“what　else　would　i　have　meant?”

        thomas　had　a　hard　time　wrapping　his　mind　around　the　possibility.　“i　don’t　know.　i　figured　there　was　a　door　that　swung　shut　or　a　little　mini-wall　that　slid　out　of　the　big　one.　how　could　these　walls　move?　they’re　huge,　and　they　look　like　they’ve　been　standing　here　for　a　thousand　years.”　and　the　idea　of　those　walls　closing　and　trapping　him　inside　this　place　they　called　the　glade　was　downright　terrifying.

        chuck　threw　his　arms　up,　clearly　frustrated.　“i　don’t　know,　they　just　move.　makes　one　heck　of　a　grinding　noise.　same　thing　happens　out　in　the　maze—those　walls　shift　every　night,　too.”

        thomas,　his　attention　suddenly　snapped　up　by　a　new　detail,　turned　to　face　the　younger　boy.　“what　did　you　just　say?”

        “huh?”

        “you　just　called　it　a　maze—you　said,　‘same　thing　happens　out　in　the　maze.’”

        chuck’s　face　reddened.　“i’m　done　with　you.　i’m　done.”　he　walked　back　toward　the　tree　they’d　just　left.

        thomas　ignored　him,　more　interested　than　ever　in　the　outside　of　the　glade.　a　maze?　in　front　of　him,　through　the　east　door,　he　could　make　out　passages　leading　to　the　left,　to　the　right,　and　straight　ahead.　and　the　walls　of　the　corridors　were　similar　to　those　that　surrounded　the　glade,　the　ground　made　of　the　same　massive　stone　blocks　as　in　the　courtyard.　the　ivy　seemed　even　thicker　out　there.　in　the　distance,　more　breaks　in　the　walls　led　to　other　paths,　and　farther　down,　maybe　a　hundred　yards　or　so　away,　the　straight　passage　came　to　a　dead　end.

        “looks　like　a　maze,”　thomas　whispered,　almost　laughing　to　himself.　as　if　things　couldn’t　have　gotten　any　stranger.　they’d　wiped　his　memory　and　put　him　inside　a　gigantic　maze.　it　was　all　so　crazy　it　really　did　seem　funny.

        his　heart　skipped　a　beat　when　a　boy　unexpectedly　appeared　around　a　corner　up　ahead,　entering　the　main　passage　from　one　of　the　offshoots　to　the　right,　running　toward　him　and　the　glade.　covered　in　sweat,　his　face　red,　clothes　sticking　to　his　body,　the　boy　didn’t　slow,　hardly　glancing　at　thomas　as　he　went　past.　he　headed　straight　for　the　squat　concrete　building　located　near　the　box.

        thomas　turned　as　he　passed,　his　eyes　riveted　to　the　exhausted　runner,　unsure　why　this　new　development　surprised　him　so　much.　why　wouldn’t　people　go　out　and　search　the　maze?　then　he　realized　others　were　entering　through　the　remaining　three　glade　openings,　all　of　them　running　and　looking　as　ragged　as　the　guy　who’d　just　whisked　by　him.　there　couldn’t　be　much　good　about　the　maze　if　these　guys　came　back　looking　so　weary　and　worn.

        he　watched,　curious,　as　they　met　at　the　big　iron　door　of　the　**all　building;　one　of　the　boys　turned　the　rusty　wheel　handle,　grunting　with　the　effort.　chuck　had　said　something　about　runners　earlier.　what　had　they　been　doing　out　there?

        the　big　door　finally　popped　open,　and　with　a　deafening　squeal　of　metal　against　metal,　the　boys　swung　it　wide.　they　disappeared　inside,　pulling　it　shut　behind　them　with　a　loud　clonk.　thomas　stared,　his　mind　churning　to　e　up　with　any　possible　explanation　for　what　he’d　just　witnessed.　nothing　developed,　but　something　about　that　creepy　old　building　gave　him　goose　bumps,　a　disquieting　chill.

        someone　tugged　on　his　sleeve,　breaking　him　from　his　thoughts;　chuck　had　e　back.

        before　thomas　had　a　chance　to　think,　questions　were　rushing　out　of　his　mouth.　“who　are　those　guys　and　what　were　they　doing?　what’s　in　that　building?”　he　wheeled　around　and　pointed　out　the　east　door.　“and　why　do　you　live　inside　a　freaking　maze?”　he　felt　a　rattling　pressure　of　uncertainty,　making　his　head　splinter　with　pain.

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