ACT II  SCENE LIX
NEREIDS

   "DON'T MAKE us use these," one of the women said, lifting her Launcher threateningly. "You have zero room for error. One false move and we pull the trigger."

"I bet I could take you on," Cassandra mocked but Thomas pushed her back.

The four men swung the strap of their weapon over their shoulders before grabbing their arms—one guard each. They pulled the teenagers out of the room with their Launchers still trained on them. Naturally, the Gladers refused to comply so easily.

"You need six armed guards to take care of four scrawny kids?" Cassandra laughed obnoxiously. "I feel so honoured. I bet we look so scary, huh? What? You not even gonna look me in the eye, big guy?"

"Get your filthy shuck hands off of me, shank!" Minho snapped and thrashed behind her. "I'm gonna shucking kick you where the sun don't shine—Hey! Shuck face! You damn butt ugly shucking shuck shank!"

"I hope your face gets bloody blown off by your own weapon," Newt growled while struggling vainly against his captor's grip. "I hope I'll be the buggin' one to do it. And then I'll laugh."

"Guys, stop it," Thomas groaned from the front. "You're going to get shot, I swear."

They ignored him and continued with their tirade as the guards dragged them down more empty hallways. Cassandra lost count of how many doors she'd visited in that day alone but there was one more waiting for them as the guards forced them to a stop.

One of the female guards walked forwards to swipe her keycard across the pad by the door, prompting it to unlock. She then pushed it open to reveal a completely normal bedroom with two sets of bunk beds and a kitchenette. A table and chair were pushed against the far corner with a tray of tea things sat on top of it.

"In you go." The guard waved. "We'll have some food brought to you. Be glad we don't starve you for a few days after the way you've been acting. Tests tomorrow, so you better get some sleep tonight."

The four men then shoved the Gladers inside and the door slid close right after. The click of the lock permeated through the air. Thomas took several deep breaths, then stumbled towards the door to pound his fists against it, screaming for someone to let them out.

"Oh, shut up," Cassandra moaned, throwing a packet of biscuits from the kitchenette at his back. "You're givin' me a shuckin' headache."

"Yeah, slim it, Tommy," Newt added. "No one's comin' to bloody tuck you in."

"Newt could do it for you," she said with a snicker.

"Be quiet you," the blonde retorted.

Minho sighed and plopped himself down on a bottom bunk. "Guess we missed our chance," he said. "We'll be old men or dead before your magical moment comes rolling along, Thomas. It's not like they're going to make a big announcement: 'Now would be an excellent time to escape, because we'll be busy for the next ten minutes.' We've gotta take some chances."

"Sorry," Thomas said, deflated. "It just didn't feel right yet. And once they had all those weapons in our faces, it seemed kind of pointless to waste the effort trying anything."

"Yeah, well." Minho kicked his foot up in the air before looking back at him. "So you and Brenda had a nice little reunion."

"Yeah, what'd she say?" Cassandra immediately asked.

"She told me not to trust them." Thomas frowned in consternation. "To only trust her and someone named Chancellor Paige."

"The Chancellor?" Cassandra frowned, exchanging perplexed looks around the room. "The Chancellor is the last person I'd ever trust."

"Didn't Brenda try to dupe us once before?" Newt asked.

"I don't think we can trust anyone but ourselves anymore," Minho said.

"I used to work for them too but you trust me, right?" Thomas pointed out and Cassandra gave him a significant look. "It doesn't mean anything. Maybe she had no choice, maybe she's changed. I don't know."

"Or maybe she's trying to worm her way into your little heart so you'd think she was telling the truth," she argued. "And isn't that the same situation with Teresa? You still don't trust her so what does Brenda have going for her?"

He shook his head, looking like he was done trying to figure things out, then his stomach rumbled. The boy trudged over to the mini fridge and opened it, grabbing some cheese sticks and grapes from its confines. They divided the portions evenly before stuffing the food into their mouths in silence. A while after that, a kinder looking woman dropped by with a trolley of pork chops and potatoes. The Gladers polished that up too, before settling themselves in bed.

Cassandra was lying down on a bottom bunk, her feet propped on Minho's legs as he sat at the foot of the mattress with his back against the wall. Opposite them on the other bunk bed sat Newt, and Thomas faced them in a chair by the table. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since the food came.

Minho was the first to break the silence. "Maybe we should just give in to those shuck faces. Do what they want. One day we'll all sit around, fat and happy."

Thomas snorted. "Yeah, maybe you and Cass will get married and have kids. Just in time for the world to end in a sea of lunatics."

Cassandra scoffed lightly. "Nah, WICKED's gonna figure out the blueprint and we'll all live happily ever after."

"I was gonna say that," Minho protested.

"That's not even funny," Newt said unhappily and she felt slightly guilty about that. "Even if they did find a cure, you saw it out there in the Scorch. It's gonna be a buggin' long time before the world can ever get back to normal. Even if it can—we'll never see it."

"After everything they've done to us, I just can't believe any of it," Thomas said.

Cassandra pulled up the sleeve of her shirt and showed them the scars criss-crossing her arm. The biggest one on her neck was in plain sight for the entire world to see. "WICKED did that and that's not even the beginning of it. I hate them and I'll never do anything they tell me to."

"Amen," Minho agreed.

"That Janson guy thinks he has it all figured out," Thomas said and it felt weird to hear the Rat Man's real name out in the open. "He thinks it all comes down to some sort of greater good. Let the human race kick the bucket, or do awful things and save it. Even the few who are immune probably wouldn't last long in a world where ninety-nine-point-nine percent of people turn into psycho monsters."

"What's your point?" Minho asked.

"My point is that before they swiped my memory, I think I used to buy all that junk. But not anymore."

"Great." Cassandra yawned. "I'm proud of you, Golden Boy."

"Let's not waste our next chance," Newt told them.

"Tomorrow," Minho proclaimed. "Somehow, some way."

"Okay." Thomas nodded and looked at each of them for confirmation. "Somehow, some way."

Newt started to yawn as well. "Then we better quit yapping and get some buggin' sleep."

Cassandra closed her eyes and felt Minho squeeze into the space between her and the wall, his arms wrapping around her snugly. She heard Thomas stand up and climb the opposite bunk bed above Newt. The creak of the springs as the mattress shifted punctuated the air. In mere seconds, she had already fallen asleep.

She watched as her father taught Minho how to aim and shoot a slingshot. It was one of the last happy memories that she could remember having after the Sun Flares. It was a fleeting and transient kind of happiness, like the summer breeze that blew through her dark hair. Her mother stood by the entrance of the wooden hut they shared, her eyes crinkled with a wide smile.

Cassandra picked up a dandelion and blew the fluffy seeds into the air, watching them disperse over the ground. Minho continued to shoot rocks against the trunk of a tree a few feet away, the sound of them bouncing off the bark resounding around her heavily.

Thump,
thump,
thump.

Then she was running, her heart racing in her chest, pushing her muscles to their utmost limit. It was a matter of survival—to stop would mean certain death. The dried brittle branches cut through the upper layer of her skin in thin lines, but she ignored them. Minho was yelling, but she barely understood his words over the sound of her own laboured breaths rasping in her ears.

Sharp cries and the beat of footsteps against the hard red ground followed wherever they went. Living nightmares chasing after them. Their eager hands sought to dig themselves into their flesh, decaying teeth aching to satiate their hunger. On and on they ran, the meaning of safety now an abstract concept and lost to time.

Thump,
thump,
thump.

The past melted into the present and converged with the future. She saw Thomas and Newt standing back to back amidst a barrage of electric arcs. Minho yelled orders as he hunched behind a wooden crate before darting around the side to join his friends. Cassandra knew what she had to do to protect them, cocking her Launcher to set another charge. But before she could send a grenade shooting into the center of an oncoming guard's chest, someone pulled her from the back. She turned around to find Teresa yelling at her to get on the Berg.

Behind them, she could hear the metallic humming of thruster engines as the heavy air vehicle ignited to life. The spinning of rotor blades created a small hurricane within the confines of the hangar, whipping hair about their faces. Sonya ran forwards from the inside of the cargo hold, slamming her fist against the side while yelling at them to hurry.

Thump,
thump,
thump.

The door to the room flew open and Cassandra rolled off the edge of the bed. She let out a cry of pain as she hit the floor before scrambling back up to her feet, gripping the metal frame of the bunk bed for support. The same six guards stormed into the room with their Launchers hot and ready. The Rat Man strode in after them, looking pristine and put together as usual.

"Rise and shine, boys and girl," he said obnoxiously. "We've decided to give you your memories back after all. Like it or not."

Cassandra raised her right fist up with her middle finger extended. "Go shuck yourself, slinthead."