ACT II SCENE XXVIII
SISYPHUS

   CASSANDRA SAT next to Minho on the floor, with Thomas on her left and Newt on his other side. They stared at the Rat Man, willing him to start explaining himself with their eyes. Minho sighed impatiently.

"I think we've all gone psycho...like those, what'd they call themselves? Cranks. The Cranks at the windows." He scowled distastefully. "We're all sitting here like kids at school waiting for Rat Man to give us a lecture. I bet you we're not gonna like it—if he had anything good to say, he wouldn't need a freaking magic wall to protect him from us, would he?"

"Yeah, tell me about it," Thomas muttered, rubbing the angry red mark on his forehead. He'd been the next victim to hit his head against the invisible wall earlier.

"Just slim it, man," Newt whispered. "Maybe it'll all be over."

"Yeah, right," Minho retorted. "And Frypan's gonna start having babies, Winston'll get rid of his monster zits, and Thomas here'll actually smile for once."

The boy turned and beamed a fake smile, eyes crinkling up. "Happy?"

"Dude. You are one ugly shank."

Cassandra held her fingers up at him. "The power of the lord compels you."

Thomas rolled his eyes, face dropping back to his usual sombre mask. Newt shushed them up again. "I think it's time."

They turned their attention back to the front where the man had placed his feet back down to the floor. He leaned back, pulled out a drawer and picked out a messy folder.

"Ah," he intoned, then finally looked up at them. "Thank you for gathering in an orderly manner. Please listen carefully. I'm sure you know by now that everything that has happened to you is for the sole purpose of analysing your responses. And yet it's not much an experiment than we are...constructing a blueprint. Stimulating the Killzone and Point Zero to collect the resultant patterns, putting them together to achieve the biggest breakthrough of science and medicine."

Thomas turned to Cassandra and mouthed to her, "Point Zero!"

She responded with widened eyes as the man continued, "I represent a group called WICKED. Now, it may sound menacing but I assure you, we exist for one purpose alone: to save the world from catastrophe." Someone snorted loudly from the back.

Minho rolled his eyes. "Why don't he say that without his shuck wall?"

"The Maze was part of the Trials. Not one Variable was thrown at you that didn't serve a purpose for our collection of Killzone patterns. This includes manipulating your minds. Your escape was part of the Trials. Your battle against the Grievers. The murder of the boy Chuck. The supposed rescue and subsequent bus ride. All of it. Part of the Trials."

Thomas started to get up beside her but Newt pulled him back down quickly. No one made a sound as he paused, or maybe they didn't want to. Rat Man steepled his fingers under his chin, his gaze drifting around the room until it landed on Cassandra and she shivered inwardly.

He told them more about the Maze Trials, how it was part of something bigger than they could see. Then he was talking about the Sun Flares, how it ravaged the earth, and the virus that was now named the Flare that came in the aftermath of the devastation. He told them that they all had it too and a few gasps echoed around the room.

"What the buggin' hell is he talking about?" Newt whispered. "We're sick?"

Rat Man cleared his throat. "Phase Two. The Scorch Trials. It officially begins tomorrow at six o'clock. You'll enter this room and in the wall behind me you will find a Flat Trans. Each of you must step through it by five minutes after the hour. Do you understand?"

They nodded their heads in assent. "Good." He picked up a piece of paper and turned it over. "At that point, the Scorch Trials will have begun. The rules are very simple. Find your way to open air, then head due north for one hundred miles. Make it to the safe haven within two weeks' time and you'll have completed Phase Two. At that point, and only at that point, you'll be cured of the Flare. If you don't make it, eventually you'll end up dead."

There was more silence, as no one really knew where to begin. Rat Man snapped his file close. "Oh," he said with an air of finality, "you don't have a choice. If you don't go through the Trans, those who remain will be executed in a most...unpleasant manner. Better taking your chances in the outside world. Good luck to all of you."

With a last warning glance, he turned his back on them. The barrier that had kept him separated started to fog up and a few seconds later, it disappeared entirely. They stared at the now empty half of the common room, whatever trace of the Rat Man and his desk now gone. Everyone blinked dumbly.

"Well, shuck me," Minho voiced.

Thomas immediately stood up and headed in the direction of Cassandra's room. Everyone had descended into an all-out panic so she followed after the boy. The door to the bathroom was wide open and she saw Thomas leaning over the sink.

"They're all acting like a bunch of babies." He scowled. "Can't they see it's useless to talk about it? We all know what we got to do."

"Well, ain't you Mr. Happy?" Minho came over and leaned against the door frame. "Look, man, those shanks are just as brave as you are. Every last one of us will go through that...whatever he called it—"

"Flat Trans," Cassandra provided.

"Flat Trans—" he continued with a nod of thanks, "—tomorrow morning. Who cares if they wanna crack their throats yappin' about it?"

"I never said jack about me being braver than anyone." Thomas frowned. "I'm just sick of hearing people's voices. Yours included."

Minho snickered at him. "Slinthead, when you try to be mean, it's just freaking hilarious."

"Thanks." He paused. "The Flat Trans...it must be some kind of doorway. Something like the Cliff. It's flat and it transports you somewhere. Flat Trans."

"You're a shuck genius," Minho commented dryly. Cassandra stopped herself from snorting in laughter. Thomas's brain had obviously been malnourished as well from the last three days.

Newt came in then and walked forwards to join them. "Why are you guys hidin' in here?"

Minho slapped Thomas' shoulder. "We're not hiding. Thomas is just havin' a mid life crisis."

The blonde sighed. "You two went through the Changing. Know anythin' about what the shank said?"

Thomas shook his head. "I can't really picture how it is out there or the people I helped design the Maze with. Most of it is either faded again or just gone. I've had a couple of weird dreams, but I don't think they help any."

Newt turned to Cassandra and she frowned in thought. "I only remember wastelands for miles around, broken cities and only remnants of life. Those...Cranks, I guess. They're everywhere, and they're dangerous. The ones you saw at the windows probably weren't even Gone yet but—"

"Gone?" Thomas interrupted her. "What do you mean by Gone?"

"It just...came to my mind then." She shrugged. "Gone. As in...there's nothing human left in 'em. They're Gone."

He looked at Minho and there was a hint of awe on his face. "I remember her saying that back at the Cliff. Her prediction—this must be what it was referring to. If we don't get the cure, we'll be Gone too."

"I already said you were a shuck genius, Thomas."

"Anyway," Cassandra continued, "the memories I have are almost a decade old, it might be a lot worse out there now."

"We need to prepare then." Newt nodded resolutely. "I need to make sure the bloody food's not gone before we leave tomorrow. Something tells me we're gonna need it."

"People are still eating?" Thomas asked in surprise.

"They've stopped for now." Newt threw a glance over his shoulder. "And Frypan took charge of it all, that shank's religious about food. Or maybe he's just trying to protect the cookies, but I'm scared people might panic and try to eat it anyway."

"Oh, come on," Minho said. "We all got this far for a reason. The idiots are all dead by now."

"I hope so," Newt responded. "I think we need to get ourselves organised again, like back in the bloody Glade. Last few days have been miserable, everybody moaning and groaning, no structure, no plan. It's driving me psycho, man."

Cassandra snickered at his plight. "No wonder you're the Glue, Newton."

"What'd you want us to do?" Minho asked. "Form up in lines and do push-ups? We're stuck in a stupid three-room prison, dude."

Newt swatted his hand through the air. "Whatever. I'm just saying, things are obviously gonna change tomorrow and we gotta be ready to face it."

"What are you getting at, Newt?" Thomas asked, pulling his eyebrows together in confusion.

The blonde paused and his gaze turned to him, then to Cassandra, and finally to Minho where it stayed. "We need a solid leader when tomorrow comes. There can't be any doubt who's in charge."

"That's the lamest shuck thing you've ever barked." Minho shook his head in disagreement. "You're the leader, and you know it. We all know it."

Newt continued to stare at him stubbornly. "You think the tattoos are just bloody decorations?"

"Oh, come on," Minho groaned in dismay. "They're just messing with our heads, man. They're probably just more Variables."

"The Leader," Newt declared. "With a big fat 'The' in front of it."

Minho shrugged him off and crossed his brawny arms. "Yeah, are you gonna start oozing crap from your fingers and sticking us together in a lump?"

"Do you really believe them, Newt?" Cassandra looked at him worriedly.

"They're definitely there for a reason." He gestured. "And not everyone has 'em, so we must have gotten chosen or something."

Her hand automatically reached up to rub the side of her neck before she realised what she was doing. She immediately put it back down. The Tragedy—she didn't even know what it was supposed to mean. Was she going to die a tragic death or something?

"Tell him, Cass." Newt gestured. "Tell him he's the bloody Leader."

"You're the bloody Leader," she repeated and Minho closed his eyes in a vain attempt to stop himself from rolling them.

"Look, man, why are you messing things up?" He shot the blonde an exasperated glare. "Everyone already knows you're in charge and—"

"They follow you too, though," Thomas interrupted. "You were the Keeper of the Runners, that's still a big deal. And when we fought the Grievers at the Cliff, you were the one who led us in, gave the orders. They'll follow you without a doubt."

"It's not about that, dude." Minho slumped his shoulders then ruffled his hair up in frustration. "This ain't right."

"We don't have much of a choice, Minho," Cassandra said. "Like Rat Man said, everything's been planned from the very beginning."

"Yeah, that makes me hate it even more." He scowled deeply then sighed, looking back to Newt. "Fine, I'll be the shucking leader, you pansy shank."

"Good that," the blonde said with relief. "Now we can go and prepare for the journey."

Tomorrow, everything would change once again.

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