So, my friend's computer is jacked and I get to work on this one! For a while, at least, when it's ready again I'll pause this to finish Max Meet Maze. I have read The Death Cure, so I know what the real world is supposedly, like in his books.
Disclaimer: The a-mazing James Dashner owns the a-mazing trilogy.
Enjoy! R&R please! Oh, no spoilers for The Death Cure, there are spoilers for The Scorch Trials, though.
Rat Man, whose name was actually Janson, showed us to a cafeteria-like room not too far from where we slept. Aris was the only one in our room who wasn't a Glader, but he was the only boy from Group B. Sort of like Teresa, who was the only girl from the Glade.
"Now that you've had rest," Rat Man said once everyone was through with their meal, "the net trial will begin. I must speak with Group A and B separately, if you may. Group B, please follow Ms. Bennett."
I watched as the room slowly emptied. Teresa was far from the rest of us, she must've been sitting with Group B, I thought.
"Group A, follow me." Silently, we obeyed as three or four pairs of double doors swung from in front or behind. Rat Man sat us down in a plain, white room. He sat at a desk while the rest of us took the floor as our seat.
"One of you-"
Rat Man was cut off by Ms. Bennett swinging the door wide open.
"Janson," she said sharply, throwing Aris into the room, "I believe you've gotten mixed up, boys in one room," she paused, searched for Teresa in the crowd, picked her up, and stood in the doorway again, "girls in the other!" With that, she slammed the door. I could hear her loud footsteps going down the hallway.
"What's with that woman?" Aris nearly screamed at Rat Man.
Rat Man shook his head. "No telling," he replied calmly. "As I was saying, one of you will be drawn to participate in the next trial. The others, I will tell later. For now, please write your name on this sheet of paper; then fold it neatly."
Rat Man handed out small pieces of paper to each person, a pen was given to someone randomly, for we were to share the pen. I wrote my name on my piece, folded it neatly, and handed it to Rat Man as he came by to pick them up. I figured there would be a different kind of drawing technique, but, no. Rat Man dumped the paper in his hand into an empty fishbowl.
"Really?" Minho wondered aloud next to me. It was a one-word sentence, but I couldn't have agreed more.
Finally, after tossing the pieces of paper around in the bowl, Rat Man carefully chose a piece of paper.
"Thomas," he called out.
I sighed and stood up. Rat Man smiled and said, "Thomas, go into that room right there."
I walked to a small white door and opened it up. Inside was a young man, no older than twenty. He smiled invitingly and I stepped through the doorway.
"You must be the participant. What's your name again?" he asked. The dim light wouldn't allow me to see many of his characteristics, but I could tell his eyes and hair were dark.
"Thomas," I replied.
"Very well, Thomas. Take a seat, will you?" Rows and rows of chairs were set in front of a huge screen; I sat on a chair in middle.
"This screen will show you and the other participant. Everyone will be watching you, Thomas, as you complete the next trial."
"What is the next trial?" I asked. The man frowned. "I cannot say right now, hopefully everything will be revealed soon. For now, I am to tell you about the real world."
"The real world?" I asked quietly.
"You and the other participant will be thrown into the real world. I'm not sure where, exactly, but wherever you are you still need to now some simple things."
The man went on to tell me about the schools. Most everyone wore masks and those who didn't were shunned. Whether they were immune to the Flare or not didn't matter. I figured it would be wise to go ahead and wear one, even if I might be immune. (I'm not telling you if he's immune or not, you might've not read the sneak peek for The Death Cure. Okay, fine, SPOILER: not telling)
He told me that most everyone in the streets wore masks. Cranks were supposedly rare. When I asked why, the man said that if a Crank was caught, he or she was put in a place known as the Crank Palace. Policeman would randomly check a person, to see if they had the Flare or not, with a little device. The man said it wasn't dangerous, and told me not to worry if a policeman checked me.
Once the man had most everything explained, we both sat waiting for someone else to come.
"Mr. Ross," I said.
"Yes," he replied.
"Is it another participant?"
Mr. Ross grinned and shook his head. "No, it's just someone to tell you the rules of the next trial, someone to give you equipment that you need." He explained. We waited a few more minutes before a woman stepped in.
"Mr. Ross," she said, "I'll take it from here."
He nodded and headed out the doorway.
"Hello, Thomas," the woman said, giving me her hand to shake, "I'm Mrs. Hill, and I'll be giving you the basic rules." I shook her hand and she smiled weakly. It was fake.
"What kind of trial is this, anyway?" I questioned. She looked at me and the smile on her face disappeared.
"Well, fortunately, this is the last one."
With the smile being gone, I wondered if she knew about the argument he and David had. I couldn't help sighing, too. I guess there's nothing we can do about it, unfortunately.
"Well, what do I do?"
"You and the other participant will fight. You'll meet her after this, more or less. You'll be in separate groups, but in the same city. If you leave the city, you and the other participant will be killed and replaced."
"Good that," I huffed under my breath.
"See this right here?" she said, handing me a small phone-like device. "Type in the coordinates right here," she typed C-2011 on the touch-screen device, "then hit 'FIRE'." She pointed to a small green button, and then pressed another button, similar in size, but it was red and had 'CANCEL' impressed on it.
"C-2011 is a coordinate that doesn't exist, but I typed in a code. Don't bother trying to figure it out."
"Okay," I muttered, still looking at the device. It was kind of like those kindle things, but you don't download books on these. It had a zoomed in map, a small town in the U.S.
"It hits your enemy. Your enemy is the next participant. She might go solo, which could be a good idea, or she could make a bunch of friends, become a gang. You can choose either or."
"What happens when I shoot someone?"
"You have to hit the enemy once, and then she dies. The same thing goes for whoever is her ally. In order to win you have to hit the enemy, the enemy. Do you understand?" I nodded.
"Good, in order to have someone join you, he or she must sign a paper. The papers your people must sign are hidden in an old brick building on 13th Street near Scott Road. Got it?" I nodded. "Got it,"
"You are not allowed to kill your enemy. It is physically impossible. Your enemy's allies are a different story, though."
"Oh, goody, I can't wait to kill a bunch of people." I sighed. My memory was on the Crank I killed in the underground at the Scorch with Brenda. Brenda, where was she? What happened to her?
"What happened to Brenda?" I asked Mrs. Hill.
"Brenda, oh," she smiled weakly, "Well, she's not dead. She's just fine, I promise." Something in the woman's eyes made me a bit more relaxed. I felt like I could trust her.
"Good, I don't want her dead," I chuckled, "Jorge, either."
She smiled, too. "Yes, they, ah, seem nice." She turned around and grabbed something, then turned back to me, handing it to me. "Backpack, you're going to need it. Here's a water bottle, a knife, wow. That is sharp." I could see her quickly putting her hands in her pocket, grabbing a Band-Aid out. "Ah, paper cuts," she chuckled.
"I think you're through with me. There's nothing else I can do." She sighed.
"Thanks," I said, slipping my backpack on my shoulders, after observing the knife. It was sharp; I could definitely cut something with it.
Mrs. Hill slipped out the doorway. The screen flipped on in front of me. I could see myself disguised in the upper right corner. A big picture of another disguised person was on the screen.
"What's going on?" The voice was disguised, leaving me with no clue who I was against.
"Are you the other participant?" I asked. My voice was disguised, too.
"Yes, but my name's-" her voice was cut off by a loud beep. I really hope she didn't say anything like that.
"They don't want us sharing our names." I said, sighing.
"Oh, I'm guessing you're my enemy."
"Yeah, hi, enemy,"
"Hello!" My enemy giggled. I laughed, too.
"So, see you in the, uh,"
"Arena, perhaps? Yeah, see you, too, I guess."
The screen cut off, and we were pushed into an elevator. I stood there for a minute, then I rose slowly into darkness.
My other friend made a profile, too. His name's zequin. Maybe he'll post some fan fictions . . . who knows?
So, how'd you like it? Please review! You can review on grammar, spelling, punctuation, ideas, how awesome on a scale of 1-10, etc.