*Just a quick heads up* Updates are going to be a little all over the place due to my school and work schedules this semester. There might be a couple chapters back to back or it might be a few days between, either way, I'm not going anywhere just bear with me if updates become slow! As always enjoy! And thanks for reading!
Thomas had told the rest of them what he had seen before half of them could get out of bed. They were more skeptical than Cleo was and it was a bit disheartening. He dropped it for the time being, but wasn't going to let the conversation become forgotten.
At breakfast, they ate quietly, sitting with the two boys from the day before. Cleo was silent mostly, enjoying new faces and new stories. Stories she hadn't experienced herself. When they were finished, they were escorted to a rec room of sorts. There were tables and couches, books to read, old movies, and anything else they could find that entertain teens.
By lunch, Cleo was starting to enjoy herself.
"Alice. Barry. Walt. Edgar. Samantha." Jansen read off the new list of names, standing in the middle of the cafeteria like he had the day before.
She picked at her food absentmindedly. Her appetite had dwindled since yesterday but the food was amazing. She was more or less forcing herself to eat it because of the mouthwatering sensation than she was actually hungry.
"I wanna know what's through that door." Thomas spoke beside her. When she looked at him, he was staring at the large gray doors on the wall furthest from them, she nudged his side softly.
Jansen called out another name. A boy stood up, high-fiving his friends, and joining the others on the wall.
"It could have been anything under there." Newt tried to reason with him. But concern was still the underlying tone in his voice.
Another name. Another boy.
"I know exactly what I saw. They were bodies." Thomas defended.
A girl this time. She hugged her friends, standing and moving to the others.
"Aris said they bring in a new batch every night."
"Who the hell is Aris?" Cleo straightened; Thomas hadn't mentioned the name last night.
He pointed to the boy sitting by himself in the corner. The others blinked and turned back around.
"Well, I'm sold." Minho scoffed.
Another name called. Another boy. Another round of high-fives.
"And last by not least," the room quieted, hopeful teens awaiting their name, "Cleo."
Her heart stopped. Eyes widening as her head shot up, staring at the man in the middle of the room. He stared at her with his shit-eating grin and her blood ran cold. He looks like a damn rat.
Around her the boys were murmuring with one another, disbelief clearly the universal tone. She swallowed and rose from her seat, only for Thomas to pull her back down.
"Cleo." Jansen repeated her name and the room turned to put a face to the name.
Thomas kept a firm grip on her wrist, leaning in, "You're not going anywhere."
"I don't have a choice," She breathed, prying herself out of his grasp, "I'll be fine."
When she straightened up, Thomas stood. She rolled her eyes.
"Now is not the time to be dumb, okay? If what you are telling us is true, figure something out. But right now, you're making a scene. And that's not going to help us at all."
He kissed her then. Finding nothing else he could do to assure her that he wasn't going to let her get hurt, he kissed her. In front of a room full of ogling teens, he kissed her. And she kissed him back. And for a moment, all his worries faded away. All the stress and bad thoughts disappeared and it was just him and her. It felt safe. It felt right. Comfortable. It felt like home.
Jansen's uncomfortable cough pulled them apart.
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I'll get you out of this. I'm gonna get all of us out of this." He promised.
She nodded, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, "I know."
Stepping away from him, she fell in line on the wall, ignoring the grinning teens that stared at her. Her eyes flickered to Jansen. His grin had gone, but his eyes still held an uneasiness. Looking at her friends one last time, she walked out of the room with the other chosen ones.
It was just what she had expected it to bed. Fluorescent lightings leading them down a long, white hallway, filled with beeping machines and people in white lab coats. Most of the doors were closed, the only ones open being offices. There wasn't anything on the walls and all the stares were hard and unwelcoming. Within minutes, all of the teens became antsy. Cleo kept her mouth shut, following Rat Man down the hall and towards a bunker of sorts.
For here, they were individually taken through a door. There was no explanation, no words of encouragement. Just their name called out into the thin hallway and then a quick "right this way", then the door closed behind them and they were left to wait for the next one.
"What kind of farm do you think it is?" The boy, David, spoke from in front of Cleo. He turned to lean against the wall, hands stuffing into his pockets.
She shook her head, glancing at him quickly before turning her attention back to the door, "No idea."
"Slaves." Came the girl in front of David. She was thin and tall, towering over Cleo. Even David seemed pretty stocky compared to her. They both looked at her, confused.
"I bet you anything it's like a concentration camp. I read about them once. Terrible place. They're going to torture us and make us slaves and then kill us."
David and Cleo looked at one another, straightening when the door opened once again.
"Sally?" The girl pushed off the wall, giving them a pointed look and followed the lab coat inside.
She would have hated the room if there was anything to hate. Everything was white, save for the bedframe which was a deep brown color. It smelled sterile like the medical ward, nothing about it inviting. She was alone for hours, slowly losing her mind in the silent room before the door opened. Dr. Crawford stepped inside, followed by a large serious looking gentleman. He didn't seem like one to talk much, head held high, shoulders squared. One hand rested on the gun at his side, the other hung limply.
"I have to take some blood," Dr. Crawford smiled, and Cleo threw the genuine assumption out the window.
"For what?" She countered, unmoving.
Dr. Crawford, slipped on a pair of gloves, opening the small container in her hands, "A few tests. Nothing extreme. Once we're done, you'll be moved on to the farm."
Cleo scoffed and raised an eyebrow, "Harvest season?"
The question made the doctor pause, eyes flickering from the girl to the guard. She continued as she was, pushing up her sleeves, "Please, make this easy on me, Cleo. I promise I'm not going to do anything bad to you."
"Maybe not directly." Cleo retorted.
"I don't want to have to do this the hard way." The guard lifted his chin even higher. Cleo weighed her options. Defeated, she let Dr. Crawford moved towards the bed. She lifted her arm, turning away this time. The process didn't take anywhere near as long as she had expected it to and just as quickly as she had arrived, Dr. Crawford left.
She was alone with her thoughts, long enough to decide that waiting for Thomas and the others wasn't going to work. Filling her head with fearful ideas and the worst possible scenarios, she decided it was time to get out. She had kept an eye on the hall, coming to her window in intervals. Things outside stayed quiet; no one came, no one went. She would have to act fast if she was going to get out. Next step of the plan was to figure out a way to break the window.
The bed was automatically ruled out. The frame was all one piece, and way too heavy for her to do anything with. She was left to make do with the small end table. Much like the bed it was all one piece, and with nothing to set on it and no drawers to put anything in, completely useless in her opinion. Breaking it seemed to be the next logical thing. Lifted it over her head, she tossed it across the room, cringing at the loud thud that reverberated through her room. To her relief, the table had scattered, breaking into jagged pieces. She grabbed one of the legs, weighing it in her hands momentarily.
The doors were simple; she had studied them earlier, while waiting for someone to come around. A handle of the outside, a simple key and lock system. She took her makeshift weapon and pounded at the glass window. It vibrated with each blow before a crack spidered its way across the bottom half. She mustered up as much strength as she could and swung the leg on last time, shattering the glass. It rained down on her feet and into the hallway.
Not choosing to waste time, she stuck her arm and tool outside the window and awkwardly swung at the handle. It took more effort than she would have liked to knock the handle away, but eventually it tumbled to the ground. Another loud crash, this time echoing down the hall.
It was only a matter of time now. Retracting her arm, she stepped away from the wall. Brute force would be needed now. She was still recovering from her days in the Maze, but a couple good night's rest and hot meals had strengthened her a bit. Turning so her shoulder was out in front of her, she hope for the best and took off towards the door. Her body slammed against it hard, air knocking from her lungs. She grunted as the door shook underneath her, but didn't budge. Stepping away, she shook of the pain in her left side and repeated it again. This time the door flew open, tossing her into the hallway. She yelped, sliding to a stop.
"Hey!" A voice bellowed from down the hall.
Cleo whipped around, eyes landing on the guard advancing. He didn't have a weapon, but was holding a small device to him mouth, speaking quickly into the speaker. She leapt over the crushed glass, taking off in the other direction.
Alarms rang out overhead, quickening her pace. She had no idea where she was, or where she was going, but she knew she couldn't stop. The hallways seemed to be never ending, all exactly the same. She came around a corner, stumbling to a stop. Jansen stood at the end, eyes hard. At least he's not smiling anymore.
"You always were the rebellious one," He spoke, head lower.
He took a step towards her and she backed away.
"One of Eva's favorites. You were smart, logical. Quick thinking. She hated the idea of you being one of the subjects."
Her eyebrows furrowed together. He wasn't making sense. He continued towards her, pushing her back the way she had come. And then, there was the shit-eating grin.
"You didn't think you really escaped, did you?"
Her heart dropped into her stomach. Tears stung her eyes and she shook her head. Wicked is good.
A sharp pain in her neck caused her to panic. Flight or fight instincts kicked in and she spun around to attacked whoever it was that had come up behind her. The turn made her head fuzzy, light and sounds coming in and out. She stumbled forward, the man catching her when her legs gave out.
"Don't fight them, Cleo."
The voice echoed through her head as the world around her went black.