A/N: Again, thanks to everyone – 900 reviews is just cray-cray! (Yes, I did just type that.)

So, who's seen the Hunger Games movie? I saw it yesterday (it only just came out in South Africa) and I was pretty impressed; some scenes were meh but overall, it was a pretty fly adaption. What about everyone else?


Chapter 27 – The Maze

The Iggy mystery was solved the next day; I heard a whitecoat mention that he had been in quarantine, apparently he'd picked up some virus. I literally bumped into him while running through a maze. We'd both been turning a corner and SMACK – I ended up with a faceful of Iggy's chest.

"Iggy!" I said, amazed to see him again. He looked terrible. His skin was pasty – not the soft, creamy white it used to be, but his veins were prominent. His hair was as short as mine – his pretty strawberry blond hair that fell just enough to cover his eyes was gone. Rings showed under his eyes, like smudges of bruise.

He smiled when he saw me. "Good to see you again, Max," he said. "But if we don't move, we'll get shocked...so, I'll see you soon. Also, avoid the door on the North-East side."

I nodded in thanks. With a flash of a grim grin, he started jogging again, disappearing from my view. I sucked in my breath and turned another corner, nearly yelling out when I saw the floor layered in six-inch, needle-thin spikes. I killed my momentum before I could tip into the needle bed. I looked around the corridor, looking for something that would help me. A thin bar ran the length of the needle bed, next to the left wall.

I didn't have time to think about it – I edged my way along the thing, praying that I wouldn't fall down. If I did, I'd probably be spending several days on a metal table while doctors pulled spikes out of my side. Not a pleasant thought.

I made it across and carried on running, turning between points and trying my hardest not to slow down and show signs of weakness. I jumped over huge boxes taller than me, dodged projectiles; the works. The ultimate sin in this place was weakness. If you throw up, you get back on your feet. If you get shocked, you stay quiet. When they make you run until you're puffing and aching, you never ask for a break.

It was an unspoken rule amongst the experiments. The whitecoats seemed more likely to do the more lethal experiments on the ones that were more likely to die soon anyway. It's always good to know you're in safe hands, right? Don't forget that next time you go to the hospital. At least you know that you can leave, or say no to a procedure. Such luxuries you take for granted.

I turned another corner, seeing the very welcome bright lights. The whole maze was lit poorly, and they let a single shaft of light through to let the runner know that they finished the maze. It was the only time I was happy to the fluorescents.

"Shall we send it in again, sir?"

Ugh. No. Not again.

"I believe five-oh-eight has an appointment with the Melior line. Make sure it's rehydrated first, though. Oakland always throws a fit when the experiments aren't in best form."

Dread grew in my stomach. The Melior line was the more official term for the Erasers. An appointment with them either meant that I was going to be shredded alive or I'd have to fight my way out of something pretty grueling.

I didn't fight as someone injected a clear liquid into my arm. It was probably to replace some chemical I lost or something like that. Might as well be in tip top shape for whatever was going to be thrown at me. After a couple of minutes – or maybe it was ten? – someone handed me a water bottle. I drank the water gratefully, still catching my breath. I was sitting in a corner, being as unobtrusive as possible. No point in having someone kick me, now was there?

The water tasted strange. It probably was laced with vitamins...or drugs, most likely. Either way, by the time I was done drinking, my muscles felt stronger and less pained, my breathing more even. My heart started to clear.

Someone took me by the back of my gown and pulled me upright. I straightened myself up, wobbling a bit on my feet. "Oakhill is going to be so pissed when he sees the state it's in."

"Oakhill will just have to suck it up. We have our own jobs to do, too."

"It is a she, okay?" I snapped. "And if Oakhill has a problem with me, I'll just show him in what working order I'm in."

One sneered at me. "He's the one that's going to make you into masterpieces. Be grateful. Millions of people would literally kill to be in yoru position"

"For being put through a maze against my own will, being electroshocked every time I do something wrong, and having people operate on me daily? Oh yeah, I can barely contain my gratitude." I said, my anger bubbling in me. I stared at the whitecoats, waiting for one to retaliate. "And I'd be happy to give up this position for someone else."

"Room fifty-eight," one said after a moment. "Move."

After a couple of minutes of being led (read: dragged) down corridors, I was in front of room fifty-eight. I had a tough time figuring out the architecture of the School, seeing as I almost never saw windows. There were several long, gently curving passages, lined with doors on each side, and the only way to move between the hallways was to move through the rooms, which all had two doors on either side.

Room fifty-eight was a change from what I was used to seeing at the School. Instead of tables lined with whatever hells the place had to offer, there was a springy mat stretching from one side of the room to the other. A moment later, Fang entered through a door on the opposite side of the room.

"Hey," I said. "Fancy meeting you here." I couldn't help but feel some hope bloom in me when I saw him, my heart thudded just a bit. We'd kissed. No, we made out.

Fang nodded at me. "What a coincidence," he said pleasantly. As if we were chatting in a supermarket, talking about the weather. "It seems that I hardly ever see you these days."

"Yes, my schedule has been hectic," I said truthfully. "Getting maimed here, illegal surgery there... Just so many activities filling up my day."

Fang smiled faintly, looking gloomy. "I seem to spend a lot of time being held against my will," he said. "Some bastards keep on making me run mazes and shove me into a cage. Small world, eh?"

"We certainly have been busy, haven't we?" I replied. I knew someone had to be listening to our conversation. Like we'd ever be left alone.

Fang stayed on his side of the room, and for a moment I felt a bit hurt. Was I too vile now to even approach? Was staying away from me part of his revelations he made since we got here? Of course, I didn't call him out on it. Why would I let anyone know there's trouble in lovers' paradise?

"So, Max, what do you think we're doing here?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine," I said truthfully.

"Well, my guess is that they're hoping that if they leave two experiments together and alone for long enough, they'll be tempted to try out procreation."

It was good to see that Fang hadn't lost his sense of humour. "And do you want to prove them right?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Well, do you have better ideas to entertain ourselves?"

"Scrabble?" I suggested. "I spy with my little eye is also a timeless classic. We'd probably keep going for three rounds here." I looked pointedly around at the sparseness of the room.

Fang leaned against the wall behind him, wincing slightly. It was barely a twitch of the eye, but I caught it. I crossed the room, feeling naked and exposed, like anything could kill me on the way between the two sides of the room. I slid down next to him, so that we sat side-by-side.

"What do you think the delay is?" he asked.

"They're probably either observing the way we interact with each other, or Iggy uncovered the stash of explosives."

Fang nodded. "Have you seen Iggy yet?"

I nodded. "I saw him this morning, in the maze." I frowned for a second, thinking harder. "Maybe it was this afternoon."

Fang nodded in understanding. Keeping track of time and knowing what happened when was getting increasingly difficult, since we had no natural light. Maybe we just stopped caring. I could see that Fang wanted to say something more. He bit back on his sentence and started with a different train of thought. "I heard Iggy's going in for some pretty serious surgery at the end of the week."

"Eye operation, I think." I replied, looking around the room again. I spotted the black glossy plastic that indicated a camera. I stared at it for a second or two, just letting whoever was watching know that I knew that they were there. Watching me watch them.

I could feel Fang's body heat radiating off him. I reveled in it, wanting to get closer and put my arms around his body, pressing him closer to me so that I knew I had something to hang onto. Of course, I didn't. I didn't dare my rest my head on his shoulder while there were other people watching us, taking down notes of how we interacted. I knew that Fang valued his privacy above most things, and displaying any affection to him here would be something that he hated.

For a moment, Fang's hand reached out towards mine. A second later, it was settled back onto his lap again, wringing the two together. Giving himself something else to focus on. "I was there, you know." He said.

"When?" I asked, letting some confusion creep into my voice.

"The day you...arrived. Your first operation."

I let his implication seep in. Suddenly I felt dirty and exposed. I crossed my arms over my chest automatically, hugging myself. "Sorry you had to see that," I said honestly.

He shrugged. Again, I could see unspoken words dancing in his eyes. He glanced at me, trying to silently communicate. It was his own apology, I think. Him saying sorry for this situation where we in. That we were sitting against a wall wearing paper while people took notes of everything we did.

Fang had seen me naked, I realised.

A month ago – wait, how long had I been away from home? A week? Three? – I would've totally freaked out at the idea, feeling violated and grossed out and disgusted beyond belief. Now, however, I could only just accept that. It was part of being an experiment. A naked body is a just someone without their clothes on, someone that is either being washed or undergoing a messy procedure. Sex and the pathetic state of people here just couldn't be put together here.

I still couldn't hide the slight blush that crept into my cheeks. If it had been anyone else, I guess I could've taken it in my stride. But Fang was another matter entirely. I'd touched him, kissed and held him. I couldn't take that back. It was just so different.

"They let me leave shortly after, though," he tried to reassure me.

I nodded numbly. What else could I say? It's cool, we're both pretty much on our way to grisly deaths, does it really matter about whose junk we might see?

We sat in silence for a bit, enjoying each other's company, knowing that these kind of moments would be rare. There was something steadily reassuring about being with Fang. Maybe it was because this was the first real peace I had since I had gotten here – how many days has it been, anyway? Two weeks? Three days?

I really didn't know. It was something scary, let me tell you, not knowing things like that. I sat in contemplation for a bit, wondering how long it would take me to die.

After a couple of minutes, the door finally opened, and three Erasers stepped in.

"I dibs the girl," one said, before starting to morph.


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