A/N: Might as well finish it off...

He went silent as I took a breath, looking to Newt and nodded towards the driver. He just kept his foot on the peddle and the bus plowed forward, driving off into the night.

The next few hours was a blur of sights and sounds as I huddled closer to Newt, trying to gain some warmth from his body heat.

Minho laughed, but I was freezing.

The driver drove recklessly through towns and cities, the heavy rains blurring most of the view. Lights and building warped almost beyond recognition and watery. At one point, people outside swarmed the bus, their clothes ratty and red and yellow splotchy sores covered their terrified faces. I had stared, watching the woman outside our window as Newt pressed closer to me, away from the window. They pounded on the sides of the vehicle like they wanted to get on, to escape whatever horrible lives they were living.

The bus never slowed. Conversation came in quiet exchanges, shortly lived as each person resorted back into the depths of their own mind. Thinking.

It was a while before any of us even though to ask what was going one, and even longer before I decided to ask the woman sitting in the seat across from ours. I sighed, "What's going on?" I asked. Newt looked stunned at my sudden use of speech.

The woman looked over, wet hair hanging around her face, dark eyes full off sorrow as she sighed, "That, is a very long story," her voice came out kinder than I expected… but I wasn't convinced they were friends, not yet at least.

"Well, tell us something," Minho said.

The woman looked between the three of us and sighed, "It'll take a while before you get your memories back, if ever," she said, "We're not scientists, we have no idea what they did to you, or how they did it."

"Who are 'they'?" I asked.

"It started with the sun flares," she said, her eyes growing distant as if she wasn't looking at us anymore, but the past.

"What-" Minho began, but Newt hit his arm as she looked like she would start talking any second now.

"The sun flares… they could have been predicted. They're normal, but these were unprecedented, massive, spiking higher and higher- once they were noticed it was only minutes before their heat slammed into Earth. First our satellites were burned out, and thousands died instantly, millions within days, countless miles became wastelands. Then came the sickness." She paused, "As the ecosystem fell apart it became impossible to control the sickness- even to keep it in South America. The jungles were gone, but the insects weren't. People call it the Flare now. It's a horrible, horrible thing. Only the richest can be treated and no one can be cured. Unless the rumors from the Andes are true. As for you all, you're just a few of millions orphaned. They tested thousands, chose you for the big one. The ultimate test. Everything you lived through was calculated and thought through. Catalysts to study your reactions, your brain waves, your thoughts. All in an attempt to find those capable of helping us find a way to beat the Flare. Most of the physical effects are caused by something else. First the delusions start, then animal instincts begin to overpower the human ones. It consumes then, destroys there humanity. It's all in the brain. The Flare lives in their brains. It's an awful thing. Better to die than to catch it." The woman turned on focused on me, her eyes flitting to Newt and Minho. "You'll learn more in time. We live far north. We're sworn our lives to fighting WICKED. We can't lose our humanity, no matter the end result. You'll learn more in time. We live in the far North. We're separated from the Andes by thousands of miles. They call it the Scorch- it lies between here and there. It's positioned around what they used to call the Equator- it's just heat and dust now, filled with savages consumed by the Flare beyond help. We're trying to cross that land- to find the cure. But until then, we'll fight WICKED and stop the experiments and tests." She stopped, looking at the two boys and then back to me, "It's our hope that you'll join us."

She looked away then, withdrawing herself from the conversation and looking out the window.

I looked to Minho, who shrugged sinking back into his seat. Newt leaned back against the seat and draped his arm over my shoulders, "Okay?"

I nodded, "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine."

He rolled his eyes, pulling me closer, "Well, now I just know you're not."

I rolled my eyes in response, "I'm just cold is all."

He looked down at my torn-to-shreds clothing and laughed slightly. "Try to get some sleep."

I snorted, leaning against him, "Not likely."

He shrugged, "Suit yourself," he said, moving his arm from around my shoulders and leaning on me. I rolled my eyes, but smiled slightly as he rested his head on my shoulder and drifted off to sleep.

I did fall asleep eventually. My head lolling to rest against his.

I was jerked away by Newt's sudden movements as the bus stopped. We had pulled into a muddy parking lot that surround a decidedly non-descript building with several rows of windows. The rescuers shuffled nineteen boys and two girls through the front door and up a flight of stairs, then into a huge dormitory with a series of bunk beds lined up against the one of the walls, on the opposite sides were some dressers and a mirror. Curtains covered the windows.

I took all in rather distantly, too much had happened in the last twenty-four hours to be surprised by anything ever again.

The place was oddly colorful with bright yellow walls, red blanket and green curtains. It sort of clashed actually. And after growing accustomed to the drab grayness of the Glade… it sort of hurt to look at it. And the beds… real actual beds and fluffy red blankets, all made up fresh and new… the normalcy of it all was almost overwhelming. Too good to be true.

Minho said it best upon entering the new world: "I've been shucked and gone to heaven."

I wanted to smile, to throw myself onto the bed and laugh as hard as I could, but apprehension stopped me. There should be so many more here than just us. So many more… Chuck, and Alby, and Zart, and so many more. They should've been here too. Not just us.

Our bus-driving leader left us in the hands of about nine or ten men and women dressed in pressed black pants and clean white shirts. Their hairs perfect and faces clean. Hands too. And they were smiling of all things.

The colors. The beds. The staff. I wanted to smile too. But it didn't, because how could this be right? How could this be so bloody perfect? It couldn't be. It was too good. Too good to be true.

Beds were assigned, clothes (real actual girl's clothing! A pair of light blue flannel pants and one size too-big white button up) and bathroom things were passed out, and dinner was served. Pizza. It was real bona fide, greasy-fingers pizza. And I did smile at that, hunger trumping everything else. Most of the Gladers had been quiet throughout it all, maybe thinking as I was, or just scared that it would all vanish in the blink of eye. Gone. But there were plenty of smiles now. And after seeing so many faces of despair, it was almost unsettling. But I was smiling too now, revealing in the taste of pizza.

No one argued when soon after eating we were told it was time for bed.

They shuffled Teresa and me away before I could even say goodbye.

That's when I started being a pain. I'd been sleeping next to Minho and Newt for two years and these people suddenly wanted me in a room alone with Teresa. I pointed out that fact, but they still pulled me away. Teresa, rolling her eyes in annoyance. I figure if I just kept track of where I was going, I could sneak out and barge in on them. Haha, they'd be thrilled.

The room was… fine, with the same yellow paint and red blankets as the boy's room. No windows though and it was smaller, it held only a few bunks. Teresa smiled politely and thanked them as they shut the door. And locked it.

I cursed.

"What?" Teresa asked.

"They bloody locked the shuck door," I told her angrily.

"Why?" she asked.

I shrugged, jiggling the door knob.

"It's not going to open," Teresa said matter-of-factly.

"Really?" I said sarcastically, suddenly very irritated. "I hadn't noticed."

She held up her hands in mock surrender and sat down on the bed. "Just go to sleep, we'll see them in the morning."

Walking by the mirror I noticed, that I actually did have a figure underneath those baggy clothes I sloshed around in during the Maze Trials. Wearing the better fitting white shirt was… different, It was easier to move around without having to deal with all that excess fabric. And the pants were a nice touch as well, fitting perfectly around my hips and staying there. And I was clean for once, without a speck of dirt on me. My tan had washed away slightly, revealing that it had, in fact, been dirt.

But even that did little to calm my nerves. It might just have been paranoia. Maybe I have separation anxiety or something. I don't know. All I do know is that all my thoughts revolved around my boys. Newt and Minho and yes, Tommy. I now considered him one of mine. And in turning the light off and laying down in the bed I kept coming back to one thing.

Why would you lock in your guests?