Quickly he scanned the keyboard and without hesitation touched the ENTER button. “It's here…" Newt was muttering to himself, too scared to speak any louder. Sure enough it was just a few feet away. Suddenly the screen disappeared and the stone wall shifted, opening up a pitch black tunnel. “Go in!,” Minho shouted and shoved Thomas and Newt inside. They stumbled in and watched as Minho tried to push the creature back as the doors were closing. With a final burst of strength and Thomas helping Minho, they managed to push the monster away, and the stone walls closed with a resolute bang.
Inside the new passageway, there was not a single ray of light. It felt like the tunnel where he and Newt had wandered into to find Minho before. Absolute darkness.
The only sound was their heavy breathing and then Thomas felt laughter welling up in him. Hysterical laughter until he couldn't stop. Silence met his laughter before the three broke down together until they weren't sure if it was laughter or tears. They remained together, leaning against each other for support, completely breathless.
Thomas took a deep breath before cutting in, “We- we should get moving. What if the passage opens again?” He felt Minho nod, then sigh beside him saying, “We don't know how unlikely that is, you're right, let's move.” Suddenly, Thomas thought he saw a speck of light in the distance, only if he squinted.
He blinked trying to clear his vision to figure out if he was hallucinating, but still, the speck remained. “Guys, tell me if you see a light.” “I hope you don’t mean the light because then we are all truly fucked.” Minho said sarcastically. Newt walked over to stand next to him, his arm brushing his lightly.
“I think so,” Newt whispered. “You're not joking right?” Minho asked, and he heard him walk forward. “Well then what are ya waiting for shanks! Come on!” he urged before walking further into the tunnel.
“Let's go,” Newt said, snapping Thomas out of his daze and pulling him along by the hand, his grip reassuring. They quickly noticed that the light at the end of the tunnel was… sunlight. They hadn't seen that directly in a long time. Memories threatened to burst from Thomas but when he tried to grasp them, they would vanish, always out of reach. It was like trying to grab wisps of clouds and finding nothing.
Their steps gradually grew faster and the tunnel's end view grew bigger, eventually growing into the scenery of a dense, lush forest. They halted to stop a foot away from touching the grass. The sun was so bright, and their eyes were adjusting to it after the dark labyrinth. They were stunned into silence. That was it. They were out. Free.
After all those years, they left just like that? Now, what awaited them out there? Their families? Their normal lives? Where were they? Thomas felt as if he would pass out from all the worries and questions he had.
“That’s it!” Thomas whirled around and found Minho fuming. It surprised him, Minho was never angry. “After all this time we are out! Just like that?!” Minho continued, his hands in the air. Newt just stood dumbfounded by his side, taking in his surroundings.
“Look Minho, I get you're angry, so am I, but it doesn't matter anymore. We're free.” Thomas told him, trying to calm him down. Minho took a deep breath and visibly forced himself to relax. He gave them a sad smile and said, “Shall we?” beckoning towards a worn path leading into the greenery. He could hear birds chirping and the sound of the rustling leaves.
“Yeah, l-lets go.” Newt stammered turning in awe around them. For the first time, Thomas got to see him closely and not in the dim light that filtered through the cracks of the labyrinth or the artificial lighting of the tunnels. Newt’s eyes grew lighter. Like gold, he thought to himself. His smile brightened the entirety of the daunting forest.
Thomas glanced at Minho and noticed that his black hair gleaned obsidian beneath the afternoon sun. Thomas smiled as he looked at them. They were going to be alright because they had each other and hadn't they overcome so many things together already?
“Come on Tommy!” Newt called to him excitedly, already up ahead, his steps much lighter and smile beaming. Grinning, Thomas caught up to them as they faced a mountain in the far distance. For once, Thomas didn't look back.