"Tanya!" Newt bellows from the other room. "Take a look at this."
"What is it?" I inquire, making my way toward him. The broken shards of glass from the door pierce my boots, crunching as I walk. At the far end of the round room, Newt stares at a glass screen. His eyes narrow as they scan up and down it.
"It's Alby." His hand motions at his screen. A crease forms on his forehead. "They've got files on him."
"With videos," I comment. The layout is more familiar to me than I would have thought. Numbers label the video files with dates or some other form of identification.
Newt's shoulders slump as his gaze shifts down from the screen. His breathing shudders. "I just can't believe that Alby hurt anyone," his voice wavers, "he's always been good to me."
"I know," I state softly. "I'll take look at it."
Newt wheels backwards on his seat. Kneeling beside the computer, I press on one of the videos. A view of the Deadheads appears on the screen, but not from a normal angle; the perspective is like a bug or small creature lurking on the ground. The camera scampers across grass and foliage until I come into view; a strange sensation of unfamiliarity unsettles me. My own face is almost surprising to me. I've seen myself before, but never for very long. With my lack of memories, the mental image of what I look like eludes me most of the time. A wave of depression blankets my mind; every reminder of the memories that I've lost fills me with a sense of hopelessness.
On the screen, Alby's silhouette creeps up behind me. A sharp chill radiates through my spine; the vivid memory of him in the Deadheads comes back to me. My eyes lock to the screen as if glued to it. His knife glints under the moonlight; the wound in my side aches again, despite being healed. He stabs the knife into me in one quick motion.
Instantly, I close the video, refusing to watch more. As I recoil my hand, it shakes, vibrating profusely. My lungs beg for more air as my breathing quickens. All the moisture evaporates from my mouth.
"They were watching us," I scoff bitterly. "This whole time, everything we've been through, these people were watching. What kind of sick place is this?"
Newt remains silent, his gaze stuck to the screen in horror. After a few moments, he mutters, "What else is in that file?"
Browsing through the documents and videos, I continue my search. "Hold on, there's something here."
A strange note lies in his file - a list of names.
"Clint - A14. Isaac - A8. Wyck - A17. Tanya - A12. [Removed] Newt - A5. Minho - A7: these are the subjects chosen for termination. I requested this selection due to their positions within the Glader's social circles and ranks. Once the list was given to Subject A6 - Alby, he removed Subject A5 - Newt from the list. It was his main request along with his extraction from the maze project whenever possible. I will be entering the maze project personally to see to it that he survives; I hold high hopes that his recent stress has vastly improved the anti-bodies in his bloodstream and will lead to promising results. Signed: Teresa Agnes."
"It looks like a kill list," I affirm. "I think Teresa gave Alby a kill list."
Newt leans closer; his eyes dart around the screen. "Isaac's not here, neither's Wyck," he comments, "they both were killed, I'm sure of it."
"Why are only some names here? Also, not everyone on this list is dead. I'm not, neither is you or Minho," I add.
"This doesn't make any sense," Newt mumbles, furrowing his brow. "I think we ought to talk to Teresa."
As the words leave his mouth, I already begin to march across the room and over to Teresa who is staring blankly out the window.
"What did you do?" I point accusingly at Teresa. All eyes in the room turn to me, then back to her. "I read your file - your memories were never wiped. You're still working with whoever put us here, aren't you? You gave Alby a kill list - why?"
"What's going on?" Thomas asks, his voice trembling ever so slightly. He tilts his head towards Teresa. "Is that true?"
"I didn't orchestrate this whole thing!" she snaps, tossing her arms to the side. "I didn't kill anyone."
"But you had them killed, didn't you?" I retort. "Did you make Alby murder all those people?"
"I didn't make him kill anyone," she states, "You don't understand - none of you do! This whole place - the maze - it's a test, an experiment. Alby had already killed people before I gave him that list; all I did was make sure the people he would kill were important - that their deaths mattered!"
"This slinthead ain't making any sense!" Gally slams his fist against a table before pointing it at Teresa.
"How could their deaths 'matter?'" I question, folding my arms in annoyance.
Teresa sighs before continuing, "The worse things get, the more the stress and chemical levels in the bloodstream increase. When significant, or influential people die in the Glade, it makes this test that much more effective - it takes us closer to finding a cure! Instead of Alby killing just anyone, I gave him a list of people that would improve the test."
"Why would he do that?" I respond. "If Alby was already killing people, I'm sure he had a reason. What would he get out of this list?"
Teresa's eyes flare wide open; her jaw tenses. Cocking her head to the side, she turns her gaze back out at the sandy dunes.
"Teresa," Thomas adds, "what's going on?"
"You heard Tanya," Gally growls, "she put us here!"
Newt scratches his chin; after a few moments, he begins to speak, "If she put us here, maybe she knows the way out."
"Wait," Thomas interjects, "what did you mean, 'a cure?'"
Hey guys! I haven't wrote an author's note in a while, but I was watching Maze Runner recently and it really inspired me for my book. It's been quite a journey so far. After all these years, now I'm nearly at the end of the book! I hope you enjoy my writing and feel free to comment, I love looking at different thoughts and takes you had on the chapters, or predictions for what you think might happen - it encourages me to write more! God bless!
Greenie out!