Chapter 20

The streets inside the walls were bustling with people in white face masks and gloves. As they hurried to and fro through the majestic city, I walked swiftly towards the tallest, most imposing building.

The WICKED headquarters.

The shady-esque alley behind the back was where I decided to put the guard I had knocked out. I thought WICKED was supposed to be full of the smartest people, and yet they make some guards patrol alone.

I took his armor and badge, and snuck inside the door. Since guards are able to bypass the scanners, because they need their weapons, I was able to go through without any problem.

I climbed the front stairs to the elevator. It was already sitting at the bottom when I pressed the up button, but just as it was about to close, Teresa walked in.

She nodded at me, and pressed the button for floor 23.

I noticed the bloody cloth she held in her hand.

"You okay, Miss?" I asked in my manliest voice.

She glanced at me confused, then remembered what she was holding.

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just blood from a test subject that I wanted to experiment on." She said.

I leaned in a little.

"Which subject?" I asked.

She looked at me a little suspiciously, and slid it into her pocket.

"A2." She said.

I turned to face her fully.

"Thomas is here?" I asked, dropping the accent.

She whirled around in surprise.

"Cleo?!" She exclaimed.

I glanced around, but there didn't seem to be any hidden devices, so I nodded.

She inhaled slowly.

"If you want Minho, Thomas and Newt are already here. You can leave." She said, nervously edging towards the door.

I grabbed her arm.

"Newt's not immune." I said quietly.

She looked at me sadly.

"I thought so." Her voice caught in her throat.

Then the elevator stopped and she quickly walked out the doors. I was about to follow her when I heard a voice behind me.

"Well well well, if it isn't our favorite subject." Said the very snarky, arrogant male voice.

Slowly turning around, I saw there was a man standing behind me. He was lanky and tall in build, his beard and hair neatly trimmed, with stupid-looking glasses perched on the bridge of his long nose.

I faced him fully, my feet firmly planted, my chin and shoulders thrown back confidently. The man had a smirk that looked ridiculously like Janson's.

I hefted my weapon in my hand, not aiming at him, but ready if needed.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

The man snorted.

"Of course you don't remember me. You were unconscious. But my name is Ethan, and I was one of the doctors who healed you after the Griever attack." The man said snootily.

I looked around, then back at him.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" I chuffed.

He smiled.

"Well, C24, who else?" His smile was as far from pleasant as could be.

I spark lit inside me, and I raised my weapon.

"I have a name, slinthead." I growled.

He shrugged.

"So do I, but they just call me Doctor." He raised an eyebrow at me.

I raised one back, even though I was still wearing my mask.

"Would you happen to be related to Janson?" I asked.

The man, Ethan, nodded.

"He's my younger, ambitious brother." He said, turning around.

I lowered my weapon, confused.

"Where the shuck are you going, and why the hell would you turn your back on someone holding a weapon to you?" I exclaimed.

He looked back at me, and smiled coldly again.

"Because they'll deal with you." He replied simply.

I started to turn around, but something hit me really hard in the back of my head and the world went dark.

When I woke up, I was in a room that was all white. The ground, walls, and ceiling were all made of the same spongy, soft material. I sat up, rubbing my head. It was throbbing really badly, like it was growing but just didn't have enough space to fit.

I looked up and realized Ethan was sitting in a chair at a desk at one end of the room. Standing on either side of him was a person in a hooded sweatshirt, the hood pulled down over to cover their faces.

It brought back a faded memory, but I couldn't recall it. Ethan looked up as I groaned and pushed myself into a sitting position. He folded his newspaper and put it on his desk.

"How are you feeling, C24?" He asked.

I twitched when he called me that, and my brain shouted at him to call me by my name, but my mouth disobeyed and all I said was:

"Fine."

He nodded, an odd, satisfied smile on his face.

I glanced nervously at his accompaniants, hoping they weren't armed. He noticed my look, and waved at the two figures.

"Oh, these two won't hurt you unless I tell them to." He said nonchalantly.

I glared at him.

"So, how am I supposed to know you won't tell them to hurt me?" I asked him, and crossed my arms.

He smirked, and glanced at the person on his right.

"You don't." He looked back at me.

I stared at him, and he sighed. Standing up, he picked up a folder of paper.

"Do you want to know why I saved you?" He looked up at me.

I nodded slowly, cautiously.

"The board of directors thought it was to study the killzone patterns, how the other reacted when you came back," he stood up and paced around his table, "but I couldn't let you die. There is a special chemical in your brain, and your brain only, that reacts to intense stress, grief, and surprise." He stopped and looked down at the papers in his hand.

"That's why you had gone through all those terrible experiences. It was all planned." He threw the papers back onto his desk.

I stood, shocked, staring at my feet. Slowly, I raised my head.

"So Gabe's death, that was planned?" I asked quietly.

He nodded sadly.

"Unfortunately, it had to be done to activate the chemical. He was originally immune, but the doctors modified him once you reached the WICKED warehouse outside the Maze." His voice sounded heavy with remorse, but it sounded hollow, like he was faking it.

I clenched my fists, and glared at him.

"He was, immune?" I growled.

Ethan nodded again.

I smiled, unclenching my hands and relaxing my muscles. He looked at me, confused. This was not the reaction he expected.

"That explains it." I whispered.

He leaned forward.

"Excuse me?" He asked sharply, still taken by surprise.

My head snapped up, and I leaped forwards, my fist connecting with his jaw. He stumbled back, rubbing his face, and I jumped up, kicking him in the stomach. He fell to the floor, clutching his abdomen.

I stood over him, breathing heavily. I grabbed the neck of his shirt and brought his face closer to mine.

"In case you forgot what I told you shanks through that little beetle thing, I'm going to kill all of you personally if I can." I bared my teeth in a grimace. "And I happen to have one at my mercy."

Ethan cleared his throat.

"Well, not exactly." He croaked.

Just then I was grabbed by the shoulder and flung back against the wall. One of the hooded figures stood where I had been, facing me, protecting the doctor.

Slowly, its hands lifted the hood from it's face, and I once again stood face-to-face with Addy.

His face was ridden with horrible scars, courtesy of me, I suspected. I was momentarily paralyzed by shock, so I could do nothing when he swung at me. My head slammed back against the wall, and I saw a splatter of blood fall and stain the white floor.

I stood up and wiped my face. Ethan had also gotten to his feet, and was standing very cockily, his arms crossed, his hip slightly jutting to the side, and that annoying smirk on his face.

"You said you had me at your mercy, did you? Seems the tables have turned." He snickered.

I glared at him.

"Yeah, but even if you have Addy on your side, it doesn't matter who the other person is. I can still beat both of them and you." I sneered, blood dripping on my teeth.

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

"But would you be willing to?" He asked.

As if on signal, the other person raised their hands to their hood and lifted the hood off their head. I choked back a gasp.

It was Charlie.