THE crowd was turning fuller and fuller with parents delivering kids to the weird guards, who brought barking dogs as more protection.

A small, brunette boy sat on his mom's hip. Got lifted through the whole crowd, and put down a few feet away from the guards.

"Remember..." The mom whispered, looking at his teary eyes. "I love you. I love you, Stephen."

The boy let a few tears fall when suddenly, he got scooped into the air by an unfamiliar person. His hand reached forward to his mom, but surprisingly enough, she did not help him.

"Mom!" He cried. "Mom!"

She smiled a small smile at him, tears in her eyes too.

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"Whatever you do," the Spanish man said to the two girls. "Do not come with them, all right? You don't ever do that." He crouched down in front of them. "Bren, come on."

The short-haired girl attacked him with a hug as tears streamed down her face. "They took George!"

"I know." He patted her back. "I know they did. But we can't let them take you."

"They tried," she cried out. "But then they let me go!"

He nodded, knowing something she didn't. "Then you've been lucky. Now come on, there's a training that waits for you. Ren, you too."

"Stop calling me that."

The man chuckled. "I like it. Bren and Ren."

"Why don't you call us Hermana like you call everyone?"

"Because you don't feel like sisters to me." He took their hands and started walking through the abandoned streets. "What about... Hijas?"

"I like that better." The blonde said. "I watched them take a few kids today."

"Me too." The other girl said. "Two boys and one girl."

"No. They took a girl and a boy. The other boy volunteered to go. His mommy brought him."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah." They said in unison before the blonde spoke again. "It was a brother and a sister. The girl had a teddy bear. They were both crying. I think the boy was older."

"No! The girl was older. He looked like he was three!"

"Hijas, he's older." He chuckled at their argument. "I think I know who it is."

"Whooo?"

"How do you know?"

"Because I know everyone, Bren."

"I bet you don't!"

"I do."

The blonde made a sprint to catch up with the man. "What's his name then?"

"Newton."

They went silent for just a second. "What's the name of the boy that voluntary got taken?"

"I haven't seen him, so I don't know."

"Then how did you know this Newton?" 

"Everyone with a brain can make up who a blonde boy that has a baby face is. And a sister too? Easy."

"Alright. The boy had brown hair. A little longer. Big, sad eyes. Brown ones."

"I'm afraid there's more people walking around like that."

They crossed a street. On the edge of it, stood a little boy. Two taller men next to him.

"Come on, Hijas. No interfering." Quickly, the man pulled his girls with him, while he gave the trio some secret glances.

"Who were that?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"When we get older, we wanna be like you and know everyone in town!"

A sigh. "That was-."

"Let me go you piece of shit!"

The blonde girl gasped. "How come that boy's allowed to curse and I'm not?"

"That, couldn't have been anyone else but... Minho. Not sure about his last name, but his father was proud of the first name, which is why I remember." The man told them, not answering the other question.

"Hey! That's the woman that brought the brunette boy!" They pointed at someone crossing the street in a hurry, her heels clicking against the ground over and over.

"Aha, I see."

"What's the son's name? Do you know?"

"Stephen."

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Thomas.

"Thomas, wake up!" Minho was screaming at the boy as Teresa shook Siren awake. Her eyes shot open, the sounds of gunshots and screams entering her ears.

"It's okay! Just gotta head to that building!" Teresa yelled through the noise. Pulled Siren up so she would jump out of the helicopter.

Her feet landed in sand and soon it was hitting her face too. A big storm was wheezing through the gunshots around them. Guards running around as they shot weird-running people.

"Come on!"

"Run!"

Siren quickly recovered from the sudden sight, and she started running to an enormous building in the distance. Yet she couldn't help to give glances at the people beside her.

They moved weirdly. Gagged while running or getting shot by the masked men. Ripped, bloody clothes.

"Siren!" When her run slowed down, Thomas made her pay attention again by tugging at her arm.

For the second time, she recovered and kept dragging herself through the sand. And god, that was hard. It felt like her feet weighted tons.

But eventually, she made it in the building. Immediately the giant doors closed behind them, a dozen of locks closing.

She gasped when she looked around.

The ceiling was far, far away from her. People were walking around. Mostly grown men, but also women. They carried or built things. The walls were made from steel. Strong, and it left out every single sound that happened outside.

"This way." A man quickly walked the Gladers to a room and before they knew it, the door shut closed.

"HEY!" Thomas immediately started slamming on the thing. They were left in complete darkness, their bodies frozen except for Thomas's. "Let us out!"

"What? You're afraid of some darkness, Crackhead?"

After that, he gave up. They slowly walked around the room, their hands reaching forward to be aware of any danger that would maybe cross their path.

"What the shuck!" Minho yelped. "Oh my- ew! I touched something on the table." A few seconds of silence. "It's just flowers. Don't mind me."

Blind, Siren's hands found something. She trailed them over it for a while. Sharp edges. Wood. Must've been a closet or something.

"Newt, that's my head, not a chandelier!"

"Stop touching my hair, Frypan!"

"What's that smell?"  

"Probably you boys who haven't showered in days." Teresa murmured.

"No... it smells good." Newt commented. A few sniffs. "Like, really good."

"That must be me." Minho said.

"It's... food?" He muttered as Siren continued looking.

She hit a wall at some point. While moving her hands over it, she frowned. It indeed smelled like freshly baked food. Some kind of meat and cooked... potatoes? It must've been a dream. It smelled too good, and suddenly her hands were touching softer material than the wall.

Thomas stood rooted to the ground when that happened. Because, no matter how cringe it sounded, Siren did not know it was actually his torso she was touching... and not a curtain.

"The hell is this?" The girl whispered to herself. She trailed her hands over the 'curtain', confused, but not focused enough to realize this was a human.

Then the lights went on.

"Ha! I clicked that button." Minho gave himself a knock on the chest.

A loud cough that was clearly meant toward Siren and Thomas.

Her eyes opened wider than ever when she saw her own hands lying on Thomas's shirt. In a second, they were off him and she averted her head, biting her lip. "Uh- sorry."

Thomas tried hiding his tomato colored face as he cleared his throat. "It's okay. Have been through worse— not that I liked it or someth-."

"I get it." She assured fast, not wanting the awkward conversation to continue. "Let's just- holy shit!"

Her heartbeat sped up at the look of a big table that was full of food. Chicken, rice, beans, potatoes, sausages, vegetables... her mouth already began to water after the lack of food she had the last days.

"Dibs on the rice!" Frypan was the first to jump forward. Soon, everyone did. Siren hesitantly scooped some soup into a bowl.

"From all foods you choose soup?!"

"Hey! Let the girl live!" Teresa threw a bean at Winston, who chuckled.

Siren had inspected the food for a while, then took a careful bit in case it was poisoned. And wow, it tasted amazing. It was still warm, the soft taste of the tomatoes making her long for more food.

"This is way better than Frypan's food!"

That's when Frypan threw a chicken wing at Minho. The Asian didn't take that well and shot back some rice.

"Not the rice!"

Three seconds later, everyone except for Siren, Thomas, and Newt were throwing food. They laughed as they did so, the food smearing onto the walls and floor. They didn't seem to care, though.

Minho made a cup of his hands and put them in front of his mouth, eyes twinkling with excitement. "Newton, get your boring ass here!"

"Come on, Greenie. You too." Frypan gave Thomas a push.

The brunette rather stayed on the side to stare at that one empty place. That one place where Chuck should've been standing. Should've been laughing as food stuck in his curls.

"Now throw!"

Hesitantly, Thomas threw one single bean at Winston. He didn't see the fun in doing this at all.

"Ah, man. A little more enthusiasm!" Minho took ahold of his shoulders. Leaned in to his ear. "I bet you wouldn't dare to throw something at Siren."

That changed his mind immediately.
"Bet."

Minho held up his hands. "Good trip to heaven, man."

Siren had crossed her arms and stared at the boys laughing, the bowl still in her hands when Thomas had the audacity to smash about a handful of mashed potatoes on her head.

Gasping loudly, Siren turned to the boy. Thomas had a big, challenging grin on his face now, eyes lighting up.

"You're gonna regret that, Crackhead!" After checking if the soup wasn't too hot, she threw it all over it head.

"Oh!" Rice in her face. A bean hitting Thomas in the eye. Her head nearly getting dipped in the sausages, and Thomas's head in the chicken.

She laughed for once. So brightly her cheekbones hurt, only because she saw Thomas covered with all sorts of food and she threw more.

A few minutes later, they had calmed down, ate what was left of the food, and then sat down somewhere in the corner.

Siren asked the first thing that came to mind. "So what were those things outside?"

"That woman, Ava, called them Cranks. The Flare is a virus that broke out, and it makes people... jacked. They turn into Cranks." Frypan summarized fast.

"What else did she say?" She wondered, unsure. "I didn't really catch what she said."

"Because you were too busy talking to you boyfriend, right?"

"Shut up, Minho!"

A few chuckles.
"Well, about WICKED. A company that's trying to search for a cure to the Flare. Except their methods are experimenting on immune kids. Not very ideal."

"Not really, no." She pulled her knees up to her chest, attempting to smudge away last bits of food, even though it was tangled in her hair.

"You kids doing all right?" The sudden voice made all of them jump up immediately.

In the doorframe, stood a man. In his fifties, a grey turtleneck covering his torso. Casual black pants with a black leather jacket. A few wrinkles in his face, which had cold blue eyes. Grayish hair. 

"Sorry about all the fuss." He said. "We had ourselves a bit of a swarm."

Thomas moved his eyes over the man. "Who are you?"

"I'm the reason you're all still alive. It's my intention to keep you that way." He replied, a smile mixed with a grin on his face. "Now, come with me. We'll get you kids squared away."

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"You can call me Mr. Janson." He explained as they walked through the building. "I run this place. For us it is a sanctuary, safe from the horrors of the outside world. You all should think of it as a way station. Kind of a home between homes."

Siren looked around. More working people, probably making the building even safer from Cranks. She wondered if the people here were Immunes like them.

"That mean you're taking us home?" Minho asked.

"A home of sorts. Sadly, there wouldn't be much left of wherever you came from."

Siren looked at the ground by that. Meeting her parents would be weird if she didn't remember them, and she had quite the feeling no one would be very proud of what she turned into. However, from the memories she got so far, she rather seemed to be in some kind of cult. 

"But we do have a place for you." Mr. Janson continued. "A refuge, outside the Scorch, where WICKED will never find you again. How does that sound?"

"What's the Scorch?" Siren whispered to Teresa.

"The desert." Then, the girl raised her voice to Mr. Janson. "Why are you helping us?"

"Let's just say the world out there is in a rather precarious situation." He touched his chin, sometimes looking back at the kids as he walked in a firm pace. "We're all hanging on by a very thin thread. The fact that you kids can survive the Flare virus... makes you the best chance of humanity's continued survival. Unfortunately, it also makes you a target, as no doubt by now you've noticed."

"Sure did." Siren mumbled before she stopped walking like everyone else did.

"Beyond this door lies the beginning of your new lives." Mr. Janson swiped a card on some kind of device. It slid open. Revealing what they thought would be spectacular.

Siren squinted an eye. "It's a hallway..."

"Bloody inspiring."

Mr. Janson turned around as if he didn't hear their comments.
"First things first... let's do something about that smell. Girls, follow me. Boys, wait here until I'm back."

All six boys instinctively moved in front of the two girls. "They're not going anywhere with you."

Mr. Janson smiled. "I can assure you I will not hurt or touch them in any way. All we want is for them to be safe from others. Come on, girls."

Siren and Teresa shared a glance. Nodded, and slowly stepped forward. What could really happen?

"Anything happens and you fight back. Yell for us." Thomas told them quietly, right on time because Janson already motioned for the two to follow him.