ACT I SCENE XIII
PRIAM

   WHEN THOMAS woke up the next morning, he found himself lying on a bed in one of the rooms upstairs. He immediately fell into a coughing fit. Cassandra's eyes slid away, a scowl curling her lips as she muttered under her breath. After a beat, she turned back to him indignantly and shoved a glass of water in his face.

"Alby made me stay until you woke up to apologise," she muttered. There was an awkward pause as they stared at each other. "I apologise."

Thomas opened his mouth, then shut it again without a word. Cassandra continued to glower at him. To her, it was justifiable. She knew the boy and what he did, even if he had seemingly forgotten. Maybe she could beat it out of him. Now that would be great.

"Who are you?" he finally asked. "And what is your problem?"

"You—" She leaned forward, eyes blazing, finger jabbing at his chest. But just as the words rose up, her throat seized, as if invisible hands had tightened around her voice.

She held a hand to her neck as the rest of her words sputtered into a violent cough. Her temper flared once more as she realised what was happening. The Creators. Just like Nick before her, they were preventing her from talking about what she remembered.

She growled and stormed out, the boy's presence trailing behind her like a weight she couldn't shake. Her furious footsteps thudded down the stairs to find Newt waiting for her at the bottom. He looked at her and sighed.

"Gally filled me in," he told her. "But seriously, Cass? You do know that one of our rules is never to harm another Glader, right?"

"Not for a shucking second," she hissed. "Not when he's one of them!"

"But they sent him here," he said. "That means they don't want him anymore, or maybe he's here to help us."

"What if it's a trick?" she questioned. "Maybe they sent him here to get us killed or something?"

"Cass, ya knocked him out with a bloody punch." He raised his eyebrows at her. "I think it's more likely that you're gonna kill him before he even decides to murder any of us in our sleep."

She paused, lips twitching into a petulant frown. He did have a point. "I'm still keeping my eye on him," she said before heading outside.

Ben let out an agonising shriek from upstairs and she stopped to look back. Worry took hold of her and creased her face with deep lines. She looked up the stairs only to find Thomas on his way down. His eyes were wide with terror, and he froze in place when he saw her. Cassandra clicked her tongue and turned back around to get away. She couldn't handle seeing his shuck face for another second. That ominous feeling she had when Gally was stung returned in full force.

Things were going to change.

That night, Alby collected her with a crooked, self-satisfied grin on his face. As if throwing her into the Slammer was a form of vindication for him. He pushed her inside and turned the key in the lock before leaning against the bars. Cassandra took a tentative step into the dark pit, finding nothing but soil beneath her feet. She sniffed unenthusiastically. The air was damp and mouldy in here. It was disgusting.

"Guess it was bound to happen sooner or later," Alby said.

"Whatever, Alby, just shuck off, alright?" she muttered, annoyed. "I'm not in the mood for this."

"But Nick always did everything he could to protect you," he told her. She turned to look at him, eyes softening at the mention of the name. "I never understood why, but I always assumed there was a reason for it."

When she didn't respond, he continued on, "Look, I'm not stupid to know that what you did had a reason too, okay? Whatever your reason is, it had better be a good one. That's all I'm saying."

She took a deep breath and sighed. "I can't tell you. Just like Nick, I can't tell you why either. They won't let me."

"I know," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "In the meantime, enjoy your first-ever night in the Slammer."

He laughed, grinning like a wolf toying with its prey, before leaving. Cassandra grasped the bars and watched his figure fade into the distance. It was quiet out there at the Slammer, and the air felt thick. Just like the Deadheads. The silence crept up her skin on spindly legs coated in silk. The faint rustling of grass sounded like ghostly footsteps in the dark. She sighed and hung her head, knocking it against the metal enclosure in despondency. Stupid Thomas, this was all his fault.

She had barely picked a corner to sleep in when something slammed against the bars—like a body hurled by a storm. She shrieked in fright, heart jumping to her throat, and jerked away. Only to feel her hair tangled in clawed fingers. Her vision refocused and she found a gaunt face staring back at her through the gaps between the bars. It was Andy. She recognised his dark, beady eyes anywhere.

"What the shuck—" she cried out, hands wrestling against his.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he snarled, breath rancid against her cheek. "You told the Creators to do it, didn't you?!"

"Do what? Ow!" she cried out as his hand tugged painfully at her scalp. "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Don't lie! I saw you during the Changing—it was you!" he shouted. "You're one of them, I saw you with them!"

Cassandra froze, hands clenched around his arm in a vice. She stared back into his heated eyes, seeing her horrified face reflected within. Was that why he'd always look at her like she was dirt? Had he seen her behind the glass? With Thomas? It might have explained why he had always been so antagonistic to her. Just like how she looked at Thomas. But it didn't make sense, Gally and Nick never treated her like this.

"W-What do you mean?" she asked. "What did you see?!"

He rattled against the bars, shaking her head in the process. It made her feel like her brain was jostling inside her skull. An enraged, guttural growl tore through his vocal cords. "Stop lying, just stop it! Stop it!" he screeched.

"Andy, you stop it!" she yelled, lashing out to smack him in the face.

He suddenly let out a short, ugly rasp. Cassandra flinched, thinking she had injured him somehow. Then she saw a hand wrapped around his throat, and his body was wrenched away from the door. She gasped and stumbled back—then pulled herself to the bars again. She peered out and saw a tall boy grabbing the scruff of Andy's shirt to drag him out of sight.

She could hear a brief scuffle, a crack of bone hitting bone. Then a familiar voice spoke, "Get the hell out of here before I tell on you to Alby."

Cassandra pressed her head against the bars, trying to look out of the corner of the gap. She didn't have to try for long when the tall boy returned into full view. He leaned against the frame of the door and examined her for injuries.

"You okay?" Gally asked, brows furrowed.

She stared up at him, wide-eyed. The tension in her bones melted away. Cassandra had never been so relieved to see a familiar face.

"Yeah... thanks," she replied, sighing. "You should definitely tell on him though."

He shrugged. "Only if you don't tell on me."

Her eyes continued to dart around the field through the gap, as if expecting to see Andy or one of his friends lurking in the shadows. Gally seemed to notice, and he sat himself down on the ground by the door. She slowly lowered herself to join him, leaning against the wall and plucking at a loose thread of her shirt.

"Did you know Andy went through the Changing?" she murmured. "Is that why he hates me?"

"Yeah, I know," he said. "Nick usually had them under control. They tend to act out from time to time. Most of 'em Baggers went through the Changing, they're not much use anywhere else."

She frowned. That explained a lot. "He said he saw me... but why would he think I was lying? What did he see that made him think I was one of them?"

Gally shrugged. "I dunno. I guess we all see different things, some less than others."

"You don't think I'm like that, do you?" she asked with nails digging into her palm. "Like... one of the Creators?"

"No, I don't think so," he said. There was no hesitation in his voice, and that reassured her. She almost let out a sigh of relief. "Now, I don't know about you, but I've had enough excitement for one day."

He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, making himself comfortable in his position. Cassandra turned to him, the edge of a smile twitching at her mouth—not out of amusement, but because talking to Gally always felt oddly grounding. Familiar. Like exhaling after holding your breath too long. She curled up against the wall next to him and allowed herself to relax.

"Good night, Gally."

   The door creaked open on rusted hinges in the early hours of dawn. Cassandra opened her eyes with a groan. Her neck was stiff, and her entire body ached from the position she had fallen asleep in. For a brief second, she thought the last night had been a figment of her imagination until she realised she was lying on the dirt floor of the Slammer. She didn't see Gally anywhere. Instead, Newt stood in the doorway, arms crossed and smirking.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," he greeted.

"Ugh, shuck off," she muttered, rubbing her eyes groggily. She pushed herself to a stand and stumbled out. The cool morning air was a welcome relief to her skin and lungs. She could already hear the other Gladers rousing for wake-up.

Minho was there to fetch her, too. "You look like shuck, Cassie," he remarked.

She scowled. "You have no idea what I had to go through last night! First of all, this place is disgusting! And then that shank Andy tried to kill me!"

"What?" Newt ejaculated. "Now hang on there—"

She ignored him and carried on, "He kept yelling nonsense like I was some kinda spy for the Creators, then Gally came and chased him off—"

"Gally chased him off?" Minho repeated incredulously.

"—now my back hurts like shuck! This is a violation of human rights!" she complained.

Newt shook his head. "That is one hell of a dream, Cass."

"It wasn't a dream, Newton!" she insisted. "I nearly died!"

"Alright, I hear you," he said. "Geez, my ears are bleedin' now. That'll teach you not to break the rules and end up in the Slammer again."

Cassandra huffed indignantly at his blasé attitude. Minho was failing miserably to keep an amused grin off his face. He checked his watch before turning to her. "C'mon, Cassie, we have to leave soon," he told her.

"I'm not going," she said flatly. "My shucking head hurts."

He gave her a look like he wasn't buying it. "Really? That's your excuse?"

Newt snorted beside him. "Next, she'll say the Slammer gave her memory loss."

"Shut up, I'm serious!" she snapped. "I'm not going anywhere!"

Her outburst seemed to have taken them aback. Minho's smirk faltered and he exchanged a glance with Newt. The blonde quickly excused himself with a muttered, "I'll let you guys sort this out."

He ambled his way back to the Homestead before anyone could stop him. Minho frowned, rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly. "Okay... what's up with you?" he asked.

She sighed, arms crossed. "It's nothing."

His voice softened, just a touch. "Did Andy really hurt you last night?"

"He just rattled my head and pulled my hair," she muttered, averting her gaze.

"Hey, I'm sorry..." He reached out, placing a hand on her arm. "I'll tell Newt to deal with that shank, alright?"

Her skin tingled at his touch and sent a jolt to her stomach. Hesitantly, she turned her eyes back to his and it felt like she was holding her breath. She wasn't sure if it was guilt for lashing out, or something else. But her heart trembled in her chest.

"It's the Greenie," she blurted. "I don't trust him."

Minho raised his brows. "So you wanna stay in the Glade to keep an eye on him? Look, I get it, but what is he gonna do? You're just being—"

He cut himself off, but he didn't need to say it out loud. Cassandra shifted uncomfortably. "Being like Nick? Or Andy? You think I'm just being paranoid like everyone else that went through the Changing?"

"That's not what I'm saying..." He sighed, letting his hand drop back to his side. "Fine, you can stay if you want. Just... stay out of trouble. No more punching Greenies."

"No promises," she said, eyes gleaming.

A smirk quickly returned to his face. "You're impossible."

They walked back to the Homestead and Cassandra saw him off when the Doors opened. As she watched his back disappear from view, she was certain that she had made the right decision. There was a nagging feeling in her gut that something was going to happen. And she wanted to be right there when it did. 

Despite the events of the last night, her morning unfolded as usual. Cassandra headed toward the Gardens, spying Alby bringing Thomas out of the kitchen for The Tour. Then she spotted Gally waving from his stack of supply crates. She wandered over, curious.

She could guess what he had to say though. He patted the spot next to him on the box and she took a seat. Just as she was settling down, she spotted something at the bottom of the crate and leaned down to pick it up. It was Nick's glasses. Gally glanced at her as she stared at it, dumbfounded.

She remembered how Nick always had to keep pushing them up his nose every few seconds. Like they were always too big for his face. Cassandra didn't think she was a sentimental person, but it was proof that Nick had been alive once. She slipped it into her pocket, her fingers lingering on the frame for just a moment.

"It's him, isn't it? I recognise him," Gally told her. "He's bad news."

"Yep, it's him," she confirmed with a glower.

"So what do you think is goin' on?" he asked. "Why'd they send him here?"

"Maybe he's gonna murder us in our sleep," she said.

"Great, then I'll have an excuse to punch him in the face next."

As if on cue, the Box alarm blared to life. The Glade jolted with it, and she locked eyes with Gally. They were on their feet in the next heartbeat, racing towards the Box Hole. The dread in her belly almost made her want to throw up. Alby, Newt and the other Keepers met up with them half a moment later.

"This seems bad," Newt remarked, exchanging worried glances with her.

"Maybe they forgot to send something up," Winston said hopefully.

"Yeah, doubt that," Gally quipped.

They waited around for the lift to arrive, then Thomas and Chuck found their way over to them. After what almost felt like an eternity, there was a loud bang as the lift reached the end of the shaft. Alby and Newt threw open the metal grates and Cassandra walked forward to peer inside.

"Holy..." Newt said, then looked at her with wide eyes.

She gave him the same look before turning their attention back to the Box. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. It was another girl. She was skinny and pale, with long dark hair that fanned around her as she lay completely still at the bottom. Cassandra couldn't tell if she was even breathing. Someone yelled for an explanation, and Alby stood up.

"Two Newbies in two days," he muttered. "Now this. Two years, nothing different except for this shank and now this." Then he grabbed Thomas by the shirt. "You—tell us what's happening!"

Cassandra turned to the boy as well, but Thomas merely stared back, his face a portrait of confusion. "I have no idea what's going on either!" he said defensively.

"Hey, why don't you just tell us what the shuck is down there?!" Gally shouted.

"You shanks shut up!" Alby yelled back. "Tell 'em, Newt."

Newt took a moment to compose himself before turning to face the crowd of boys. His face was grave before he gave the announcement. "It's another girl."

All at once, the Gladers erupted into fervent chatter. Some of them yelled stupid things like calling dibs on the girl and it made Cassandra scowl in annoyance. Newt shushed them before they got even rowdier.

"That's not all of it, though," he went on. "I think she's dead."

A hush settled over them for a moment before Alby started barking out orders again. They got a rope to pull the girl out of the Box and Cassandra went down on her knees to help them hoist her over the edge of the hole. She certainly looked very dead, and she was cold to the touch too.

The more curious thing was that Cassandra didn't recognise her. At all. She had no memory of the girl, no recollection or even a hint of familiarity. Nothing. An icy ripple coursed through her, and something shifted in the air.

"I know every face in the Glade," she murmured, mostly to herself. "But I've never seen her before."

Alby turned on Thomas again. "Why don't you tell us, Greenie? Who is she?"

Cassandra was just about to open her mouth to speak when the girl gasped and shot up to grab hold of her. She screamed in blind fright just as Newt and Alby jumped back with loud swears. The girl's eyes flew open to reveal bright blue irises that were dazed and out of focus. She blinked rapidly, mumbling something indecipherable under her breath. Slowly, her eyes turned to Cassandra.

Then she spoke in a clear voice, "Everything is going to change."

Her hand slid down Cassandra's arm as she collapsed back to the ground and a piece of paper fell out of it onto the ground. She leaned forward to pick it up and unfolded the message.

"What is it?" Newt asked.

The colour drained from her face and she looked at him with apprehension. He took the note from her hand and spread it across the ground so everyone could see it. Only five words were written in thick blocky letters.

"She's the last one. Ever."

Whoever likes Teresa, raise your hand. (raises hand)