Leo 1

I did not sleep, even when Ella lost her voice from screaming, and her voice became nothing but raspy hisses that scratched and burned the air. It is a cruel thing to be absent. At these times of the night, I used to creep out of my bedroom and wake Newt and sit with him for hours. The stars in the sky were fake, and I think I knew this, so we often pinned our bodies tightly in a corridor, waiting for dawn. Even staring at the ceiling was pleasant with him nearby. Now, I am stuck in this room, alone.

At some point, the soft sounds of all the other girls in this room have lulled into one cohesive whisper. One wave that swims across the room, rippling from one girl to the next. Every few seconds, the sounds become disjunct, and I am reminded that we are all separate people.

The door unlocks, and I sit up. I curl against the wall, trying to let the darkness protect me. Hinges creaking loudly, but despite the sound I can't see the figure at the door. My body is plagued by exhaustion from the long day behind us, so my eyes can't focus and my fingers are lagging. There is more than one person walking into the room, all silent.

They walk towards me, masked faces, and I am so frozen I try to scream but no sound comes out my lips. One places a gloved hand over my lips, with leather that smells bitter and is too thick to bite through. I grab at the figure's neck, but they shove me to the bed, and inject my arm with a syringe.

My eyes grow heavier, and I am shoved deep into the dark.

My head pounds and aches, and my eyes try to remain closed. Is this what it feels like to be sedated? Every inch of my skin is exhausted. I peel myself up, my sweaty skin sticking to the covers beneath me.

Where am I?

The walls of the room are yellow, and I'm on a bunkbed. I am in the same place they got me. I My hands fumble as I grab the railing. I sway slightly, trying to still my pounding skull, as my eyes adjust to the sleeping girl across from me. My eyes flutter from girl to girl, counting each one. Head stinging as I name them off. Dawn, Michelle, Ella. And Teresa is here too.

They didn't take anyone.

Why did they knock me out?

I slowly climb down the ladder, holding on as tightly with my fists as my shaky fingers can. My socks shuffle across the floor, muffled yet painfully loud. As I move around, I drop my belt, full of tools to heavy for my swaying hips. The people who brought us here laid out clothing next to the bed. A brown jacket, with wool lining, and jeans. Heavy boots lie at the end. I ignore the mess shuffle into the bathroom to change.

The walls to the bathroom are a clean white. The colour offsets my skin. It has been so long since I've seen my face. Freckles litter my skin, brought out by the sun of the Glade. There are a few cuts on my face, but they are healing well. My cheek bone, however, sports a large yellow bruise from where I landed on the ground while carrying Ella. I run my fingertips along the mark, tracing my skin carefully.

Have I always looked like this? This nervous and uncertain?

I turn out of the room, grabbing my clothes and bringing them back into the bathroom. I quickly change, ignoring the sinking feeling in my chest when I look in the mirror. When I come out of the bathroom Ella is still sweating and tossing and turning. I don't want to know what is going on in her head, though I want to understand. Then she moans, and Michelle takes the pillow out from under her head and throws it in Ella's general direction. Thankfully, Michelle misses.

"Get up," I tell Michelle, hushing my voice to try and keep her calm. "Something is wrong."

"Slim it," she mutters.

Dawn groans, rising in her bed. She yawns, before climbing down the ladder. Her foot stumbles, but she manages to catch herself on the ground. "How am I so shucking tired. I feel like I've slept for twelve years. What time is it?"

I check the watch on my wrist. "Like, 7:00?"

"Can't we sleep in for once?" Dawn asks, mulling through her pile of clothing. "Or are we still on some tight regiment Lee?"

"We were drugged last night," I tell her.

Michelle finally lifts her head, even though her eyes are still closed. Dawn's clothing hits the ground, dropped from surprise. If Teresa cares, she doesn't say anything. I only notice now that she is awake, and I don't know how long she has been awake.

"What?" Dawn asks.

The door handle starts jangling, and Michelle jumps down the ladder. Her knees fail her, as her body slams her against the ground. I move over to help her to her feet, while she shrugs me off. Dawn is already at the door, trying to hold it closed.

Michelle gets up, holding her hands in front of her in fists.

"What exactly is your plan?" Dawn demands, as the door smashes against itself. Her body jerks back and forth, over and over again.

Michelle shrugs, and it makes my stomach turn. The doors hinges are cracking. I would grab a bunkbed and shove it against the door, but there is no time. Instead, I pull the scissors out of my belt, thankful I didn't toss them aside.

For a second, someone stops, and I think the banging might go away.

"What do we do about Ella?" Dawn hisses, glancing back at the bed. She then glances over at Teresa. "Some good help you are."

I ignore her comment, trying to answer her question about Ella. There isn't much to do about her so I just hold the scissors, in my shaking hands, and the door starts clicking.

In a few seconds, the log slides out, and the door handle moves. Michelle rushes to the door to hold it in. It slams from the other side, causing both of the girls to stumble back.

The door opens. On the other side stands a girl. I'd guess she's around my age, with a mouth agape. She has brown hair and skin and looks absolutely confused to see us in here. She backs away from the door, dropping her small tools on the ground and turning around to face the rest of the group.

"They're gone," she even seems confused by her words. She turns behind her to address the others. "They're gone."

I move towards the door, slowly. I grab the doorframe, peering out but puling myself back into the room. There are bodies hanging from the ceiling, bodies I don't dare look at. I try to calm my racing thoughts, refusing to search them. Who are they? Are they our friends? Is Newt there?

"What the shuck..." Dawn trails off.

I can hear a ton of people whispering. I can only make out their bodies through the hanging figures. All in pajamas, all of them holding weapons, and I'm the only one out of us who is dressed. Where are we? Why are there shucking bodies hanging from the ceiling, and where is everyone else?

A girl, around my age, pushes to the front of the crowd. Her hair is pulled into tight dreads, and she stares at me.

"Get out here," she tells us, strong and certain. "Get out."

I shake my head back and forth, and none of the others move. I realise that Michelle has recoiled from her position at the front, and now I am taking charge. At least, I'm supposed to be taking charge. That's always been my role since I'm less volatile than the rest of them. I don't know that I necessarily like this position though.

"You get in here," I tell the girl, trying to maintain eye contact with her despite her angry demeanor. "We aren't going out there."

"Not when you have shucking bodies hanging from the ceiling!" Dawn agrees, almost yelling with the shrill of her voice. It remains a whisper though and dies in silence.

"We didn't do that," their leader keeps her voice calm, despite the bodies hanging behind her.

"What did you do with them?" A blonde girl with a funny accent steps in closer to us. Her voice is identical to Newt's. The pair of them give me déjà vu.

We didn't do anything. I look back and forth between the girls, and even Michelle shrugs. What are they?

"The boys," she reiterates. "Where did they go?"

Boys? I spin around on my heels. "I could ask you the same thing."

She frowns, and so does the girl with the dreadlocks. Shaking her head back and forth doesn't quite show exactly how pissed off she looks. "This is stuck. They were in your room."

I don't quite understand some of the words they are using, but I think I'm beginning to understand. Teresa still stands near the back of the room. She won't come forward and won't make eye contact with any of them. I stare around at the beds. Six bunks, still, just like the room we were in last night. Yet, nothing has changed since they drugged us last night.

They moved us. Whoever was here before, is gone. They must be with Newt.

"We're replacing them," I say it to myself, but it only causes the girl to look at me like I have two extra heads on my shoulders. "You had five boys, correct? And now, they're gone?"

"What are you going off about?" The girl continues, her arms crossed over her chest. "Who are you?"

I don't know how to explain who we are. So, I step out of the room, into the maze of the deceased. The girl in front of me backs up as I approach her, though I don't blame her. I still have the scissor in my hand. I tuck them away.

"What's your name?" She asks me.

"Leo," I tell her. "Like Da Vinci."

Her eyelashes flutter, like the click of a camera, and she turns around to face her pack. Michelle and Dawn still haven't left the room, though Teresa is beginning to move out. She still hides against the doorframe, and some of the girls stare her down. I can't blame them since she is so pretty.

"Harriet," the girl with dreadlocks responds. "Like Tubman."

"Wait, are these shanks Gladers?" Michelle asks, breeching the barrier. She makes a face at the girl who broke the door down, before turning back to me. "They're from the Maze."

"You're Group A," Harriet points to the door.

There is a sign next to our room, with a list along the wall. Of subject numbers. B1, B57, B58, and B59. There are more of us.

"Where's Sheil?" One of the girl's steps out of the group. She has long curly brown hair, that essentially swallows her whole, and her voice is determined. "He's gone too, right?"

Harriet glances at her over her shoulder, and offers in a low voice, "Marie..."

"I have his insulin," Marie continues, ignoring Harriet. She begins to dig through her bag, on the ground, as if she has already misplaced it. "He'll die by the end of the week without it."

He's a diabetic and they have insulin? I always thought Ella might be epileptic, but obviously she's not. Otherwise, we'd have a drug for that. There has been another group here this whole time. It really was just an experiment.

"He's where we were, probably," I'm not sure, but I pretend to be. "They traded us."

"Who did?" Marie jumps in, peering around.

"WICKED ya stupid shank," Michelle rolls her eyes, finding her way into the room. Dawn is close behind her but avoids the bodies. "Who else would shuck up our lives like this?"

They still linger. These must be their rescuers, hanging from the ceiling. They are too old to be our friends. So many bodies. Though they wanted to leave me behind, the rescuers offered me nothing but kind faces when I got back. They fed us, and clothed us, and now they hang here, discarded bags. They're worth nothing.

Marie doesn't seem to respond. Neither does Harriet though. How do we get back to our group? Maybe we don't. That couldn't have been good-bye forever. We couldn't have just disappeared like that. It's not over.

Harriet glances around before sighing. "Let's just get all y'all sticks into the other room. Then we'll decide.

The girls seem to listen to her, as they filter around the hanging bodies. I try my best not to touch any as I move through them. Dawn pulls up next to me, wrapping her hand around my wrist.

"We say nothing about Ella?" She asks, unsure of the answer.

I nod. I'm not sure what we would say until I can trust them all together. Ella is an anomaly. "Who knows what these girls want."

Dawn agrees, clinging on to me until we get in the room.

They don't have beds in the next room, and their walls are darker. Along the ground lies dozens of sleeping bags. There are more girls in here then boys we had survive the Maze.

There is nowhere to sit, but the girls seem to follow a routine. They move against the wall, until their bodies coat it in a circle, leaving Harriet, the blonde girl, and the four of us in the center. There has got to be thirty of them, which is only five more than we had. Still, these girls are organized, and they came to kill.

Harriet seems to be circling us, like we are play. Michelle can keep her cool, but I can't.

"Relax, vulture," Michelle rolls her eyes. "If I wanted to shuck you up, I would."

Harriet says nothing. She maintains a firm and strong face, her feet planted far apart on the ground. "What's your name?"

Michelle doesn't answer, instead rolling her eyes. "Really, an interrogation?"

"We aren't the enemies here," Dawn calls out. "We didn't choose to be here, just like you bloody didn't."

They really aren't helping. I step closer to Harriet, addressing her. "Michelle's the ginger, the other is Dawn. That brunette is Teresa."

"So, you're from the Maze?" The other girl steps forward. The blonde one who talks weird; she seems to be their second. "The other Maze anyway."

I nod.

"Who are you?" Dawn asks, staring at the girl. Her eyes linger and linger.

"Sonya," she tells us. Her eyes scanning our faces. She lingers too long for me to be comfortable.

"Which one of y'all was the trigger?" Harriet asks.

Trigger?

Teresa nods, stepping forward. "I was the last. Covered in blood."

"Stuck," the girl in the center sighs. "It's the exact same. All of it."

I think we had that part figured out. Four came up, then one more. They don't seem surprised that there is only four of us though. As if, they too, were missing a fifth body.

"Who are you missing?" I ask.

"Aris," Sonya continues. "He's our trigger. Sheil, Lott, and Jay are gone too, but they came a while ago. Emil with them, a month before Rachel."

Rachel is there Thomas. "Which one of you is Rachel?"

Sonya flinches, before looking down.

"Rachel died," Harriet answers. She glances over at Sonya, lingering. "She was shot by Beth."

I hear the soles of Michelle's shoes rub against the ground. Beth was their Gally. Did they make her go crazy too? Did they make her shoot Rachel? Was Chuck's death Gally's fault, or was Thomas supposed to die instead.?

"Our Rachel lived," I tell them. "Thomas is alive. Our version of Beth shot someone else. WICKED forced him too."

"Beth was forced?" Another girl steps forward. Harriet shoots her a look, before she moves back against the wall.

A massive shriek erupts from the room over. Ella. I burst through the doors, running across the room into Ella's. She's on the bed, writhing in pain. I run over into the bathroom, to soak a cloth in water, before putting it over her head.

"Who is that?" Harriet demands, leering over top of us. The other girls are flooding into our room.

"Ella," Dawn answers. "She's the fourth girl."

"You failed to mention she was alive," Harriet cuts in. "I figured she would've died too."

I try to take Ella's pulse as she rolls around. Her hands scratch at my arms, and Sonya moves next to me, pinning the girl down.

"One of the boys is dead?" Dawn asks over my shoulder.

"That's really not the point right now," Sonya cuts in. "What's happening?"

"The Changing," I tell them. "It's the Changing."

"A what?"

"A Griever sting," I clarify.

"We need to run her a bath."

"We need to give her water."

It doesn't matter what we need to do. What matters is getting Ella help.