Dawn 14

"We checkin' out this building?" I ask, gesturing to one just a couple hundred metres from ours.

Everyone else has already begun to scope the area, pairing off into groups off three. Leo and I were the only one's paired off in two, each with one of the leaders. At this point, we are down to seventeen, so there was no logical reason to have two groups of two, one group of four, and three groups of three. Let me tell you, it was not done as a vote of confidence.

"Seems this spots ours," Sonya agrees, staring the building down.

We stalk over, our feet trudging in the sand. The sun is heavy above us, but I don't mind. Honestly, it's better than the tunnel.

The building is massive. It's three floors, which means it outnumbers us. There aren't any windows either, so it's difficult to get a glimpse inside. Sonya stops short of the doorway, staring up in front of us. I watch her swallow. She wipes sweat and honey-coloured hair out of her eyes. Geez, I bet Leo wouldn't even be this nervous.

"Got any weapons?" I ask, looking her up and down.

She nods, reaching her hand into her backpack. She hands me a knife. It's got a short shinning blade, and a heavy plastic handle. It feels weighted wrong, although I'm not used to working with knives. I don't like close range, but I'll go for this. I've taken on Grievers with less.

Sonya takes an arrow out of her quiver, pulling her bow up in front of her. At least she has a weapon she is used to using. Thankfully I don't have that shucking thing.

"You think there will be Cranks?" She asks me, her eyes fixing on the heavy metal door that waits in front of us.

Honestly, I don't even worry about Cranks. They are scary enough without me dwelling on them. Apparently, we are all doomed to become them anyway. Why fear the inevitable? I will worry when my fate bothers me.

"Could be," I shrug gently. "It's not like we couldn't take them though."

Sonya nods, accepting this reality. We move in, poising ourselves on either side of the door. She nods towards me, gesturing for my move.

"I'll open it on three," I offer, turning to face her. My hand wraps itself around the metal handle. There is the possibility it might be bolted shut. Either nothing happens now, or we run into our deaths. My heart flutters in my chest.

Sonya nods up and down. "Sounds good to me."

"One..." I count, "two... three!"

I rip the door open, stretching my knife forward. There is a crowd gathered in the centre of the room, illuminated by the high windows coming from the back of the building. The space, although a vast empty warehouse, feels constricting.

Fry-pan turns to face me. I drop my knife on the ground, and it echoes against the harsh concrete.

"Oh shuck," he says.

A few heads turn around to stare at me. I stumble into the room, Sonya close behind me. A few boys turn to stare at me, and I realise they have knives, shovels, and other weapons pointed at them. None of them are Minho.

I even see Doug, unharmed.

It was Minho who caught on fire during the storm, not some other Asian guy. I feel my heart sink into my hands.

"She's alive," Newt gasps.

Sonya grabs my hand, pulling me backwards. I tense my legs to try and stop her from pulling us out. Even though Minho is gone, I can't leave. These are my friends. I try to shake out of her grip, turning to face her and the doorway.

There is a hand on my shoulder. I turn to face Minho.

Minho.

His clothing is charred, no doubt he was set on fire, but he is alive. There are burns on his cheeks, turning bright red and peeling. He's here. His grip is tight, his eyes wide, and his head has crusted blood. None of that matters with him alive.

He firmly kisses my lips, breaking off quickly.

"Dawn," he says quickly. "Leave."

Sonya takes this as her que to pull me at the back of my jacket. Instead of listening, I ball my hands into fists full of Minho's shirt. I pull him in closer to me.

"What are you talking about?" I demand. "I'm not going."

"Please," he tries to push me backwards, and out the door. "Please run."

A few of men turn towards us, none of whom I recognize, and I back up into the wall behind us. Sonya looks over to me, sinking into the wall next to me.

"Alright muchachos," a man walks around a corner, Thomas entering just a few feet behind them. This new man is taller, older, and with very tan skin. His face wrinkles as it shifts from expressions of anger, to happiness and sadness all in a matter of seconds.

Minho stops pushing me, turning around. He stands still, and attempts to hide me from the man, as he continues to speak. "We've come up with a deal. First, we give these hombres food. I know it sounds crazy, but I think we could use their help."

I don't think he has even realised I'm in the room, or that the front door is ajar.

"Second, I am not going to kill that punk."

The crowd of Cranks fills with groans, and I can find my throat tighten. I can't make out Thomas from here, but they've surely got to be talking about him. I guess Thomas isn't being targeted by Group B alone.

"I like that smile, kid," the man points to Minho. "Glad to know your ready for the next little headline."

"What?" Minho seems as confused as me.

"Since you decided to punch me with those tiny hands of yours, I'm gonna cut off a finger from each hand." The new man instructs as his friends cheer.

This is crazy, but I keep my mouth shut. Who are these bloody slintheads? How did Minho even get our group into this mess? I reach forward, gripping Minho's hand to prevent him from charging at the guy. His hand squeezes mine back. These guys are making my stomach curl.

They must be Cranks, but they seem to sane for Cranks. I don't like the idea that these crazy guys can blend in with the rest of us.

"Me and little Brenda here will take them too the stash, and we will meet up with you in an hour for the tour?" The man stalks forward. "Comprende?"

"But there are fifteen of them," some guy adds from the crowd. "What if they take you?"

"Thanks for the lesson on numbers," their leader argues. "I know how to count, and I've got this. Trust me. They try anything, Brenda will chop up that Minho into little tiny bits, and the rest of us them will deal with my fists."

The crowd seems satisfied by this, so they filter out of the room one by one. Minho presses me tighter but leaves Sonya out in the open. One by one, each guy passes her by. I wait for one to look up at her, or to take a double take, but nobody bothers.

It's just us in the room. Minho finally relaxes his shoulders, and I squeeze out from behind him. Me and the boys, all of whom I know but fewer than I expected.

"Is this it?" I ask, my eyes darting around the crowd.

"We lost seven," Newt admits. "Frankie was one. Winston too."

Frankie is dead. I try not to think about it, but it dwells in my head. The only Cooks left are Fry and I. How have we gotten so small?

"Who is this?" The man stalks forward, staring me down. "My name's Jorge. You a Crank too?"

"She was one of the girls I mentioned." Thomas offers, looking at me.

Minho glares at Thomas. At least he doesn't try to press me up behind him. It strikes me for the first time that I am unarmed. My knife is gone, although that isn't really the problem. If this guy, this old Jorge, wanted to hurt me, he could.

Jorge steps closer to me. He has a knife in his hands. I step back into Minho, trying to blend in with the boy.

"Oh, quit is punk, I'm not slicing off your little fingers." Jorge chuckles too himself, looking at Minho instead of me. "Not yet anyway."

I don't like this guy. He smiles too wide, which is the only thing about him that tips me off to his Crank status. The girl with him, who seems about my age, hasn't said anything yet. She looks at me behind her short black hair with dark eyes. They've called her Brenda. Probably a Crank, but at this rate, who isn't?

"Sonya?" A voice asks.

It's one of the three boys I don't recognize. He has dark skin, and a soft smile etched across his face. Although he is tall, he's the least threatening of the three. His eyes meet mine for a second, and they still.

Who is he?

"Dawn we need to leave." Sonya interrupts my eye contact. Her eyes are small and firm. "We are supposed to bloody be here. This isn't the plan."

"I'm not going back," I tell her, plain and simple. This is my time to escape; Group B can go shuck themselves.

Sonya shakes her head. Her eyes widen, before she reaches for my hand. I shrug her off, walking away from her and Minho.

The black guy moves through the crowd. He wraps his arms around Sonya. Tightly pulling her into an embrace, the guy is forced to lean his head down low towards her.

She won't hug him back. Sonya is as stiff as a board.

"I'm so glad you are alive," he smiles. "I saw you in the lightning storm. I didn't know if you'd make it."

Sonya tears her eyes away from the boy to me. She bites her lip, caught in a lie. She said she didn't see anyone in the storm. Lying to Teresa, is she? I didn't think she had it in her. Each day, I respect Sonya and her shy smile more. She still won't make eye contact with the boy above her.

"We thought you would've died."

"Nah, WICKED has my back for once," he grins, as if that's a good thing. He doesn't elaborate how they have kept him alive and no one else, and honestly I can't help but roll my eyes.

"Are you alright?" Minho turns his attention back to me. He cups my face before pulling me into a hug. Arms wrapped tightly around me, clinging on to me with all his strength. I hold him back, even though he winces.

He pulls away to kiss my forehead, then my lips. I find myself drowning in him once again, feeling his hair in my hands. This past week without him has felt like a lifetime. I thought he was dead. Honestly, I don't know how I would live if he was.

I pull back first, so I could look into his eyes. They are the same deep brown they've always been, even if they are worn with worry and sand.

"Of course, I'm fine," I tell him.

Klunk, I was going to tell him I'm pregnant. Too little too late, at this point.

His eyes are wide and red from what I assume is a lack of sleep. The colour distracts from the brown in the center, which seems darker now, and feels distant. "Michelle told me you were dead."

That shucking slinthead. Next time I see her, I'm going to beat her so hard she'll never stop klunking. How could she tell him I was dead? When was this? Why?

"I thought you were dead," he is shaking slightly as he holds me. I touch his back, but immediately regret it when he winces.

I don't know how to comfort him, since I am alive. "I thought you were dead too."

"Is Leo alive?" Newt pushes forward, towards me.

I nod. Of course she is alive. It takes everything in me to let go of Minho and grab on to Newt. The tall boy hugs me back gently. "We've both missed you, Newt."

Then I move on to Thomas, wrapping my arms around him. I whisper into his ear, "thank you for saving Minho, again. I owe you my life."

When I hug him, Teresa's words come running back, haunting me. What did Thomas do to her? We need to talk, privately. Now isn't the time.

Thomas's cheeks tinge pink, and when I let go I am tackled by Fry. He holds on to me as tightly as possible. "I am so happy someone from the kitchens is alive. I am so happy Dawn."

I can barely hug him back, since he is on top of me. I don't mind one bit. The Gladers are my family.

"Dawn," Sonya's voice has risen. I look at her over my shoulder. Her cheeks are tighter, a scowl beginning to form on her face. "We need to go back."

She seriously thinks I'm returning. Does she not see how happy I am? Can't she tell that these are good people? None of the boys here wish anyone harm. As I glance around the room, I realise no one I have a problem with is alive anymore. The thought makes my stomach churn. So many have died.

"No shucking way," I cross my arms.

She tries to take a step closer to me, but Minho blocks her. Sonya looks over his shoulder, past me, trying to get me to come over to her. I won't though, even if Fry has let me go.

"I'm not going back," I tell her. "You couldn't shucking drag me. You're all crazy, every last one of you. Shuck your policies."

"I can't go back without you," she tells me. She bites her lip, and I can tell she doesn't know what to do. Her hands gesture for me to come back over to her, but I can't. "The Deserter's Clause will fall on me. I could've stopped you. Also, probably Leo."

I pause.

No one is holding on to me, but Sonya's face has fallen. I feel like I'm sinking into sand. I try to keep my mouth up but I'm tumbling down. Her scowl is becoming a frown. Her eyes are glossy, and her hands are shaking.

Shuck. I hate that I can't just leave her.

"What's that?" Thomas demands to know, but I offer him no response. It's too hard to explain. You need to live it to understand.

"It's complicated," the black guy brushes Thomas off. His goofy grin is gone, and he is serious. "Let me come back with you. It'll be a trade."

"You can't," Sonya shakes her head back and forth. "It's us versus you now. Marie was going to bring you insulin, but Teresa stopped her. Only Dawn can come."

No one in the room moves. The only sound is the breath hitching in Thomas's throat. He's gone pale. Does he know about the plot? I'll have to tell him later.

"You let Teresa keep the insulin?" Someone demands, stepping forward, his voice loud and incredulous. I don't recognize him from the Maze. He has dark brown hair, and crazy eyebrows. His skin has gone yellow, and his eyes enraged. Someone grabs him by the collar to hold him back. He must be Sheil.

"Are we going to leave, or what?" Jorge demands.

Sonya turns back to me. She gestures to Jorge's belt. "He's got a rope. Tie me up, gag me, and knock me out. Then you can leave."

Is she serious? Her lips are in a straight line, and there seems to be no doubt in her mind. I look at the knife on the floor.

"Sonya," I shake my head. "I'm not going to..."

"Do it," she tells me, leaning forward to shove me backwards. It's sort of playful, but also demanding. I get it. She wants to be with her people, just like I want to be with mine. This is the only option.

I grab the knife off the floor, and wait for Jorge. He eyes me up and down, before sighing. "You chicas are more than I bargained for."

Thankfully, he hands me the rope. I tie her hands behind her back, and then tie them to her waist. Sonya doesn't resist. In fact, she tries to make her body as stiff as possible, probably so I have an easier time.

"Is this seriously necessary?" Thomas asks. "This seems crazy."

"Welcome to Group B," I can't even offer a chuckle, because this is my reality. I have to tie a girl up so her own people don't kill her.

"There's a bandana in my backpack," she tells me. "You can use that to gag me. Then, knock me out with the hilt of the knife."

I do as she says, although I'm not sure exactly how to gag her. When I'm done, she can barely spit through her teeth.

"Knock. Me. Out." She turns, looking to her knife on the ground. "Hilt."

Her voice is muffled, and fumbling, but I know what she is saying. I gently guide her so that she sits on the ground. When I bend down, the knife feels much heavier in my hands. Sonya makes eye contact with me. She does not look scared. Her eyes are steady and certain. Unlike before, her body is still. She doesn't shake.

I can't help but look at her apologetically. "Thank you, Sonya. I really am sorry about this."

With the very top of the hilt in my hand, I smash down the hilt into the top of her head. She groans but stays conscious. Doug takes a step forward, lightly moving me to the side. He offers me a grimace, rubbing his hands together.

"You seem like a nice girl," he offers Sonya a faint smile. "Which is why I'm real sorry about this. Tell Michelle I say hello. She'll know exactly who I am."

He pulls her up off the ground. Doug's face falters as he throws a hook into her jaw. Sonya hits the floor, her body turned away from me. I wait for her to make a sound, or to get up, but she lies on the ground with her blonde hair sprawled behind her. Clint moves down next to her checking her pulse. She is alive but knocked out.

"Let's move then," Jorge smiles, rubbing his hands together. "Time to get some food."