HEY HEY HEY I'M BACK ENJOY THIS
I watch in mute horror as the man grabs Brenda by the collar and starts to carry her to the ledge, her feet kicking the entire way. Blake moves in front of Nandini, shielding her from him, trying to protect her the best he can. I, personally, want to pummel the man from WICKED for even hurting a single person after what we've been through. He gets about halfway. Brenda's face is morphed in pain and fear, pale as she glanced over her shoulder at the open hatch of the Berg.
Thomas moves quick, slamming the man's knees causing him to fall to the floor. Brenda falls to the side, precariously close to the edge, but Teresa catches her and pulls her away from it. Thomas puts his forearm on the man's throat, reaching for the gun with his other hand. I feel like cheering him on as he jumps away and holds the pistol with both hands.
" No one else dies, " Thomas says, breathing heavily. I'm shocked that the shank actually did what he did. " If we haven't done enough to pass your stupid tests then we fail. The tests are over. "
I nod my head in agreement. I should have done something like Thomas did, but the thunder booming outside keeps me seated and safe. The man from WICKED smiles.
" My name's David, " He says as the cargo door begins closing. The squeak of its hinges grates against my ears, and I resist the urge to cover them with my hands. " You're right. It's over. You don't have to worry anymore. "
" Yeah, we've heard that before. This time we mean it. We're not going to sit back and let you treat us like rats anymore. We're done. " Thomas says as David's eyes scanned the cargo hold. I want to flip him off—that's what Louisa would have done.
" What you don't understand is that everything has gone and will continue to go as planned. But you're right, the Trials are complete. We're taking you to a place of safety-a real place of safety. No more test, no more lies, no more setups. No more pretending. " He pauses, taking a moment to let what he just said sink in. I don't believe it, not one word. " I can only promise one thing. When you hear why we've put you through this, and why it's so important that so many of you survived, you'll understand. I promise you'll understand. "
I can't help it. " That's the biggest bunch of klunk I've ever heard in my life. "
Newt, seated on the other side of the room, follows my statement with: " If you won't lie to us, then tell us where to took Louisa. Tell us why she was taken. "
David cocks his head to one side, a malicious smile on his face as he looks at Newt, and then at me. " The girl…. Louisa, she isn't who you think she is. "
I open my mouth to respond, to snap at him for telling us that we, her friends don't know her, but Thomas cuts me off with a glance over his shoulder.
" And what about the cure? " Thomas says and I glance at Newt to see if he's satisfied with that response. His eyes seem unfocused, like he's staring at a spot on the metal wall, just thinking. " We were promised. For us and the four who helped us get here. How can we believe anything you tell us? "
Newt's eyes suddenly focuses, and he glares at David.
" Think what you want for now, " David says, " Things will change from here out, and you'll get the cure, just like you were told. " Will Louisa get the cure? " As soon as we get back to headquarters. You can keep that gun, by the way—we'll even give you some more, if you'd like. There'll be nothing else for you to fight against, no tests or trials to ignore or refuse. Our Berg will land, you'll see that you're safe and cured, and then you can do what you want. The only thing we'll ever ask you to do again is to listen. Only to listen. I'm sure you're at least intrigued by what's behind all this? "
What could cause them to torture a bunch of kids? What could be that important? One look around at the broken and scarred faces shows me that they'll never be the same. I'll never be the same. Hell, I don't even know what I was like before the Maze! Will those memories ever be recovered?
" No more games. " Thomas says. I can see the strain in his face, holding back screams. He wants to yell, just like I do.
" First sign of trouble, " I say, " We start fighting. If that means we die, then so be it. "
Newt speaks up, " What's next on the bloody agenda? "
" Just thought you might like to eat something, maybe take a shower. Sleep. It's a very long flight. " He stands and starts to walk around, " Follow me. "
I stand on weak legs, much like those around me. We all want to shower and sleep, but my first thought is, Is Louisa getting the same treatment? I don't want her to be hurt anymore. I don't want to be hurt anymore. These Trials have broken us all down, and now it's time to rebuild.
If, like the man said, everything is over, then maybe I can finally start living.
But first, a shower.
….
I don't know how long I've been in here.
The last thing I remember is a man whispering threats to me, and then I was on a Berg and leaving the Scorch. I left Minho and Newt and the Familiars down there in hell.
What happened to them?
The walls are white and padded, the floor the same way. I have some sort of jacket on that prevents me from using my arms. My hair, now soft from being washed, was put into a bun and I was left to sit in the middle of the floor.
But how long have I been sitting here doing nothing?
I want to scream and cry and demand they let me out, but I know it will do nothing.
So I sit there, staring at the patterns in the wall, and counting the seconds that tick by.
….
" Nandini, " Blake whispers to me as I sit there, watching everyone sleep. I don't trust anyone here enough to let myself fall asleep, so I force myself to stay awake. " We shouldn't be in here. "
" I know. " I say. The urge to plunge one of my knives into the sleeping girl next to me comes over me like a wave, making me want to smile. Blood-nice, warm blood-spilling over my hands and staining her blonde hair as the light in her eyes goes out. No. I clench my fists so hard my nails break the skin. The sting sends the murderous visions away.
" Then why are we still here? " I look up at Blake, his green eyes found my brown ones. I don't think he knows I need the cure, that with each passing second the Flare is eating my mind.
" I'm going to the bathroom. " I say, standing from my seat on the long, narrow cushion that is on the left side of the Berg. He nods his head and leans it against the metal of the wall.
I make my way through the bodies of sleeping people and towards the other end of the Berg. I pass Newt and catch a small smile forming on my lips at his peaceful, sleeping face. During the day he looks so distressed, so hurt, that it makes me feel pain for him. At least sleeping he can get away from that. Unless, like me, nightmares plague his dreams.
I shake my head and head down the hall. The sound of my boots on the metal sounds too loud, and I grimace at the sound. There is no way you could sneak up on someone in this place. What if I plan to do some snooping? What if I plan to figure out what they are going to do with my brother?
The answer comes to me easily.
I walk into the bathroom, and I take my boots off. Poofs of dirt come up when I take them off, and I see mounds of sand in the shoes. The sour smell hits me and my nose crinkles. The boots are actually quite a few years old, and a couple sizes too small. Because of this, my toes are bent at odd angles and ache constantly.
I set the boots next to the pearly white sink, and turn to walk away, but I catch sight of myself in the mirror. My hair is unruly and greasy; my cheeks are hollowed out; my chocolate brown eyes, so much like my brother's, are sunken in and look empty. There are faded scratches on my tan skin that I don't remember getting. I look like I'm halfway to death.
My hand reaches out to the mirror, mainly out of shock. I didn't think it was this bad. I thought I was okay, that I could last a few more weeks, but I look like I might not survive until tomorrow. There are red bands around my wrists from where they were tied together, and my forearm aches in reminiscent pain from where I injured it.
I quickly turn away from the mirror as the back of my throat starts to burn. The state of myself is unbearable. When I was little, I never imagined that this would happen. That I would get the Flare and be abandoned by my family, left to be broken and scarred.
Whatever. There's nothing I can do about it now.
I open the sliding door to the bathroom, relieved when it doesn't squeak. The hallway is bright, with white lights on the ceiling that gleam on the metal floors. My steps are quiet as I walk out, heading towards where I saw that man go earlier. He just told us to sleep well on the way there and walked away, and since I can't sleep, I plan on finding out where he went.
I can hear the subjects sleeping, snoring, in the room to my left as I walk past it. I ignore them and continue in the hall, heading towards a door I saw David walk through. It has a passcode, as I figured, on the keypad next to it. A billion different possibilities run through my mind as I look at the glowing, numbered buttons, but none of them seem to fit. If I type something in wrong once, an alarm might go off, or I'll get caught and then killed for snooping.
What a way to go.
Death for something I don't even have to do.
I'm half-tempted to turn around, and make a move to do so, but voices carry through the door. I didn't think they would, given how secretive WICKED is, but two voices, one male one female, are talking. They have to be standing right next to the door, or I wouldn't be able to hear them.
Why are they so close to the door? Are they leaving? My heart speeds up and I take half a step back, until I begin to make out what they're saying.
" ….is the strongest Candidate. He's the only one we need. " I recognize the voice as the voice of the man that made the deal with me. The one that told me to destroy Louisa and promised Newt would get the cure.
" What of the rest? " The female asks. Her voice is hard and authoritive, like a leader. I hear footsteps as they begin to walk away from the door and I release a shaky breath. But I'm able to hear one more thing.
" ...could always just kill the others. " The man says and laughter carries through the air.
My stomach knots as I turn away from the door and quietly walk back to the room, stopping in the bathroom to get my boots. The first person my eyes land on is a sleeping Blake with his head lolled forward, his breathing steady. Then my gaze scans the rest of the room—the people that WICKED will kill and just keep the one person that is the strongest Candidate.
I end up looking at my brother.
They'll kill him, too. I know it. They'll probably kill me too.
So, I have just one chance. When I get that chance, I'm getting Newt, Blake, and me out of WICKED and somewhere safe. Maybe then, Newt and I can start acting like a family.
….
My legs are numb. I've been sitting in the middle of this floor for minutes or hours or days—I don't know how long I've spent staring at the same spot in the wall. For some reason my mind feels funny and fuzzy, like everything I've ever seen has a film over it.
Minho. Newt. Frypan. Clint. Thomas. Where are they? Are they safe? Did they get out of the Scorch? I want so badly to get out of here and plead WICKED to let me see them, to see if they got the cure, but it would be pointless.
I hear the door to my room open.
My body tenses but I don't move from my spot in the middle of the floor as they approach me, instead electing to keep my eyes pinned on the white, padded wall. Their footsteps are muted on the floor, which is also padded and white, so I'm unable to tell how close they are. I just know I won't let them see me weak or suffering. Everything I've done so far has been for my family, for the Familiars. I won't let that go to waste.
Hell, if I could use my arms I would be choking the person that is approaching me for being a part of such an atrocious organization. My fingers shift inside of the sleeves, rubbing against each other. There's sweat on them, so even if I did manage to get my hands around their neck, my grip wouldn't be very strong.
I could always make a run for it. I didn't hear the door close. But they took my prosthetic away.
Legs in a white pair of slacks comes into my vision. They're wearing a pair of black dress shoes and I want to laugh. Who wears something so formal to a place like this?
" Hello, Louisa. It's been a while. "
Oh, yea. Janson does.
I don't say anything as he crouches in front of me. His face is ugly as ever and crooked, but I'm pretty sure I see a less hair on his head. Are the Trials stressing him out? If they are, maybe he should just stop them.
" How are you? I do hope you're well. "
I grit my teeth. He knows very well how I am. I'm not well. I'm missing half a leg and I feel like I could just curl into a ball and never see the light again. The only thing keeping me from doing that is my family.
" Not going to speak? " Janson says, his voice as nasally as it was a couple weeks ago when I last saw him. " What a shame. Your mother might have to teach you some manners. "
He will not tempt me into talking to him like that. I will not snap and then go off on him for speaking about my mother with his foul mouth. He is filth and she is elegance and beauty.
I remember the memory.
Well, she is still elegance and beauty. I don't think that woman was my mother, anyway. It didn't seem like her. My mother is nice, and she is caring. Not harsh and cruel.
Janson sighs as he gives up on trying to speak to me. He stands, looking at something behind me as he does it. " Would you like to say anything before we complete the final task of the Trials? I must admit though, I'm going to miss torturing her. "
Janson backs away and someone else entires my line of vision. This person is wearing a pair of black heels, and her legs are a pale color. She addresses me with a firm voice.
" Look up. "
My blood freezes and my throat closes up. I do as she says, and I find myself staring into steely grey eyes. The eyes of my mother. I expect her to look down at me with love, with relief that her child is alive, but all I can find is hate. Is it directed towards me? Or the things they put me through?
" These past two years since you came under my care have been hell. I had to take you on because you apparently were the Flame. I have to admit, you have accelerated the Trials dramatically, but now it's time for you to get what you lost back. "
" What? Mom, what are you— " I start, shocked.
" Don't call me that. " She hisses, " Just sit still and be a good little girl while Janson does his job. "
Tears sting the back of my eyes. Was that memory true? What is going on? My mom is supposed to be happy I'm alive, not speaking to me so harshly. I thought she was dead. Is this just like Reed all over again?
What is going on?
She starts to walk away, to leave the room, but she can't! She can't leave me here! She is my mother, and she should not abandon me. She can't. She's my family. She has to know dad is alive, and that he feels bad for leaving us. I have to tell her. But I can't tell her if she's going to leave me. Why? Why?
I open my mouth to speak, to beg her to stay and explain what the hell is going on, when four words I'll never forget leave her mouth.
" Good riddance, little Flame. "
And then the door shuts behind her and she's gone.
" Are you going to cry Louisa? " Janson asks, amusement evident in his voice. My breathing is coming in harsh rapid huffs; my heart was beating so hard against my chest I thought it was going to burst; my mind was going to fast I couldn't comprehend anything. " Are you confused? "
I don't answer him. Janson needs to go away. I need my mother. I thought she was dead; I thought I had failed, and yet she walked right in here and she, she, she….
She basically said she didn't want me.
What did I do? What did I do?
" I can solve your confusion. If you would just drink this… " Janson says, pulling a vile full of a blue liquid out. I barely even glance at it. Confusion. Is that what I'm feeling? I know it is one of the many emotions coursing through my veins, but it isn't the only one. I can't separate anything, everything is blending together.
" What is it? " I ask, the words nearly choking me. A tear falls onto my cheek but I don't wipe it away.
" Something to take away the pain. " He places the warm vile into my hands. The deep blue of the stuff inside it contrasts against the pink, sunburned skin of my hand. Pain. Yes, that is what I'm feeling. If my mother doesn't want me, then who will? She lied to me, all of those times. Noah, Newt, Minho. How many other people have lied to me? How many other people say they love me when they actually can't stand the sight of me?
Why do I have to hurt all of the time?
I pull the cap off of the vile, and down the liquid inside. It's cold but still burns my throat, causing my eyes to water even more. My vision wavers, switching between black and the white of the room. I think I hear Janson laughing, but I'm not sure. I can't hear anything.
And a few short seconds later, blissfully, I can't feel anything either.
The pain, the hurt, the sadness and grief—all of it is gone.
I had a mini panic attack at the beginning of writing this because I realized how little of the book was left and that I wouldn't have enough stuff to work with to complete a chapter. And then I remembered that I had to set something up with Nandini... So it worked out.
Oh my god guys it was the last chapter. The last one. I don't know if I can handle what I am feeling right now. It's just AHHHHHH
Sooo Louisa has lost her mind. Minho is hopeful. Nandini is well... Nandini.
{ review responses }
mazerunner26 ~ appropriate reaction
doggirl212 ~ WELCOME HEY HI HELLO LEWT MINHLO YES ALL THE SHIPS I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS CHAPTER
Chipmunk1123 ~ They do need her. And I wanted to give Minho a hug too. Shin splints are hell. Mine are coming from a growth spurt I'm going through, so they're here to stay for a little while.
{ end of review responses }
Dang guys. Last chapter.
I need to get my things prepared for the next one and I need to catch up on my other fanfiction. I got so excited about this one I haven't been able to write anything else. So can I have about 2 weeks to get everything sorted out? Who knows? I might just get it up sooner than that. But when I do, I'll post an author's note here.
Well, I have to go do the dishes so for the last time on this story, have a good day, evening, morning, afternoon, night!
PS sorry if you're confused about anything that has happened. This is something I've known was going to happen since the beginning of the series.