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Thomas: I've got this completely under control!

Minho: Is that why everything's on fire?

-✼-

"And nobody ever heard from anyone again, because they were all dead."

Across from me, Alby blinked. Thomas looked confused and a faint blush was on his pale cheeks. Teresa appeared mortified. The rest of our group— Newt, Minho, Chuck, Siggy, and Theo — didn't appear to be taking Gally's horror story well either.

"KILL ME!" Minho cried, dramatically holding his head in his hands. "KILL ME IN THE EYES! I never want to hear a word from you again!"

"Gally, that was the worst horror story I've ever heard in my entire life," Alby said to the black-haired boy. Despite his words, Gally appeared pleased with our sickened reactions.

"I thought it was great," he argued.

"You described someone getting sawed in half in the most morbid way humanly possible," Teresa pointed out with a shudder. "It's like you've seen it before."

"I wouldn't be surprised," I mumbled under my breath. Theo snorted a laugh.

"Really, Gally," Siggy began, "that was stupid. There wasn't even a plot— everyone just kept randomly dying!"

Gally shrugged. "Stupid beats boring."

Nobody wanted to leave despite the uncomfortable situation. We'd chosen the closet as our hiding place for a few months, now, slowly inviting more and more people who were good at keeping their mouths shut. The few nights we could all sneak in here were spent telling stories and laughing, but of course it was Gally's turn to share something, and he'd chosen to deeply disturb us all. He couldn't be older than twelve, but the kid had a serious knack for the morbid.

Newt yawned. It started a chain reaction, and soon all of us were following suit. None of us knew the time. We were just sure it must've been late because Gally's story had seemed to last a lifetime. I thought it would never end.

"Guess that's the signal," Minho said, scratching the back of his head as he stretched his arms. "Bedtime, folks."

Theo frowned. "I don't want to leave."

"They're going to get suspicious if we're all sleep-deprived tomorrow," Newt reasoned. "Rings under the eyes, and all."

Reluctantly, we all nodded and spaced our exits in carefully planned intervals. I felt my heart ache upon watching them go. Even if I could talk to them during the day, the night adventures were the only times where we could truly be ourselves.

In such a short time, we'd become such close friends. I didn't care that I'd only known them for a few years— it was already like they were my family. And I would follow them anywhere.

—

I was sure I was either dreaming or in the afterlife when I heard someone calling my name. It sounded soft yet slightly velvety, and definitely familiar. My subconscious soared toward the sound— the only sound in the otherwise silent ringing of my head.

"Dylan," the woman's voice repeated more clearly that time.

I sluggishly opened my eyes to see a brunette woman sitting beside my bed. Aside from deeply fatigued, I felt fine, which probably meant I still had my brain. If that had merely been another Trial, I was going to kick—

"Dylan, look at me."

I focused my gaze on the woman. With a start, I recognized her. "Ava Paige? Wh...What happened?"

"I left a letter with Thomas explaining everything," she answered cryptically. "I'm here to congratulate you on making it through the Trials. Although you were a mistake — an error, if you will — in our plans, you were able to provide us with so much information. With M.A.R.D's help, I believe we have more than enough data to complete our blueprint. Janson may disagree."

Ava stood, smoothing her pencil skirt. She appeared much older somehow, the lines on her face more prominent and gray streaks in her hair.

"Find your brother," she instructed. "He's down the hallway, and I gave him some supplies to get you by. Good luck."

She held out her hand and dropped something into my palm. My hearing aid.

Before I could thank her, ask questions, or think of anything else I could possibly say, she was gone.

Filled with sudden urgency, I put the hearing aid in its proper place and set the dial to high volume. I was able to detect every ruffle of sheets as I pushed myself to a sitting position. My strength had returned fairly quickly once I'd woken up, so I only had to rest for a moment before sliding to the floor and padding toward the door.

I pressed my bad ear to it. I couldn't hear any footsteps from outside, so I turned the dial down and carefully twisted the knob. I almost yelled in surprise at a figure standing right in front of me.

But it was only Thomas. His eyes widened at the door opening, then filled with relief once he saw me. Both of us scanned one another for injuries. I wanted to hug him, cry that we both managed to evade certain death again, but forced myself to stand still.

"She gave me a map," he breathed as a way of greeting. "They hid the other Immunes in the Maze."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me along with him before I could even begin to process his words. Then, we were running, but I could tell he was slowing his pace for my sake. A piece of paper was clenched firmly in his left hand. Sure enough, a map.

But why?

"Thomas, what the hell is going on?" I hissed. My heart gave a jolt with every person we passed, but they hardly seemed to look at us. A resounding boom came from the opposite direction. Maybe that was why.

"All those Immunes they captured are hidden in the Maze," he explained, shoving the map in my hands. I briefly studied the circles Ava must have drawn to direct our attention. One of them was indeed a Maze. The other, a tunnel. I couldn't tell what the final one was. "She wants us to get them out. We rescue the Immunes and get them to the Flat Trans— that's the third circle. The second is a tunnel to the Right Arm."

Thomas yanked me aside so I wouldn't crash into a wall as we rounded a corner. I looked up from the map to avoid another collision. My head was spinning, though I wasn't sure why. It could've been relief from the fact we weren't dead, confusion, or from the running.

We reached a long flight of stairs that descended into a basement of sorts. The map led us through a series of empty rooms until, finally, we stopped in front of a small door that opened to a dark tunnel. Several uncovered lightbulbs swung from the ceiling. The air smelled slightly of mildew and rust, but we followed it until we reached a ladder that had been marked on the paper. It brought us to a round metal door with a wheel handle.

Thomas had to push his entire body into the door for it to budge. With a grunt, he heaved it open and pulled himself out. Once I collapsed beside him, I glanced around. We were beside a rock in the barren, snow-covered area between the forest and W.I.C.K.E.D's complex. My coat had been taken from me at some point. The chilly air easily passed through my black shirt, causing me to wrap my arms around myself and shiver.

"What now?" I whispered, my teeth chattering slightly.

"We need to find the Right Arm," Thomas replied. "They made their own entrance to the buildings— probably those explosions from earlier, and that's where we need to go. Safety in numbers. We need to tell them where the Immunes are."

The storm from earlier had finally passed over the area. Lightning crackled in the sky as we sprinted as fast as we could to one of the back buildings, crouching low in an attempt to lessen the possibility of being seen. Thunder followed. I hadn't encountered a storm since the night I'd been struck and lost my hearing, so the sound caused my stomach to churn.

It took a series of tries before we finally found an opening. Hiding in half-frozen bushes that probably weren't obscuring us very well, we peered out and saw a mass of rubble strewn across the yard in heaps of insulation, concrete, and metal. Two people in civilian clothes were guarding the entrance— the Right Arm.

Just as I started to stand, a hand clamped over my mouth and a pair of arms dragged me backward. Only a muffled squeak came out when I tried to scream. I thought of a number of ways to get the person to release me and prepared to drop my weight, but the person knew what they were doing and lifted me off of my feet.

"Quiet, kid," a voice hissed in my ear. I stopped struggling immediately, too stunned to move.

"Brrrnnt?" I questioned against his hand. He shushed me again.

My eyes found Thomas, who was being held back by an unfamiliar man with black hair and a burly physique. He was staring at Brent with confusion in his eyes. However, my trainer must have given him some sort of signal, because my brother gave the smallest of nods.

"I'm very disappointed," Janson tsked as he came into view, hands clasped behind his back. "Looks like not everyone in my organization is on the same team after all."

I wanted to laugh. Little did he know, one of those traitors was standing right beside him.

Rat-Man signed in mock discouragement. "I guess we're going to have to do this the hard way." He pulled out a long, slender knife and held it up with narrowed eyes. "Let me tell you something, kids. I've never thought of myself as a violent man, but you and your friends sure have driven me to the brink. My patience has been stretched to a minimum, but I'm going to show restraint. Unlike you, I think about more than myself. I'm working to save people, and I will finish this project."

Thomas went slack in the muscular man's arms. I remained still, body tense in case there needed to be a sudden escape. Brent's body was braced as well. I could tell that although he'd picked me off of the ground, he was still trying to hold me as comfortably as he could. It made sense for Janson to send for him to capture me— what better person to make sure I couldn't easily escape than the person who trained me? But, unfortunately, Janson had walked himself into a trap.

"Good," the scientist said with a pleased grin. "No need to fight this. You should be proud. It will be you and your minds that save the world."

The man holding Thomas spoke in a rough, pompous voice. "We're going to let go now. Let out one peep and A.D Janson's gonna give you a nice poke with that blade of his. Understand? We want you alive, but that doesn't mean you can't have a few war wounds."

Slowly, Brent set me back on the ground and gave my shoulder a meaningful tap. Once Thomas was on the ground and the muscular man seemed satisfied, hell broke loose.

In a clean movement that would make Brent proud, Thomas swung his leg around and kicked Janson square in the face. As he fell, the black-haired man lunged toward my brother. Brent was already there; he punched the man in the jaw so his head snapped back violently.

I rushed toward Janson and stomped hard on his wrist so his fist opened. He cried out in pain, cursing me as I reached down and snatched the blade from his hand.

"Thomas!" I cried, preparing to hand him the knife, but Janson grabbed hold of my shin and tugged. The knife flew from my hand in slow motion. In the next instant, I crashed to the ground and was already rolling onto my back to kick Janson away from me. Even as he held on persistently, I continued jabbing my leg at him. "Get — off — you — bastard!"

Finally, my boot connected with his face and he gave a shout as blood erupted from his nose. I took that opportunity to slip from his grasp and scramble back to my feet. I stumbled almost blindly toward Thomas. Brent had knocked the black-haired man to the ground and was holding a protective arm over my brother. The knife gleamed in Thomas' hand.

"Just let us go," he commanded, voice strong and face set in determination. "Just walk away and let us go. I swear if you come after us, I'm gonna go crazy with this thing and won't stop stabbing till you're both dead. I swear it."

Janson hacked a laugh, pushing himself to his feet and spitting a wad of blood into the snow. His crooked nose was gushing blood— good. Maybe I'd broken it.

"You don't have the guts, kid," he snarled mockingly.

"You've seen what I can do," Thomas countered. "You've watched me in the Maze and in the Scorch."

The other guy scoffed as he also stood. "If you think we're—"

Thomas reared his arm back and threw the knife in an eerily similar fashion to how Gally had. I watched it cartwheel through the air and eventually slam into the man's neck. For a moment, there was nothing except his shocked expression. Then crimson was gushing from the wound and he dropped to his knees, mouth forming a perfect 'O.'

Janson's face was a mixture of horror and anger. "You little—"

"Go!" Brent urged, pushing both of us to get us moving. He ran behind us in case Janson got any ideas with that knife. However, I didn't think the scientist would even think of pulling the blade out to harm us with it.

"Thomas! Dylan!" Janson called after us. I could picture him shaking his fist. "Get back here!"

"Holy shuck, Thomas," I gasped, finally able to find my words. "That was awesome."

"Alessandro, Willa!" Brent shouted to the two guards by the gaping hole in the wall as we careened toward it at full-speed. They scrambled to their feet at the sight of us. We skidded to a stop in front of them, Brent placing his hands on our shoulders. "These are the kids."

"About time," the man of whom I guessed was Alessandro drawled. Then, he addressed Thomas and I. "They've been looking all over for you. But you're supposed to be in there."
He jabbed a thumb toward the hole. "And where have you been, Arson? You disappeared— we thought you died."

"Janson just got a surprise when he found out I'm not on his side," Brent replied in a slight huff.

At that moment, we turned around and saw Janson sprinting toward us at top-speed. The rage twisted his face in an unnatural manner, creating a haunting expression that chilled my bones more than the frigid air.

"Those kids... are property ... of W.I.C.K.E.D," he said through labored breaths, stopping a few yards in front of us. "Hand them over, Arson."

"I don't give a shit," Brent replied blankly. "They're not property of nobody. But you better get your scrawny behind far away from here if you planning on surviving, A.D— I've heard it's pretty rough in there."

Janson's face was bright red. "You people don't get it. Your self-righteous arrogance will be the end of everything. I hope you can live with that while you rot in hell."

He stormed away, probably to shake his fist at more people. Again, I found myself laughing despite myself.

"Us," I said, "rotting in hell? Rich."

"Where's Vince?" Thomas asked, ignoring my comment. "And our friends?"

"Slow down, kid," Willa replied. "Things are kind of quiet right now. People are getting into position, planting, that sort of thing."

"Planting?" he repeated.

"Planting."

"What does that mean?"

Willa smiled. We're making this place go ka-boom."

gif is thomas...idk...existing

——-

hi, brent arson is my spirit animal. you can't change my mind.

i don't have any questions for this chapter because it was mostly action, but i hope you guys are ready to see some familiar faces soon, including ones you may not like so much (;

my goal is to have everyone appear at least once before the end, so hold on tight to your seats because it's going to be a wild ride.

-kristyn