ACT III  SCENE LX
PROTEUS

   "YOU NEVER fail to disappoint me, Cassandra," the Rat Man said.

"Thank you, I consider it an achievement each time I do," she responded with a smile.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Newt demanded furiously, sitting up in his bed and swinging his feet onto the floor. "No bloody way you're taking us."

Thomas and Minho fumbled out of the bunk beds to join them, the former looking completely dumbfounded. He finally managed to compose himself as he looked around to process what was happening. "You told us we didn't have to," he said accusingly.

"Another lie from WICKED?" Cassandra feigned a gasp. "What a shock!"

"I'm afraid we don't have much of a choice," Janson told them. "The time for lies is over. Nothing's going to work with you four still in the dark. I'm sorry. We need to do this. Newt, of everyone, you will benefit the most from a cure after all."

"I don't care about myself anymore," the blonde spat.

The Rat Man seemed to take a different approach with them by softening his stance. "Look, Cassandra, Newt, Minho, Thomas. I understand how you must feel. You've seen some awful things. But the worst part is over. We can't change the past, can't take back what has happened to you and your friends. But wouldn't it be a waste to not complete the blueprint at this point?"

"Can't take it back?" Newt yelled. "That's all you have to say?!"

"Why don't you ask Helenus?" Cassandra asked him icily with a resentful glare. "Ask him what he thinks about your precious blueprint."

"Hey! Watch yourselves!" Two guards stepped forwards and aimed their Launchers carefully. A tense silence filled the room at their showdown of wills. "We're running out of time," the Rat Man snapped. "Now let's go or we'll have a repeat of yesterday. My guards are willing, I assure you."

"Follow my lead," Minho told her before speaking out loud. She blinked, almost forgetting about the connection they had. "He's right, guys," he said softly. "If we can save you, Newt—and who knows how many others—we'd be shuck idiots to stay in this room a second longer."

"Minho!" Cassandra protested, throwing him a look of outrage. "You can't be serious?!"

He took her by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. "I can't risk even the slightest chance of losing you too, Cassie." He sent her a mental wink before turning to the others. "Come on. Let's go."

"Has he gone bloody insane?" Newt asked as they watched Minho walk past the Rat Man and out of the room.

"Let's just do what they say," Thomas said, apparently getting the hint. "I used to work for them, I couldn't be totally wrong, right?"

He sent them a furtive wink and Newt rolled his eyes while muttering, "Oh, please."

"Shut up, Thomas," Cassandra told him, making herself visibly fume as she stalked after Minho.

"You'll all be heroes when this is all over," the Rat Man told them.

Thomas pointed at him. "You, shut up."

The Rat Man tried to cover the scandalised look on his face but his acting skills were far inferior to theirs. He then led them through the winding corridors of the facility again, narrating the interior architecture to them at length. Apparently, the reason why the building was so boringly bland without any windows was because of the often harsh weather conditions they had to endure and the bands of roaming Cranks that liked to gatecrash—literally.

Cassandra remembered snippets of her caged youth, the cold winter storm beating against the square glass of the old room she used to share with Minho. There was a pit that she recalled with oddly perfect clarity that they had been forced to go through once. At the end of the pitched black tunnel had been barred caverns that housed dozens of Cranks clawing through the darkness and shrieking for deliverance. It gave her a ghostly chill.

"We had a break in through our outer perimeter that very night in the rainstorm when you folks escaped the Maze, do you remember that?" the Rat Man asked.

Cassandra wished she didn't but ever since she had broken through the barrier in her memories before leaving the Scorch, she remembered the battle they had in the Maze. It plagued her sleep with nightmares and she would often wake up in a cold sweat. The shock and trauma had left her body, but the visions continued to haunt her mind.

"No, and I really wish you would just shut your mouth," Newt snapped in irritation and the Rat Man fell quiet for the remainder of their walk back to the operation rooms.

"I hope you will all cooperate today." The Rat Man stopped to address them. "I expect nothing less."

"Where are the others?" Thomas asked.

"The other subjects have been recovering—"

Newt suddenly launched himself on the Rat Man, grabbing him by the front of his suit coat and slamming him against the wall. "Call them subjects again and I'll break your bloody neck!" he screamed.

Two armed guards pulled him away and slammed him into the ground, Launchers pressed against his head.

"Get off him!" Cassandra yelled, instinctively throwing herself at the woman that held Newt down. The other guard easily grabbed hold of her arm, twisting and locking it behind her back. She cried out in pain and fell to her knees as the man drove her off balance.

"Cassie!" Minho started but halted when another Launcher was shoved into his face.

"Stop!" the Rat Man ordered as he smoothed out his shirt. "Don't disable them. Let's just get this over with."

"Don't call us subjects," Newt said as he was roughly brought back to his feet. "We're not mice trying to find cheese. And tell your shuck friends to calm down—I wasn't gonna hurt you. Much."

"I can't say the same for myself." Cassandra sneered.

"Newt, Minho, Cass," Thomas called softly. "I think he's right. I think it's time we did what we're supposed to do. We all agreed to it just last night."

Cassandra looked at him with biting intent. She was so ready for this, it even surprised herself exactly how ready she was to fight them. Her muscles were tight as a trigger wire that ignited into action when Thomas swung his elbow back into the face of the guard behind him. Cassandra moved fluidly, ramming the back of her head into the guard that held her. She heard the crack of bone cartilage as she broke the man's nose, before quickly ripping her arm out of his grasp and dropping to the floor. A quick swipe with her leg threw the guard off balance and he fell backwards with a resounding grunt.

Chaos ensued as everybody scuffled with one another. Newt was having a tug of war with a guard over his Launcher and Minho was punching another with his bare fists. Thomas lunged at a woman who had raised her weapon to take aim, knocking the both of them down to the ground. Cassandra kicked her guard under the chin, grabbing his Launcher and sending a lightning arc soaring through the air at the Rat Man. To her great chagrin, one of the guards threw himself in the way of the electric grenade, dropping to the floor in rigid convulsions as sparks ignited from his membranes.

"Oh, whoa," she exclaimed at the extent of damage the weapon caused. Then another guard knocked her off her feet, sending her sprawling on her back against the tiled floor. The Launcher disappeared from her hands, the butt of the stock ramming against the side of her head instead. Constellations burst forth in front of her eyes and it took all her strength to keep herself from screaming out loud. She scrunched her face up and gritted her teeth, balling her fists so tight that her nails dug into her palms.

"Give me the word!" a woman yelled. "A.D. Janson, give me the word! I'll fry her brain!"

"No!" the man shouted in panic. "Don't harm her! We need her intact!"

Slowly, Cassandra managed to pry her eyes open and focus her vision. Everyone else had been subdued by the guards; their riot had been fleeting.

"What are you people thinking!" the Rat Man roared. "You really think four...children can overpower six armed guards?! You kids are supposed to be geniuses, not idiotic...delusional rebels! Maybe the Flare has taken your minds after all!"

"Shut up!" Newt screamed from nearby. "Just shut your—"

His voice became muffled and Cassandra could imagine the guard smothering him into silence. "Don't you dare hurt him, you piece of—" The woman holding her pressed the Launcher hard against the side of her head so that she could feel the indent of its barrel against her skin. "—you piece of klunk. I'm not afraid of you. They've done worse to me, I've gone through worst!"

"Get them up!" the Rat Man barked, at the end of his tether. "Get them up now!"

Cassandra was pulled roughly back onto her feet, the Launcher continuously pressed against her skull. She could feel a bruise starting to form on her left cheek. Minho, Newt and Thomas were brought along as well, all weapons pointed in their direction as deterrence. The Rat Man continued to berate and scold them as they were forcibly dragged to the operation theatre.

"I was just a kid when they brainwashed me into doing things—into helping," Thomas suddenly recounted.

"I wasn't there in the beginning," the Rat Man said, lowering his voice. "But you yourself approved me for this job after the original founders were purged. And you should know, I've never seen someone, child or adult, as driven as you were." He turned around to smile.

"I hope you die in a pit," Cassandra growled.

"Of Cranks," Thomas added.

"Enough!" the man snapped again. "We'll do him first." He gestured to a guard. "Get a nurse down here. Brenda's inside—she's been insisting that she wants to help. Maybe they'll be easier to deal with if she's the technician working with them. Take the others to the waiting room—I'd like to do them one at a time. I need to go check on another matter, so I'll meet you there."

Not Brenda again, Cassandra thought irritably, wondering what on earth the girl could possibly want by always showing up. The guards holding Thomas started to pull him towards the room. "I won't let you do it!" he screamed hysterically. "There's no way you're putting that thing on my face!"

Another three guards, one of them being the guard that Cassandra had shot earlier, came up to help drag the three other teenagers away. Struggling was rendered futile and Cassandra could feel herself losing strength quickly, so she stopped fighting to take in deep calming breaths through her nose. Halfway towards the waiting room, they could hear the loud clicking of heels swiftly approaching them—it reminded her of a Griever without the mechanical whirring.

Dr. Clark rounded the corner up ahead and Cassandra blanched upon seeing her again. The pristine blonde woman sauntered towards them, bringing their entourage to a halt when she stood in front of their way. She pointed at Cassandra and said, "I'll be taking her."

"Like hell you will!" Minho snarled, starting to struggle against his captors again.

"Be quiet!" One of the guards struck him over the head with a Launcher and the boy fell short, grunting in pain.

"Don't hurt him!" Cassandra shouted furiously.

"Come on, hurry up," Clark called impatiently as she swiped her key card on a nearby door to an operating room. "We had to prepare the procedure especially because she's so special."

"What are you going to do to her?!" Newt demanded.

"Nothing untoward, I assure you," the woman replied with a malicious smirk. "In order to restore her memories, we need to replace the chip in her brain that's suppressing the virus. In fact, it's the closest thing we have to a cure right now. Would you like to try it out, Mr. Newton?"

"I'd rather die," he spat back.

"Shame." Clark clicked her fingers. "Get her inside, we're wasting valuable time."

Cassandra struggled vainly and tried to plant her feet firmly on the ground as the guards pulled her towards the door. She screamed and fought with everything she had while Minho and Newt were trying to do the same behind her. Two guards pushed her roughly into the room, closing the door with a slam before quickly throwing her against the bed. She glanced upwards and saw the masked device hanging above her, waiting to dig its mechanical tubes into her brain. Anger and fear flared in her chest and she struggled hard with another sudden burst of energy.

"Sedate her!" a guard shouted. They held her down as they secured the bonds around her wrists and ankles.

Clark calmly went over to the counter to pick out a sedative and administer it into a syringe. Cassandra felt her skin bruising from struggling so much. The doctor came back a moment later with an injection in hand. "You really will thank us once all this is over, you know," she said. "That is—I'm sure your friends will be grateful for your ultimate sacrifice. Nothing comes without a price, Cassandra."

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" she questioned, her voice wavering with a tremor of fear. She felt tears starting to prick her eyes and she swallowed thickly while shaking her head fervently. "How can you live with yourself?"

"You remind me a lot of her," Clark said unexpectedly. "My daughter. She was always so passionate and sincere—strong. That didn't save her from the Flare either. I'm starting the procedure now."

"N-no!" Cassandra cried out as the doctor closed the gap between them. The nozzle of the injection was pressed against the thin skin on the inside of her elbow. Clark's thumb hovered just above the button. She was suddenly interrupted by the door splintering open and the woman turned sharply at the intrusion.

Cassandra looked up, her eyes widening in both surprise and elation. Then she winced when an electric blue grenade shot out in their direction, landing in the center of Clark's chest. Her high pitched screams echoed around the room, along with the sound of more Launchers being fired  Lightning arcs danced across the air with sizzling grace.

Finally, the electrical discharges dissipated to a mere crackle and Cassandra opened her eyes with a wide grin. Teresa stood at the entrance of the door, the Launcher in her hand smoking with dispensed heat, blue eyes burning with satisfaction. Behind her stood Aris and Sonya wielding their own Launchers, along with the other Gladers and Group B. They were a beautiful sight to behold.

"Come on," Teresa said with a smile. "Let's get out of here."