Chapter 32 Chapter Thirty-Two Into the Darkness

Before dawn, Minho woke Thomas up.With a flashlight he motioned Thomas to follow him to the back of the house.Thomas immediately shook off his morning sleepiness, excited about the start of training.He crawled out of bed and eagerly followed his teacher, dodging glademen sleeping in the grass—the only sign that they were still alive was the constant snoring.The first twilight of dawn came on in the glade, turning everything into a dark blue blur.It was the first time Thomas had seen the place so peaceful. A rooster crowed from the house of blood. In a corner at the back of the big house, Minho took out a key from a crooked crack, and used it to open a dilapidated door, which was a small storage room.The anticipation made Thomas tremble slightly, and he guessed in his heart what was hidden behind it.Minho's flashlight flicked back and forth in the storage room, and he glimpsed some ropes, chains, and other sundries.Finally, the flashlight fell on an open box full of running shoes.Thomas almost laughed out loud, it seemed nothing special to him.

"Well, that's the number one supply we get," Minho said, "at least for us. They send us new ones through the teleportation box every now and then. If the shoes are bad, our feet get rotten." As deformed as a Martian." He bent down and fumbled among the shoes, "What size do you wear?" "What date?" Thomas thought for a while, "I...don't know." Sometimes, what he remembers and what he doesn't remember is elusive.He bent down, took off a shoe that had been on his foot since he came to the glade, and looked into it. "Number eleven."

"Oh my god, you idiot, your feet are really big." Minho stood up, holding a pair of clean silver shoes in his hand, "But it looks like we still have your size—man, these shoes can be used as boats It's done." "It's beautiful." Thomas took the shoes, walked out of the storage room, sat on the floor, and couldn't wait to try them on.Minho took a few more things before walking out. "Only walkers and guardians can get such shoes." Minho said.Thomas was too busy trying on the shoes to look up.A plastic watch fell on his lap. The black watch was simple in style, and only numbers were used on the surface to display the time. "Put it on and don't take it off at any time. It may be related to your life or death."

Thomas was happy to get a watch, and although the sun and shadows were enough for him to judge the approximate time, a traveler might need more accurate time.He clasps the watch on his wrist and goes on trying on his shoes. Minho then introduced him. "Here's a backpack, water bottle, lunch box, some shorts and T-shirts, and a few other things." He pushed Thomas, who looked up and saw Minho holding a pair of tights.They are sewn from shiny white cloth. "We call these bad boys running briefs that make you, uh, nice and comfortable." "Nice and comfortable?"

"Yes, you know, you..." "Yeah, got it." Thomas took the panties and the rest. "You've thought of everything, right?" "Two years of running like hell every day, and you learn what you need and what you should ask for." He began stuffing things into his own backpack. Thomas was taken aback. "You mean, still can ask? Ask for the equipment you want?" How could the people who sent them here be so generous? "Sure, just put a note in the teleportation box. Not that we always get everything we want from the creator. Sometimes we do, sometimes we don't."

"Thought to get a map?" Minho laughed out loud. "Yeah, tried and asked for a TV, but nothing like that. Those idiots don't want us to know how good life is outside the maze of horrors." Thomas had a doubt in his heart, is life at home really that good - what kind of world would allow people to let their children live like this?The thought surprised him, as if it had become ingrained in real memory, like a ray of light in the darkness of his mind, but it was gone.He shook his head, tied his shoelaces, stood up, ran around in circles, bounced a few more times, and tried on the shoes. "It feels great and I think I'm ready."

Minho was still squatting next to the backpack on the ground, and looked up at Thomas. "You look like an idiot, bouncing around like a stupid ballerina. No breakfast, no lunch box, no weapons in the bag - good luck to you." Thomas stopped dancing and felt only a chill. "arms?" "Weapons." Minho stood up and walked back to the storage room, "Come here, I'll show you." Thomas followed Minho into the small room.He dragged some boxes away from the back wall, revealing a small floor door in the ground.Minho opened the door, revealing a wooden ladder, leading into the darkness. "They're hidden in the basement so no idiot like Gary can find them. Come with me."

Minho walked ahead.The stairs creaked with every step.The two walked down a dozen steps.Despite the dust and strong musty smell, the cool air was pleasant.They stepped out into the mud, and Thomas couldn't see a thing.Minho pulled the cord and turned on the only lamp in the room. The room was larger than Thomas had imagined, at least thirty feet square.Shelves are placed against the walls, and there are several chunky wooden tables.As far as the eye can see, there are all kinds of frightening debris piled up everywhere.Wooden poles, metal spikes, large nets—like the kind used for chicken coops, coils of barbed wire, saws, daggers, swords.An entire wall is dedicated to hanging bows: wooden bows, arrows, replacement strings.This scene immediately brought back a memory in Thomas's mind - the scene of Ben being shot by Alby in the cemetery.

"Wow." Thomas muttered, making a dull buzzing sound in the enclosed space.At first the sheer number of weapons in the place frightened him, but he was a little relieved when he found that most of them were covered with a thick layer of dust. "Most of them are useless," Minho said, "but who knows! Usually we carry two sharp knives." He nodded to a large wooden box in the corner.The box was leaning against the wall with the lid open.Daggers of all shapes and sizes were stacked haphazardly in the crate, filling the crate. Thomas hoped most Gladeers didn't know the secrets in this room. "So many things seem dangerous," he said, "what if Ben had been down here before he went mad and attacked me?"

Minho took out the key from his pocket and shook it in his hand, making a jingling sound. "Only a few lucky guys have this." "But still..." "Stop complaining and complaining. Pick two. Be sure to pick two that are smooth and sharp. Then we'll have breakfast and bring lunch. Before we leave, I want to take you to the map room." Hearing these words, Thomas felt a surge of excitement—he had been full of curiosity about the low house ever since he first saw a walker walk through the door.He picked out a short silver dagger with a rubber handle, and a long black machete.His excitement then dissipated a little.Although he knew exactly what was beyond the clearing, he still didn't want to think about why he needed to carry a weapon into the maze.

Half an hour later, with enough food and drink, and with their equipment ready, they stood in front of the closed metal door of the map room.Thomas was itching so hard that he wanted to get in the house right away.Dawn has bloomed, and the gladeers are bustling with each other to start the day.The smell of frying bacon fills the air—Frypan and his mates are trying to satisfy dozens of hungry stomachs.Minho unlocked the door, turned the knob, and there was a clear click from inside the door, and he pulled hard.With a harsh sound, the heavy metal door opened. "You go first." Minho pretended to bow. Thomas didn't say anything, just walked in.Cold fear mixed with strong curiosity filled his heart.He had to remind himself not to forget to breathe. There was a damp and musty smell in the dark room, mixed with a strong smell of copper, he could almost taste it in his mouth.Distant and vague memories of sucking coins as a child came to his mind. Minho flicked a switch, and several rows of fluorescent lights flickered on, revealing the details of the room at a glance. The simplicity of the room's furnishings surprised Thomas.About twenty feet deep, the concrete walls of the map room were bare.A wooden table stood in the center, surrounded by eight chairs.Stacks of paper and pencils are neatly stacked on the desk.In addition to this, there are eight other boxes in the room, the same ones that hold the knives in the basement.The boxes were tightly shut and neatly spaced from each other, two against each wall. "Welcome to the map room," Minho said, "the most interesting place." Thomas was a little disappointed—he thought it would be more complicated here.He took a deep breath. "This place smells like an abandoned copper mine. It smells bad." "I kind of like this smell." Minho pulled out two chairs and sat down on one of them, "Please sit down, before we set off, I want you to remember two images in your mind." After Thomas sat down, Minho picked up a piece of paper and a pencil and began to draw.Thomas leaned forward to take a closer look, and found that he had drawn a large box that almost filled the entire sheet of paper.Then, he filled it with small squares, which looked like a tic-tac-toe board, with three horizontal and three vertical squares, all of the same size.He wrote the words "glade" in the center square, and then he wrote the numbers one through eight in the outer squares clockwise, starting in the upper left square.Finally, he scribbled random V's here and there. "These are gates," Minho said, "You have already learned about the gates in the open space, and there are four other gates in the maze, leading to the first, third, fifth, and seventh areas respectively. The door will not move, but the road there will follow the wall every night." After speaking, he pushed the paper in front of Thomas. Thomas brought the paper, fascinated by the maze's construction.While he was researching, Minho continued: "So, the Glade is surrounded by eight areas in the center, each a self-enclosing block that has never been cracked in the two years since the damned game started. The only thing that might come close The place to exit is a cliff, and that's not a good choice, unless you want to fall and be smashed to pieces." Minho patted the map, "Every night, the high walls of the entire area move—while our gates are closed , at least we think it was at that time, because we never heard the wall move at any other time." Thomas looked up, glad he had something to offer: "The night I was trapped outside the wall, I didn't see anything move." "The main passages next to the gate never move, only the ones further away." "Oh." Thomas returned his eyes to the slightly rough map, tried to imagine the maze, and carefully outlined the appearance of the stone wall on the pencil lines drawn by Minho. "We always have at least eight walkers, including guardians, and we designate one person for each district. We'll spend a whole day mapping out our respective districts, hoping that there will be an exit from this place, although the hope is slim—we Draw it after you get back, one page a day." Minho glanced at one of the boxes, "That's why, those boxes are full of maps." A depressing and terrible thought came to Thomas' mind. "Did I... replace someone? Was anyone killed?" Minho shook his head. "No, we're just training you—maybe one day someone wants to rest. Don't worry, it's been a long time since a walker has been killed." For some unknown reason, the last sentence made Thomas feel worried, but he hoped that his worry was not written on his face, and he pointed to the third district. "So... are you going to spend all day running through these little cubes?" "Funny," Minho stood up, walked to the box behind him, knelt down on the ground, opened the lid, and leaned it against the wall, "Come here." Thomas had already stood up, he looked into the box behind Minho.The case is large enough to hold four stacks of maps, each stacked to the height of the case lid.Thomas found that each one was very similar: a sketch of a square maze, almost filling the entire sheet.Scrawled in the upper right corner are the words "District 8," followed by the name—Hank—followed by the date, followed by a number.The last one had the number 749 written on it. Minho continued, "From the beginning we guessed that the wall was moving. Knowing that, we started keeping records. We always thought that comparing day-to-day, week-to-week would allow us to infer There was some kind of pattern. We did—the maze repeated the same layout every month. However, we didn’t find an open exit that would take us out of the cube, and there never was an exit.” "It's been two years," Thomas said, "haven't you guys ever despaired and ventured outside overnight to see if anything opens up when the wall moves?" Minho looked up at him, his eyes flickering with anger. "That's rude to say, man, really." "What?" Thomas was surprised—he didn't mean it at all. "We've been busy for two full years and you're asking why we're so timid about going outside for the night? A few people have tried since the beginning - all ended in death. You want to go out there for the night again Do you like to try your luck at survival again?" Thomas flushed with shame. "No, I'm sorry." He suddenly felt so stupid.Of course he knew—he'd rather go back to the Glade each night safe and sound than encounter the Griever again.Thinking of this, he shivered. "Yeah, okay." To his relief, Minho returned his gaze to the map in the box, "Life in the glade may not be good, but at least it's safe here. Plenty of food, Free from the Griever. There's no way we'd ask walkers to risk spending the night outside—no way, at least not yet, unless the patterns give us a clue that an exit will open, even if only temporarily." "Do you have an idea? Is there any progress?" Minho shrugged. "I don't know. It's frustrating, but we don't know what else to do, and we can't risk missing a day because somewhere there might be an exit. We can't give up, ever." Thomas nodded, relieved by the attitude.Things have come to this point, and giving up lightly will only make the result worse. Minho took out a few pieces of paper from the box, which were the maps of the last few days.He spread out the map and explained, "As I said, we compare day by day, week by week, month by month. Each traveler is responsible for mapping their own area. IMHO, we have not come up with any results. More Let's be blunt - none of us knew what we were looking for. Really failed, man. Very failed." "But we can't give up." Thomas repeated what Minho said just now in an indisputable tone.He used the word "we" without even thinking about it.He knew that he had truly become a part of the glade. "You're right, brother, we can't give up." Minho carefully put the map away, closed the box, and stood up, "Okay, we've been delayed here for a while, we must hurry up. In the first few days, You just have to follow me. Are you ready?" Thomas felt the nerves in his heart tense, and his internal organs pulled.This moment is at hand-they are really going to leave, no more words are needed, no more worries are needed. "Uh... yes." "No 'uh' here, are you ready?" Thomas met Minho's suddenly resolute gaze. "I'm ready." "Then let's run."