ACT I   SCENE XVI
PANDORA

   SHE WAS lying down on the bed pretending to be asleep. They usually left her alone when they thought she was asleep. She knew she was dreaming and the sensation still felt strange to her. It was ethereal, like she was only half-there. Everything looked and sounded like it was being filtered through a glass tube. A man and a woman walked into the room then whilst talking intently. She recognised their voices.

"The virus has taken a strong hold on her prefrontal lobe," Dr. Clark said. "But it seems to be spreading. Very slowly though, at an almost insignificant rate."

"So she's not completely immune?" the Chancellor asked.

"It's difficult to say at this stage," she replied. "She seems to be getting side effects; pre-cognitive ability."

"You've mentioned it before. Something like foresight?"

"Yes, it's truly remarkable," the doctor said excitably. "I've never seen such a thing before. The virus must be causing more neurons to fire—more brain areas to activate at the same time."

"Is she getting symptoms?" he asked warily.

"There was a minor episode two days ago," she answered. "But she recovered all composure immediately after. Chancellor, I think she may be the one."

"How quickly can you prep her?"

"We can do it now."

She heard the clicking of the doctor's heels approach the bed then a hand was shaking her shoulder gently. A sickeningly sweet voice called out to her and she turned away from it, shutting her eyes tightly. The dream started to melt away as her primary consciousness took control and her senses came back to full focus.

She was still lying down, but in a humid room filled with the musty damp of moulding wood. There was the familiar bleating of goats and pigs squealing outside. Mildew, grass and the faint scent of fried chicken from the kitchen. She loved the smells of the Glade, it felt of home and laughter. Sunlight penetrated through her eyelids and a new pair of voices spoke nearby.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Dunno."

"I'm guessing it's happened before?"

"Yeah."

"What's the Flare?"

"No bloody clue."

Shockingly, her body wasn't in any pain at all but she felt extremely dull and slow. Fighting against the enticing lull of sleep calling her back, she blinked her eyes open and turned her head to the side. Newt was there to greet her, his gentle face a welcome sight and she returned a tired smile of her own.

"How long was I out?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

"Not too long," he told her. "It's past midday now. You had a fever but Clint gave ya some meds. Does your head still hurt?"

"I feel completely fine actually," she said. "Just really tired."

He told her to get some more rest then slipped out of the room to grab her some food. She continued to lie there in a half-daze before she noticed movement in the corner of the room. Cassandra turned her head to find Thomas standing there, not really knowing what to do with himself. He shuffled forwards and sat on the chair hesitantly.

"Hey..." he started.

"Thomas..."

"I just want to know," he pleaded. "You seem like you know a lot."

"I hardly know anything," she told him and closed her eyes briefly. "I only remember bits and pieces here and there."

"But you remember me, right?"

She turned to look at him and his dark eyes begged her with a desperate urgency. She sighed. "I only know that you used to be one of 'em. They locked me in a room and experimented on me. You helped them."

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "Whatever I've done before, I'm really sorry. Please just tell me what's going on."

She took a deep breath and her eyes flicked back to his face. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she knew that Thomas wasn't actually a bad guy but she wasn't ready to come to terms with that just yet. The exhaustion made her temporarily weak and she almost spilled it all out to him if Newt hadn't just walked back into the room with food. She slowly pushed herself up to a sitting position and took the tray from him. Newt stayed by her side, fussing over her like a mother hen, which was pretty amusing.

"Where's Minho?" she asked. "Did they bring the Griever back with them?"

Newt frowned. "They're not back yet..."

"What?!" She started and looked at him with wide eyes. "No way, they should be back by now. The Cliff isn't that far away."

His frown grew deeper. "I know."

"Think something might have happened to them?" Thomas sat up straight. "Maybe they got attacked?"

She grimaced at the thought. "If they were attacked..."

"Or they could just be taking their sweet time to look around." Newt shrugged but she saw that he was worried as well. "We'll know when they get back."

Once she was done with her meal, Newt took the tray back from her. He shooed Thomas out of the room so that she could get some more rest and promised to come back in the evening. But she couldn't rest, not when Minho was still out there. She laid there for a long time; her body weighed down with lethargy, her mind a muddled mess.

The light was starting to dim outside and there was still no sign of the two boys back in the Glade. She mustered enough energy to haul herself out of bed and drag her feet to the window. Her hands unlocked the rusty hinges and she heaved them open to peer outside. The Gladers were all grouped around the entrance of the Maze, waiting for their Keeper and leader to return. Nervous anxiety started to seep into her system and her stomach clenched uncomfortably.

She glanced at her watch and felt her heart drop, then leaned out the window to strain her eyes at the crack in the Wall. It wouldn't be the first time that the Runner came back later than usual but this was cutting it too close. It didn't feel right. Suddenly, there was shouting and the Gladers started pointing into the Maze just as a loud rumbling crack sounded like a clap of thunder.

The sign that the Doors were closing.

Without thinking it through, Cassandra flew across the room and wrenched the door open. She pushed past Clint who had just come up to check on her and jumped down the stairs three at a time. Bursting through the door of the Homestead, she was sprinting across the Glade seconds later. There was a gap between the group of boys and she could see two figures in the distance. One of them was carrying the other over his shoulder.

Minho.

"Somebody stop her!" Clint shouted from the other side of the field.

Only a few people heard him and Thomas was one of them. He stood at the front of the group and turned his head to look back as she barrelled through the throng of boys, surprising herself with how much strength she could summon. The walls were closing in fast and it was already too late when Newt realised what she was doing.

She was racing against time yet everything happened around her with perfect clarity. Newt yelling at her to stop and Thomas grabbing hold of her shirt. Minho's eyes widening in horror as she squeezed through the metal bars.

Cassandra collapsed to the ground just as the Doors behind her shut tightly with a final resounding boom. She scrambled to the side and her stomach started to heave but nothing came out. Her entire body shook from its exertions and sweat slid coldly down her back. Alby cried out sharply from up ahead just as Minho collapsed to the stone floor groaning in pain. Someone behind her ran forwards to help them.

"What the shuck have you done?!" Minho cried out in dismay. "And Greenie, if you think that was a brave thing you just did by following her, listen up. You're the shuckiest shuck-faced shuck there ever was. You're as good as dead, just like us."

"I couldn't just stand there and leave you guys out here," Thomas started crossly.

"And what good are you with us? Whatever, dude. Break the Number One Rule, kill yourself, whatever."

"You're welcome. I was just trying to help," the boy replied, voice thick with sarcasm.

Cassandra whipped around to look at Thomas furiously. "Why did you follow me?" she demanded, temper flaring at him. "How stupid could you be?!"

"Like I said, I couldn't—"

"Ugh, Thomas! Have you heard nothing of what the others have told you?!" she growled reproachfully.

"Hey, you knew better than I did and you're here too!" he said indignantly.

"At least I'm a shucking Runner! You—" She stopped herself and looked down the long corridor into the Maze when she thought she heard a click. A chill crept up her spine as she looked back to Minho. The brevity of their situation had finally hit her hard and the paranoia settled in with it. "We can't stay here," she whispered.

Minho had managed to get up and grab Alby's arms. "Come here and help me with him."

"What are we doing?" Thomas asked eagerly as he moved to assist.

"Giving 'em at least one body to bury the next morning," Minho replied and that didn't seem to be the answer Thomas had been hoping for.

"Come on, stop being so depressing, both of you!" he exclaimed. "I'm sure we can think of something? Climb up the vines, maybe?"

Minho suddenly grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. "You don't understand, shuck-face! You don't know anything and you're just making it worse by trying to have hope! We're dead, you hear me? Dead!"

He then looked away from Thomas and scrunched his face up in shame. He let go of the boy and backed away. Cassandra could see the nervous tension vibrating through his body. Minho, who was always so brave and joked about everything, never hesitated to fight tooth and nail even when the odds were against him. He dropped to the ground and buried his face in his fists.

"Ah, man, oh man," he groaned. "I've never been this scared before, dude. Not like this."

"But you're both Runners!" Thomas exclaimed in frustration. "You know the Maze! You've met Grievers before, haven't you?! You can't give up!"

"This is different, man, you don't know," Minho said in exasperation.

Thomas opened his mouth to argue again but stopped. They froze in petrified silence and Cassandra felt her hairs stand on end. Low mechanical whirring resonated from deep inside the Maze. The clicking of metallic claws against the stone floor. A hollow ringing. The squelch of oozing flesh. She felt her pulse quicken and ice cold fear froze her limbs.

They were coming.

"We have to split up," Minho said quickly. "It's our only chance. Just keep moving. Don't stop moving!"

He shot forwards to grab hold of Cassandra's arm. She was still kneeling on the ground, eyes wide with terror as her body started to tremble. Her face was pale and she looked at him with barely concealed panic.

"Cassie, come on, we need to go."

She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "I-I can't... I can't move..."

"Yes, you can," he urged, eyes darting around nervously. "Cassie, come on. We need to go! We need to go!"

The desperation in his voice snapped her out it and spurred her into action. She forced herself to move, lifting her knee up and pushing against her left foot. Her body jerked upwards and Minho grasped her hand tightly. Cassandra stumbled before breaking into a lumbering run after him. They left Thomas and fled into the Maze.

Each vote and comment is used to supply a compass for poor Thomas.