Disclaimer: I do not own The Maze Runner Trilogy or The Kill Order

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: Sorry (again)! School is becoming rather difficult, and combined with the two other current fanfiction I'm keeping up things are getting out of hand. I'm going to start updating every Sunday, just once a week, which I think is still fair. (This story is beginning to wind down) Thanks for being so patient with my unreliable updates!

Chapter 35

Some time later the rest of the group was shuffled into the cell with them. No one spoke; everyone rehearsed their goodbyes in their heads, but no one said them aloud; to say them aloud would be like giving up, and no one wanted to acknowledge their imminent death.

Shortly after they were locked up a few guards came by with an armful of food and water bottles, which the teens ate up quickly. Hope filled the group, and everyone had the same line of thought-Janson wouldn't feed them just to kill them a few hours later, would he?

The hope simmered and eventually faded away as the minutes ticked away, and everyone waited in an umcomfortable way that would drive the most patient person mad. Everyone felt anxious, and their movements reflected that. Some paced the small cell, though it was barely big enough, and others simply sat against the walls. Thomas tried to sleep away the time as best as he could, but he kept thinking about Brenda and Minho. Where were they right now? Were they okay?

Would he ever get to tell them goodbye?

And Annie, Sonya, and Elizabeth also took up his mind. He had known them all, and though he knew they were dead it just didn't feel right. How could they be dead when he had just seen them alive and full of life only a day earlier? They had died without saying goodbye, and Thomas didn't want to end up like them.

There was a pit in him where he was sure most people had a soul. How could he have one after all he had done? He'd lied, killed, subjected teenagers like him to horrible trials, and he'd messed everything up. How was there still good in him after all that?

He had just about tore himself apart when Rat Man showed up with his twitching nose and perpetually sneer. He looked especially callous today. Thomas supposed that compared to Janson he could be a saint.

"So you are still alive, Mr. Edison," he remarked with blatant distaste in his tone. There went all of Thomas's hopes of survival, though he covered it up by doing a Minho-shooting back a sassy comment.

"So it would appear," Thomas replied. Janson threw a sharp glare his way.

"It would be in your advantage to be respectful towards me, young man, as your fate and that of your friends is in my hands." Janson stopped pacing and caught Thomas' eye. "Do you understand?"

Thomas didn't respond, and Rat Man continued to speak after a pause.

"All of you can, and will be, tried for treason against me. I expect you'll plead guilty. Maybe your deaths will be quick and easy. In my opinion they should be slow and painful. You have caused me more trouble than you're worth."

"Tried?" Teresa asked, laughable perplextion marking her features. "This isn't like the government used to be. If it were you'd be fired by WICKED already."

"I am WICKED, Miss Agnes," Janson snapped. "No one dares oppose me, for I am the most influential here."

"The only bloody person in this room that committed treason is you," Newt shot back. "Chancellor Paige is the leader of WICKED. We have only betrayed you, not her."

"Ava is dead," Janson replied, a smug smile on his face, a collectable gasp filling the cell. "I am in charge now. And as you kindly pointed out, you have betrayed me. The world will be mine, Mr. Newton, and there's nothing you can do except die."

Thomas felt a pit open up inside him. Ava was dead? Did that mean Dr. West was too? Had Janson finally taken her out? And what about their friends? Had he found them yet? Probably not, though, Thomas supposed, because if he had he would be rubbing it in their faces.

"At least we'll die knowing we did good in this world," Teresa coolly commented. "And when you die you'll regret being such a bastard."

"I hope you burn in bloody Hell forever," Newt added. Janson just chuckled, an amused expression decorating his face.

"Your threats mean nothing. Very valiant to face death so bravely, I might add, though it does nothing to help your little predicament. The trial is going to be later this afternoon. If by chance you do plead innocent I can assure you that the judges are biased in my favour. Have a nice last day." Janson walked out, and Thomas felt all hope escape him. His eyes burned and he wanted to cry. Where was the justice? After all he'd been through he was going to die like this?

"Don't give up, Tommy," Newt said quietly. Thomas felt a bitter laugh escape from his throat.

"Then what should I think? That we're just going to be magically saved? If Ava is dead it probably means that all her followers are, too. We're already dead, Newt. If you have any last goodbyes you should say them." Thomas didn't wipe away the tears that fell from his eyes. He didn't have the energy. He didn't have the energy to do anything anymore.

"It can't end like this. There has to be a way out. If there's one thing I learned from the bloody Maze it's that there's always a way out." Newt exhaled deeply. "It just may take a while to find the exit."

"It took you more than two years to find a way out of the Maze. We have hours. If there's a way out then we won't find it. Face it, Newt. Face the truth." Thomas looked over at him. Newt's gaze remained steady.

"You've dug yourself into a hole and now you buggin' think this is the end. I know there's nothing I can do to convince you otherwise. If you want to give up then go ahead. Have your own pity party. But I'm going to step up and be the leader." Newt moved away from him. For once Thomas didn't take the boy's words to heart. He wasn't the one who dug himself in the hole; they all had.

Thomas turned away from everyone and faced the wall. He traced the rough cement with his fingers, drinking in all his senses for the last time. He didn't want to die like this. He had promised Minho he wouldn't leave him, and now he was breaking another promise. He had so much he wanted to tell Brenda. Now he couldn't. He couldn't even say goodbye.

This must be how his mother felt when she had to give him away. She knew she was going to catch the Flare and die, and that she wouldn't be able to see the one she loved the most before the end. She wouldn't be able to say goodbye.

Thomas tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. How could it come to this? He didn't want to die. He wanted to live a long time and grow old with Minho and Newt and Teresa and Brenda. He wanted to die knowing he had lived a good life. Now everything was being cut short and he was only sixteen or seventeen.

At least he'd see Chuck again. And his parents. You had to go somewhere when you died. Maybe he'd be in a better place. Surely he'd be in a better place. Anywhere was better than this shuck-planet in this shuck life.

Light flooded the room again as several dozen guards entered. They all stood in a box formation with a path leading straight to the door of the cell. One stepped forward and opened it, and the teens were slowly lead to their imminent death.