It was headed towards us and it was getting louder still. It rattled my eardrums and shook my skull, seeming to move the very ground we stood on. The wind then began to pick up, and if the sky wasn't so blue and clear and there wasn't a strange looking plane like thing in the sky I'd be worried about another storm.

Minho was shouting, but I couldn't hear him over the noise. He was pointing to the North. That seemed to be where the Berg thing was headed. But before I could do anything the wind was picking up again, blowing dirt and dust and sand up in the air. After inhaling a bit of it and then coughing it back up I put up my hands in an attempt to shield myself from the mini-projectiles now floating about.

And the process started over again, Newt's free arm wrapping around me as if to shield me from the windstorm that had taken over.

Once recovered I stumbled backwards in shock and nearly knocked Newt and myself over. The others were standing in shock, staring at the approaching figures. They were dressed in these huge baggy dark green one-suits with yellow lettering spelled across their chests. WICKED. And that about scared the klunk out of me. That was without the creepy gasmasks they were wearing which were scary in their own right.

They pushed Brenda away from Thomas and picked him up. He screamed in pain and I lunged without thinking, moving toward him. I suppose I was impulsive like that. Newt, however held me back, his arms wrapped around me.

And then they were gone, Tommy with them.

The next time we saw our dear Tommy-boy he was hanging in mid-air being lowered from the large plane, er, Berg thing while strung to a canvas litter as we stared up at him from below. Eventually he did reach the ground and at that time I let out a breath of relief, rushing alongside the others to his side.

And then the Berg think was gone… almost as if it had blinked out of existence.

However, we were a bit more focused on Tommy than the disappearing flying craft.

And everyone was speaking at once.

"What was that all about?"

"Are you okay?"

"What'd they do?"

"Who was that?"

"Have fun in the Berg?"

"How's your shoulder?"

"You alright?" I asked him.

Tommy nodded in response to seemingly everything and attempted to sit up, only to be held in place by the bonds that held him. "A little help here?" He asked looking to Minho and I.

We set to untying him and them helping him to his feet where he then proceeded to stretch out his muscles and blatantly ignoring the wave of questions hot at him.

"What are you guys doing out in the open? Your skin is gonna bake!"

No one answered as Minho simply pointed back at shabby hut we'd just run out of. "We'd better get back under that thing," Minho added.

Brenda sort of wormed her way next to him as we trekked back to the make-shift shelter. She didn't say a thing, however and that seemed to put Tommy on edge. When he'd gotten shot she'd been angry for some reason, but afterwards she barely left his side and if she wasn't with him she was with Jorge. My only concern regarding the whole ordeal was what exactly Tommy was thinking. He and Teresa had seemed to have a sort of connection. Hell, they could talk in each other's heads! So, my wondering was, did he care for Teresa, or was he pursuing this thin with Brenda? She certainly had a soft spot for him.

The other boys wouldn't quit asking him questions and I swear I heard Thomas say he'd explain everything once we were settled about a million and one times.

The city was a few miles behind us, in all its maddened glory. Not a sign of Cranks to be seen, which was a relief. The mountains lay ahead to the north, perhaps a day or two away, looming overhead. Craggy and lifeless, sloping higher and higher and higher until they saw fit to end in a jagged brown peak.

"Alright," Minho began, pointing Thomas over to a far spot in the corner of the shade, "You sit there, get yourself all nice and comfy, and start talking."

Tommy sat down cross-legged on the hot and dusty ground, looking only slightly uncomfortable as everyone gather in a half circle around him. I t was comical really. Like he was some sort of shuck school teacher about to give a lesson. I sat down nest to Newt, Brenda taking a seat on my other side and then Minho beside her.

"You sure about this?" Thomas asked unsurely, "How many days left to get over those mountains?"

"Five, Tommy," I told him, "But you know as well as we do we can't go tramping around in this sun with nothing to protect us."

Minho nodded in agreement. "You're gonna talk, then we're gonna sleep, then we're all gonna bust our humps walking all night. Get on it."

"Good that," He nodded and then looked at the crowd with a slight upturn to his lips. "Save all your questions till the end children."

Oh, har de har har, Tommy.

When not a sould besides myself smiled or even laughed, he coughed awkwardly and hurried onwards. "It was WICKED that came and got me. I kept passing out but hey took me to some doctors who totally fixed me up. I heard them saying something about how it wasn't supposed to happened, how the gun had been a factor they hadn't expected. The bullet set off a nasty infection in me and I guess they felt pretty strongly that it wasn't time for me to die."

No one said a word.

"Just telling you what I heard," He said before going on to explain in more detail. Things about 'killzone patterns' and 'Candidates'. More about the Variables we'd heard about. None of it was very clear and it seemed Tommy was having some trouble remembering it all.

"Well, that really cleared things up," Minho said in conclusion. "Must have something to do with those sign about you in the city.

Thomas shrugged, seemingly unconcerned with them. "Glad to see you're so happy to see me alive."

"Hey," Minho said, "If you wanna be the leader, no skin off me back. I am happy to see you alive."

"No thanks," Tommy replied, "You keep it."

Minho didn't respond and the clearing fell silent for a moment before Newt pushed himself onto his feet with a deep scowl of concentration of his face. I could wait for us to get old. I'd have to much fun telling him all those wrinkles came from him scowling like that… of course, there was that very large possibility of us dying before that happened…

"So we're all potential candidates for something. And maybe the purpose of all the buggin' klunk we've been through is to weed out those who don't qualify."

I caught on to his line of thinking quickly and jumped up beside him. "But the whole gun-and-rusty-bullet fiasco wasn't part of the plan, er, tests… or Varibles."

Newt nodded, "If Thomas is gonna croak and die, it wasn't supposed to be from a bloody infection.

"What this means it that they're watching us, " Minho said thoughtfully, "Just like they did in the Maze. Has anyone seen a beetle blade running around anywhere?"

Several Gladers shook their heads 'no'.

"What they hell's a beetle blade?" Jorge asked one eyebrow raised suspiciously.

Thomas answered for the group. "Little mechanical lizard things that spied on us with cameras in the Maze."

Jorge rolled his eyes, turning away from the group. "Of course, sorry I asked."

"The maze was definitely some kind of indoor facility," Aris added in. "But there's just no way we're inside something anymore. Though, they could be using satellites or long-range cameras, I guess."

Jorge cleared his throat, turning back to us, seeming intrigued. "What is it about Thomas that makes him so special? Those signs in the city about him being the real leader, them swooping in here and saving his butt when he got all sicky-sicky." He looked at Thomas then, "I'm not trying to be mean, muchacho –I'm just curious. What makes you better than the rest of your buddies? And why is she the only girl?" he said looking at me now. "Why have all you boys here, and then throw her in with the mix?"

"I'm not special," Thomas said with a shake of his head. "You heard what they said. We have lots of ways to die out here, but that gun shouldn't be one of them. I think they would've saved anybody who'd gotten shot –it was the bullet that messed things up."

"Still," Jorge shrugged with a smirk, "I think I'll stay close to you from here on… and that doesn't answer my question about MaC here. What's the point of having all you guys and then her? Why only one girl?"

"Probably another one of those bloody 'Variables'," I muttered, "See how they react when a girl's thrown in the mix, see how I react to being surrounded by boys every second of every day of my bloody life."

Newt nudged my arm, subtly telling me to calm down.

"Doesn't matter," Minho interjected, standing up, "MaC's one of us."

A few more discussions broke out, but Minho didn't let them go on for long. He insisted that we all needed some sleep if we were planning on marching onward the whole night long. There was no complaint from me, sleep sounded like a good idea.

There were still no blankets and pillows, so I pulled Newt down beside me and situated myself so I could use him as a pillow. He grumbled, though the sound somewhat resembled a laugh, and moved, squirming and changing positions so that in order to get comfortable, I had to move.

He laughed, his whole body moving as he did.

"Stop moving," I grumbled, swatting at his arm and trying to get comfortable.

He grinned lopsidedly, laying on his back and letting me use his chest as a pillow, my head rising and falling in time with his breathing. I fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and the subtle breathing of those around us.