The group found themselves eating dinner in the cafeteria, as empty and grey as the day before. Flor and Leen were barely eating anything, and the rest weren't in a much better condition. Not every day were they asked to meet with a higher-up of an organisation that apparently used children as lab rats.
"Something's not right," Leen mumbled to herself.
"What do you mean?" Flor turned her head to glance at Leen, whose fork kept poking a piece of meat.
"First, they took us to some building for months. With some strict tasks every week. Then they take us away from there. And now they're about to give us some important task for no apparent reason? It just doesn't add up." Leen let go of her fork angrily. "I'm tired of this crap, and we haven't even started."
"Maybe we're giving them more credit than they deserve," Rowan suggested. "Maybe they're just huge idiots."
"With the way they speak? No way." George shook his head after taking another spoonful of soup.
"And how come you're eating?" Henry questioned.
"I won't starve because a rat-faced man is about to tell us something we'll be literally forced to do. Our future selves can figure it out when it happens. Right now, I'll rather eat," George replied, resting his head on his hand.
"That's a sunny way to see the situation," Bea commented sarcastically.
Remembering his strange conversation with Thomas the day before, William decided to side with George. He still had to wait until the boy figured out a plan. So, for now, he would have to do the only thing he could; follow WICKED's plans.
"It's not a bad idea, though. Let's not give them even more power over us. It's not like we can do anything about it, anyway." He shrugged his shoulders, taking back his fork to finish his meal.
Some followed suit, and others took slightly more time to give in. However, in the end, no one wanted to show how much the situation affected them.
It was a surprise to them when, after dinner, Janson informed them that Chancellor Paige wanted to talk to them immediately. They followed him around the Sanctuary, which was more like a maze than a supposed refuge for the Immunes.
Walking through a panel door, the group glanced all around them. The vast room was filled with experiment cabinets on each side, only letting space for a couple paths. They got to the middle of the room, stopping before a projection of an unfamiliar room, way cleaner and more organised than the one they were currently in.
"Good evening, Doctor Paige." Janson greeted a woman that had just walked into the frame. "Lovely to see you again."
"Change of plans, Janson." The woman's voice was icy, almost uninterested in what the man in front of her was saying. "The cure's progress is slow. I was hoping we wouldn't have to face such a situation, but I'm afraid those who perform optimally during Phase One of the Maze Trials must continue to be tested for Phase Two."
Trials? Wasn't that what Thomas said yesterday? Something about altering the Trials. William thought, his eyes not leaving the woman as Janson demonstrated his confusion.
"Phase Two? I wasn't informed the Elites had come up with one yet."
"They haven't." Doctor Paige informed. "The Variables require Phase Two not to be known or thought of by the Elites. I just received board approval. You'll subtly push those chosen to perform their own break-out mission."
"Doctor Paige, those kids would die alone in the Scorch," Janson, impressively, tried to reason.
"They won't be alone." The woman then turned to look at them, Group S. "If I'm not mistaken, Group S hasn't begun their mission. The analysis we've received from the Maze Trials so far is satisfactory. We believe they could benefit from each other. Given the right amount of information, the most brilliant Subjects from Group A and B will guide Group S directly to the Right Arm. As so, Group S betrayal will be vital for Phase Two's success."
"May I ask if the Trials are close to the Ending?" Janson questioned.
"The Ending has been altered. We will introduce the Elites next week," Doctor Paige answered simply. "We estimate that in three weeks, at most, Group A and Group B will have finished Phase One of the Maze Trials."
"Might I suggest dividing Group S into two groups to introduce them to Groups A and B separately?" Janson said, making the group behind him share doubtful glances.
Doctor Paige nodded, then focused her attention back on the group. "You must be confused about the sudden pressure that's landed on your shoulders. Your mission won't be interrupted. In case of the Right Arm's discovery before Phase One culmination, some of you will infiltrate their compound to guide the others."
"So in these three weeks left we have to look for the Right Arm?" asked Mae, whose hand was trembling discreetly behind her back.
"Yes." The woman answered.
"What about if we don't make it?" William said nervously. "What if we fail?"
Chancellor Paige, presumably, looked directly into his eyes and replied, with the coldest tone any member of Group S had heard her use so far. "You'll be sent to Probation."
A chill ran down the group's spine. Whatever Probation meant, they did not want to find out.
Mae placed a hand on William's shoulder, telling him with her eyes that she didn't want him to ask any further questions. He complied silently and held her hand with his, trying to hide her trembling.
"Group S, remember, once you meet your respective assigned groups, make sure to introduce yourselves in a way they believe you're in the same conditions. It won't work otherwise. Not with Group A." The woman paused, giving a quick look to Janson before taking her eyes back to them. "Please, step out."
After nodding quickly, they walked away. They let the door close behind them, and Rowan and Henry immediately searched for a way to overhear Janson's and Paige's conversation. Luckily, they found a hidden, almost invisible, air ventilation at the side of the entrance.
" — he might recognise William despite the partial memory wipe. And we can't predict how that could turn out. It's suggested to keep them apart until Phase Two begins." They heard the woman's voice, quickly followed by a deep sigh.
"Understood," Janson answered.
Then, footsteps got closer to the door.
They all turned around and stood still, making it seem as if they hadn't overheard any of the prior conversation. Janson walked out of the room, analysing the group with his eyes.
"Follow me." He ordered.
The group followed the man silently around the maze-like building. They ended up in the infirmary, where they got separated into two groups. In Janson's words, "Those who could create trouble, and those who will stay still."
Apparently, the troublesome ones were Bea, George, Henry, and Rowan. Meanwhile, the calm ones were William, Mae, Leen, and Flor. With those divisions formed, the doctors were finally allowed to approach them. They scanned their right arms over their tattoos, which apparently also contained their WICKED identifications.
Great, so we're tagged. William thought.
Janson stared at them up and down while the doctors injected something in their arms and carefully covered their tattoos with bandages. One on each arm to not raise suspicions. Once they were done, he guided them, once again, through the corridors until reaching their room, which was a fair distance away from the maze's subjects' rooms.
Soft beeps sounded in Janson's pocket, which turned out to come from the same small object that he had used to call the Berg two days ago. He read something on the screen and looked up.
"Flor, Bea, Henry, and Mae. The four of you will be in Group B's Phase Two Trials. The rest, I doubt I have to tell you for you to know."
"How do we even tell you if we find the Right Arm?" Rowan huffed. "I mean, it's not like you can read our minds, can you?"
Janson didn't react to the cocky tone and replied impassively. "New tracking devices will be given to you. Press the button screen for twenty seconds, and it will send us a signal with your location."
Since there were no questions, Janson left the room, allowing them to express their frustration with the situation. There was no point in doing that. They knew it, but they couldn't help feeling furious at their situation.
"Three weeks? That's all we have to search for the Right Arm? And they add those kids to our list of worries? Do we look like some kind of babysitters to them?" Henry plumped down on Flor's bottom bunk, burying his face in the pillow to let it muffle his exasperated, long sigh.
"More people to take care of. Out there, of all places." Mae rubbed her forehead tiredly as she sat down on William's bottom bunk, facing Flor's. "Many are going to die. They must know that already, right? And what's all that about that he and his relation to William? How could he break the memory wipe?"
"Doctor Paige must have very high expectations of us if she thinks we can save them from dying. We can barely fight off twenty Cranks with only our knives. Imagine doing that weaponless and having to keep the A's and B's alive," William commented while sitting down beside Mae on his bed. "He . . . I don't know. I can't remember a thing. But I must know him, right? I mean, why would he recognise me if not?"
George pushed Henry's legs to the side, so he could take a seat on the bed. "He has to be from Group B, no doubt. That woman told Janson not to put you together with him just yet, and you're assigned to Group A, so he must be a B."
"If we take the strange kid aside. Group A sounds like they'll be the most difficult to convince. That woman might be half-crazy, but I don't think she lied." Leen sat on the ground beside Bea, who was being especially clingy.
"Yeah, good luck with them." Bea laughed, rubbing Leen's arm to assure her that she was just joking.
"Thanks," Rowan muttered with a chuckle.
"We'll need as much luck as we can get with both. Group B, too," Mae complained, not something anyone was used to seeing her doing. "I liked only having one Birdie at a time, darn it. And now they'll give us like twenty out of nowhere. I want my peace and quiet back."
"Yeah . . . We're definitely not getting that until we finish the mission." Flor shrugged.
"Let's just go to sleep. There's no point in complaining, anyway. Even if we refuse, they'll force us to do it." Rowan climbed the ladder to the top bunk over Flor's. "It's not like we have to become best buds with the A's and B's, so forget it. We'll help them escape, and they'll help us finish this darn mission. What happens after, it's up to them. No one here will go through Probation, whatever that is. Every group for themselves."
"Every group for themselves," George repeated under his breath, not entirely convinced. He fell silent, scratching the back of his neck as he turned to get on his top bunk, over William's. "It's still not right."
"Of course, it's not, George. We all know that," Flor said with a sympathetic tone. "But we can't do anything. We're eight kids. No memories, no family, and we can be controlled by WICKED. Like it or not, we can't help them."
William got up from his seat to pat his friend's shoulder. "No one likes it, George, but there's no other way."
"OK, everyone, get out of your beds." Mae clapped her hands once to get their attention. "Today, we vow to bury our feelings and thoughts about the mission. We'll be what WICKED wants, but just until the mission's over. We will get those kids to the Right Arm, betray them, and then get the hell out of there. Do you birdies agree?"
They all exchanged dubious glances. George turned to look at William, who so far didn't know how to reply to Mae's suggestion. He knew something the rest didn't, and the new mission was only complicating what he had planned, or rather what he was planning, with Thomas.
"Unless we find another way, OK." William nodded, receiving everyone's attention.
"What do you mean, 'another way'?" Bea asked.
"Well, they must have a reason to want to take down the Right Arm, right?" William began, making his reasoning up as he talked, "if they're taking kids from WICKED, they might be trying to get the bloody cure in another way that's not giving hell to the Immunes."
"And what does that have to do with us?" Henry questioned.
George and Leen widened their eyes simultaneously. "They must have medical resources."
Mae and Flor smiled, knowing what the three were implying. Henry and Bea took a couple of seconds, but came to the same conclusion as well. If the Right Arm had medical resources to search for a cure, they could help them out. Either that or have their entire compound revealed to WICKED, who they were sure wanted to see the leaders of the Right Arm dead.
"Alright," said Mae. "We take these kids out, keep them alive while they lead us to the Right Arm, see what happens, and then, every group for themselves. We won't stay, so don't get too friendly."
"Sure will. But where will we go?" asked Rowan. "North? South? A city? We know nothing."
George kept his eyes on the ground. "The Right Arm should have information about that, too. We'll ask them. If not, we could always make some demands in exchange for their safety, right? We'll have the upper arm. We'll know where their compound is, how many Immunes they have, and the contact with WICKED."
"Now you're talking like a soldier." Rowan chuckled, forcing George to lean down by placing an arm over his shoulders. "I say we go with his plan."
"Just promise you won't go overboard with the demands," Flor said, folding her arms over her chest. "Torture is not accepted, either. Not even to get the information."
"We'll try," promised Henry.
Hours later, William lay in his bed. He concentrated on Thomas, or his idea of the boy, trying to send his words to him. It had been silent for a while, which was strange. Only yesterday they had spoken, so why did it feel so alone that night?
'Thomas?' He paused, no reply. 'Thomas, come on, I need to talk to you. It's important.'
William tried time and time again, but there was no reply. He didn't feel Thomas' presence either. It was weird, like something was missing. Somehow, it wasn't only Thomas; it was something, or rather someone else. William felt strangely empty.
I'll try tomorrow. He thought while snuggling his pillow under the covers, letting sleep overpower him.
A light appeared out of nowhere, which almost seemed like it was directed at his eyes. There it stood, a little kid, no older than twelve. His short, though messy, blonde hair shone under the artificial lights like glitter had been dumped on him.
He had a feeling, but it wasn't until the boy talked that he realised it was the same boy from his previous dream.
"We could get married when we're older," the kid suggested. "Doctor Paige said that when the cure's done, we can leave. Let's get married then."
A chuckle involuntarily left his mouth, or rather, his dream self. "That'll take ages . . . and you'll be in the maze without memories, so you won't even remember."
"But you'll remind me, right?" The kid said hopefully. "I do want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Crank or not."
"You could get infected if I become a Crank."
"I guess we can always become the first Cranks to ever get married."
He elbowed the boy as a joke. "Be serious, Newt."
The covers were the only protection keeping William from falling to the floor. At moments like that, choosing to sleep on the bottom bunk made him feel relieved. He let minutes pass by in the tranquillity of the early morning before getting up and preparing everything for the first day of the mission.
He tried contacting Thomas, but there was no reply yet again. The lonely feeling didn't dissipate, nor did it decrease. It just stayed idly at the back of his mind, not letting him completely ignore it or understand its presence.
"You OK?" George asked as he descended from his top bunk.
"Yeah," William muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "Just thinking."
"Hopefully not about murdering us," joked George. "Are you nervous about the mission?"
"Well, yeah. Not to the murder, to the nervous bit." William walked over to his bed, taking a seat to hug his knees to his chest. "We barely know a thing about the Right Arm. But, rather than not finding them, it's finding them that scares me. Some will have to go there. What if they get found out? What if the rest die on the way to the Right Arm with the A's and B's? Not being able to do anything for them . . . I think that might be my worst nightmare."
George sat beside him, laying an arm over his shoulders. "William, no one here will die easily. It's more probable that Rowan or Mae would get fed up with the kids and kill them than letting us all die. And, let me tell you, we have some strict rules about killing. Those kids are safe, no matter how annoying they might be."
Somehow, hearing his friend's words made William feel better. He didn't know exactly what he found reassuring, or why. He was supposed to know a boy, but had no memories of him. Something about Group A called his attention, though he didn't know what. The boy in his dreams felt strangely real. And then there was Thomas, who he had no idea what or where he was. It was probable he wasn't even in any of the groups. Judging by the way he spoke, he could be part of WICKED.
"Good . . ." William thought for a second, a strange expression popping up in his mind. "Good that."
"Good what?" George questioned with an eyebrow raised. "That's some weird expression."
"As if 'sure will' wasn't weird, too." William chuckled, brushing the back of his neck with his right hand. "I don't know. It just popped up in my head. I may have used it a lot before. I mean, just because we have no bloody memories, it doesn't mean our habits died with them, too . . . right?"
"Nope." Henry declared abruptly, though in a low tone to not wake up the girls, as he descended from his bunk bed. "If not, you tell me how else Bea and Leen fell in love that fast."
"Are we defining love as a habit now?" asked William, slightly amused.
"I don't know. You tell us. Fancy anyone, or are we still hating love?" Henry said.
"Sorry, mate. Not in love." William shrugged with a soft laugh.
Although, I might have a fiancé somewhere. He thought, chuckling to himself about how absurd that sounded.
"Am I not attractive to gay guys?" Henry complained under his breath, giving George a dramatic exasperated look, which the taller boy copied.
"Hear me out," William smirked. "It might sound incredible, even hard to believe, but maybe you're just not our type."
"Oh, a type," commented George enthusiastically. "So you got a type. Come on, tell us. Share your secrets."
"You're creeping me out, man," said William, fighting the urge to laugh at George's feigned disappointment. "I don't know . . . kind?"
Henry chuckled, sitting on the floor right in front of them. "You couldn't have gone for something vaguer, could you?"
"Oh, I'm sorry that I didn't have a full list prepared in case you asked about it."
"Disappointing." Henry shook his head lightly, causing George and William to laugh rather loudly for how early it had to be.
"You're noisy," Mae mumbled, burying her face deeper in her pillow. "I'm trying to sleep. Tone it down."
"Yes, ma'am."
