Disclaimer: We all wish we were as creative as James Dashner...

The unanticipated alarm had awoken everyone, and unfortunately, it was impossible to hit he snooze button.

Her first thought was how bad she felt that the screams had woken the sleepy boys up. She swore she could pick up a deep purple under Newt's eyes.

Whispers broke out among the group, as well as rustles and shuffling as everyone lifted their heads from the blankets like turtles inside their shell.

"What's going on?: Newt asked, fisting his eyes as he let the blanket fall to their waists, while their stomachs remained glued to the sand.

With squinty eyes, he scooted forward, trying to analyze the dry wasteland for signs of other life besides them.

Another scream sounded, making everyone flinch, and by then, everyone had awoken. Some stood, some stayed put on the floor, while others conversed.

Another scream, causing only a few to recoil this time.

"What do you thinks wrong with her?" Tatum murmured to Newt.

She watched him as his eyes scrunched tighter, scanning the darkness. "Dunno," He retorted.

Tatum propped herself on her elbows, straightening her back to look over Newt's head. Thomas looked deep in thought, his face scrunched up while his eyes darted all over the place. Aris was looking at Thomas and Minho, as if they were the all-knowing leaders. Minho's head was darting all over the place, looking from the gladers, to the wailing women, and then to her. Fry and Winston looked half asleep, but their eyes widened every time another cry broke out.

She could hear the rushed voices over the screams and wind, picking up pieces here and there.

"What' going on?"

"Who is that?"

"Why is she screaming?"

"Sounds like Teresa,"

Thomas tried to search the crowd for the face of the last statement.

"What do we do?" Tatum yelled at Minho, cupping her hand around her mouth to enunciate.

"Uhh…" He scratched his head, "I…" He sighed, and that was the first time she had seen Minho at a loss for words; whether that was from lack of sleep or the mystery of the wailing women, she didn't know. "Let's just try to go back to sleep."

"Really?" She asked, brows raised.

"Well what else are we supposed to do?" He asked, "You got any better ideas? Because that town still looks at least a day's away, so we couldn't save her if we tried."

She bit her lip. He had a point.

Once he was satisfied with his idea, he nodded to himself. "Yeah, let's just try to sleep through it, get a few hours of sleep. We're all exhausted."

No one disagreed, nor agreed. Everyone just obliged and ducked their heads back into their make-shift tents under the blanket.

She looked to Newt as she rolled onto her back, who looked wide awake now. He sighed through his nostrils, his eyes forcibly shutting, just as hers did, in hopes of just a few hours of doze.

Minutes passed, and at least two screams were produced during that time.

She could hear the other glader's dry thumping footsteps as they stood up, stretching their limbs, while the others rolled around in the sand, attempting to sleep.

Unlike before, she could only hear one light snore.

Another ten minutes passed, and as expected, the screaming didn't impede.

The wailing women continued to fright Tatum and the gladers for the next half hour. No one slept, except for the one light snorer, and no one talked. It was obvious that everyone was forcibly trying to slip into unconsciousness, but the screaming was just too loud, despite the exhausted gladers.

"Alright shanks," She heard Minho's voice howl, signaling for everyone's attention. Newt rolled over in a blur and flipped the blanket's over their heads so they could see him. "I say we take advantage of this. I know we all wanna sleep, but it's clear none of us can. Except for Mund. That shank can sleep through anything." He rolled his eyes. "It's probably a better idea we pick up the pace while it's cooler anyways. I say we run until we can't run no more, and by then we'll collapse from exhaustion and hopefully catch a few Z's then. Sound good?"

At first, the idea of moving her limbs again made her want to strongly deviate, but then she heard the ear-piercing shriek again and she practically sprung into action.

It took everyone a few minutes to gather their things again and rub the sleep from their eyes, but two screams later, they were running faster than they ever had so far. Thomas, Aris, and Minho were in the front, while Newt and she were in the middle; the others trailing closely behind them. She felt awful, like she was keeping Newt behind, because she was never a good runner to begin with, but then she remembered the limp that Newt had, and she didn't feel so bad anymore. Maybe she was an excuse for him to match the dawdling pace.

The moon hung high in the sky, bright and luminescent, whole in the sky. Scattered along the sky like a pale girls' dusted freckles, were stars, the only other light illuminating the inhospitable surroundings.

"Ugh, I wish she'd shut up," She murmured to Newt after another scream.

"Agreed," He replied.

"Kinda seems like we're getting closer," She observed, nodding to the buildings that seemed slightly taller and wider now."

His lips pursed and his brows rose in the air, "Yeah, actually. It does look like we're getting closer."

"Let's pick up the pace guys!" Minho hollered.

They all started a slow jog, enough to salvage their dwindling energy.

"So tell me more about the maze," Tatum sparked.

Newt chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as they matched a steady pace witht heir feet, "You talk a lot, don't ya?"

She shrugged.

"Well," He sighed, "Not much to it then what we told you, I guess."

"Give me details!" She begged, "It's all so fascinating," When she saw the look Newt shot her, she corrected herself, "Terribly fascinating…"

He breathed another laugh, "It's not that exciting. We all lived there, a lot of us died there. We had built a council hall, a homestead, a dining hall, a tree house, a farm, beds, washrooms, we had set meal times and work schedules."

"Sounds like a giant camping trip," She thought, "Only more messed up…"

"You're tellin' me. Minho was a runner, clearly. Thomas was too, new one at that. The runners mapped the maze, although by the last few months we had mapped the whole maze, that's when we fell hopeless."

"Then Thomas arrived?"

"Then Thomas arrived," He nodded. "And Teresa,"

"Do you think the screaming girl is Teresa?"

He rubbed his neck, breathing heavily as he jogged along the sand, "Dunno. Part of me hopes it is, and part of me hopes it isn't."

"Hmm," She responded.

"After that we found that things were changing. People were dying. There was a pattern in the maze which we solved, but that was after the grievers attacked, taking one a night." His eyes sank to the floor, "It was like some kind of game for the Creators. One body, every night, until we escaped. There were at least fifty of us before that."

She observed the gladers. There were fifteen. Fifteen gladers left, that was it.

"We escaped and the saviors basically shoved us in the buggin' helicopters." He looked back to Tatum, and she noticed the poignancy in his eyes. "I remember looking down at that maze in the helicopter. I remember thinking 'Wow. This was where I spent the last three years of my life.' It always seemed so bloody huge, and staring down at it from that helicopter made it seem so shuckin' tiny." He licked his lips, pausing as his eyes moved away from mind. "And one of the men who saved us, Joseph I think his name was, he looked at it so nonchalantly like it was nothing but a bug on the ground, while we, even Thomas, were trying so hard to contain our emotions; to not seem like a buggin' loser and weep."

"That must have been hard." She frowned, watching Newt. It was hard to pick up his features in the low light of the moon.

He nodded, and after that, they were silent for a while, until another thought popped into her mind.

"Can I ask what happened to Winston's face?" She puffed, her arms swinging as she tried to keep up with his limping form.

Newt looked back to Winston, who was covered with a sheet even though it was unnecessary during the night. "Ah… well, it's hard to explain." His eyes locked to Tatum's, "When we were in the tunnel coming up here, there were these blobs."

"Blobs?" Her face scrunched up, expressing her misunderstanding.

"Yeah. The whole tunnel was pitch black, even when our eyes adjusted to the light. At the end of the tunnel we got a good look. These silver blobs melted from the ceiling like water droplets and attached themselves to you. Tommy boy over there said it felt hot, like molten lava. He managed to get one off of Winston."

Her face dropped, and her eyes remained glued to her socks as she ran. It was all like a giant horror movie, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear more. How had that many survived this far? They were just teenagers.

"You know, I find it odd that you're so reluctant to believe us," He scratched his chin.

I shot him an incredulous look, "I get dropped in a deserted wasteland with no water, no food, and a giant aircraft above me with no freakin' shoes. I'll believe anything."

"Good that. Makes sense." He chuckled.

"Plus the cranks we ran into kind of backed you guys up." She added.

He shrugged, "I suppose you're right."

Tatum gnawed on her bottom lip, "If they're testing your responses and studying you guys, do you think they're studying me too?"

By some unspoken command, they all slowed to a fast walk. and she felt relieved to not have to jog anymore.

"If I'm being honest…" He started, massaging his hands together, "Most likely, yeah."

She nodded, not knowing how to take that news. Once again, she changed the subject at the first sign of uncomfortable-ness. "You guys haven't met group B?"

"Only Aris," He told her. "Seems there are parallels between the two mazes, like there's a girl version of me there, as well as the others."

"I wonder if there's a boy version of me there." She conjectured.

"I guess we'll find out soon enough."

"Guess so," She responded, thinking back to Thomas' tattoo.

"Potty break!" Minho announced. "Burry your klunk and don't do it too close. Rest for fifteen, then we're off again."

They all scattered like mice, and she sat down in the sand, wrapping the sheet around herself while she waited for others. Thomas sat beside her, smiling as he plopped onto the dune.

It was then that she realized the girl had stopped screaming, but she was;t complaining, she only worried for the girl, hoped she wasn't in danger.

Her eyes scanned the darkness every so often, checking for any signs of life other than her group. She expected to see nothing, but surprisingly, a darker form stood out along the flat land, a shadow. It was a woman. Her features were too dark to see, as well as too far away.

That's when she noticed the small shack beside her, which she must have came from. It was way closer than the other buildings, and she felt stupid for not having seen it earlier, but she pushed that thought aside and focused on the girl.

"What the hell…" Her eyes scrunched together as she tried to focus on the girl, whose curtain of hair flew in the wind so beautifully it seemed like a hallucination.

"What?" Thomas bumped her shoulder with his.

"A girl…" She hummed to Thomas.

Thomas instantaneously jolted to a stand. His eyes grew wide and grew frantic. There was a vacant look on his face, one that appeared other-worldly

"I forgot to mention something." She stiffened when someone appeared beside her, but relaxed when she saw Newt. "Thomas Teresa and Aris are… well were telepathic."

"What?!" She spat. Now that seemed crazy. She didn't want to believe it, but they way everyone acted so nonchalant about Thomas' face proved her to believe it. He was talking to her, or trying to at least. "Holy klunk."

"Hey!" He clapped, "Nice glader lingo."

She ignored him, her eyes only focused on Thomas. "Is it Teresa?" She asked him.

"No clue," He replied emptily, "No response."

"Think she's in danger?" She asked, assuming that it was Teresa, "Or someone else is?" She elucidated politely, referring that Teresa, or whoever the girl was, could be committing the danger.

"Dunno," He said.

There was a long-suffering silence filled with only the heavy breathing of the group, as well s their dry, thumping footsteps. The girl stood there, watching them it seemed. She said nothing, did nothing, remaining still as her silky hair cascaded around her face.

"Alright," Minho clapped once, startling everyone back into attention, "Who wants to meet the nice young lady?"

"I'll do it." Thomas volounteered before Minho had even finished.

"Woah," Tatum held her hands out, "No. I don't think it's a good idea to just let one person go alone. We should go as a group."

Minho rolled his eyes, and at that precise moment Tatum was getting really fed up with the sarcasm Minho was aexpressing, although he did lighten up the group now and again. "I was kidding, Slintheads. She could have an army of psycho girl ninja's or somethin'"

"Psycho girl ninjas?" Tatum folded her arms across her chest while raising her eyebrows as if to say 'really?'.

Minho nodded, "Yeah…" He over exuberantly nodded. "Now let's go."

"NO!" Thomas vocalized a little to loudly. "No," he repeated quieter. "You guys stay here— I'll go talk to her. Could be a trap. We'd all be idiots to all go over there and fall right into it."

Thomas had a point, but Tatum thought he was just putting up a fight for the sake of possibly getting alone time with Teresa. She could see the little glint he got in his eyes every time they talked about her. She could see how much he really cared for her, and she only envied the Teresa girl for having people that care about her so much.

So Thomas went alone. They all watched him jog lightly away from him, the sand flying up in small fumes with every step he took like smoke dissipating in the wind.

Newt had volunteered to join him, but Thomas seemed persistent on going alone, and thye all respected that. As soon as he left few made comments about how stupid it could be for him to go completely alone.

"Think he'll be alright?" She turned to Minho as soon as Thomas had reached the girl.

"Let's hope so. I actually kinda like the shank."

She snorted, still watching the two.

In a jerking motion, the girl darted to the left, heading straight for the shack she had exited. Predictably, Thomas followed her.

"Let's give them five minutes. If he hasn't come back in by then, I say we all march over there and beat the klunk out of whoever was screaming."

Tatum winced. Even knowing that it was a joke, the image of beating the living 'klunk' out of someone made her queasy.

"So are they like in love or something?" Tatum vocalized to no one in particular.

Newt was the one to answer, of course. "Couldn't tell ya." He clucked his tongue, "He doesn't talk about her much. Didn't really talk to her, either. They only talked in their heads. I guess they have some kind of unspoken connection because they can talk in their heads. Plus they both are in the same sort of standing since they both designed the maze."

"What?" Tatum asked, even though hearing him.

Newt nodded. "When Grievers sting ya, you go through the Changing. Sometimes you receive old memories n' stuff. Tommy saw that him and Teresa were the ones that created the maze, and the code for it. Guess they both kind of feel responsible, but no one blames them."

"Wow." She hadn't expected that news. Then again, she hadn't expected any news she heard that day.

"Doesn't matter though— any of it. Their memories were wiped clean, just like the rest of us. We know whose side they're on."

Tatum couldn't help but think about her past life before being dumped in the Scorch. Maybe she was a worker for WICKED. Maybe she was evil as well, but didn't know it. Or maybe she was just some random stranger involved in the trial to help the candidates to succeed. Either way, Newt was right; didn't matter. Tatum knew which side she was on herself.

"Another minute," Minho said. "Then we're going over there."

Tatum bit her lip.

The sixty seconds went by excruciatingly slow, and she could only hope for Thomas' safety. She had only know the group for less than a whole day, but being stuck with them for twenty hours, pushing personal bubbles, and sharing vital information tended to push people together.

She found herself nibbling on the tiny nubs of her nails, and Newt snorted at her. She stuck her tongue out at him, and then turned back to the shack.

Thirty.

Twenty.

Ten.

Five, they were getting ready to move.

Four, their footsteps shuffled in the arid sand.

Three, they started to walk.

Two, Tatum looked to Newt.

One, they saw Thomas.

Tatum exhaled a long sigh of relief. He was stumbling in the dark, and to be honest, he looked drunk. At first glance, Tatum thought he might be wounded; but when he got closer she analyzed that he was perfectly fine, besides the tears he was trying to blink back.

He was still a few yards from them, staggering back and forth. When he collapsed to the floor, sobs escaping from his chest, she immediately booked it for him, sprinting as her feet caught in the heavy sand.

"Thomas!" She screamed, now doubting her initial analyzation. "Are you alright?" She puffed when she got closer, falling to the sand beside him. "Thomas?"

"What kind of shuck idiot are you Thomas!" Tatum heard from behind her, knowing it was Minho.

"What happened?" She asked quieter, putting a hand on Thomas shoulder. HE was on all fours, breathing heavily, while sobs wracked his chest every now and again. She could tell he was trying to be manly about it and hide it for sake of masculinity, but she didn't care.

"It was her." HE shakily exhaled.

"What did she say?" She asked before the rest of the group reached them. "Is she alright?"

"It was… It was Teresa." He managed to say just as the others caught up, slowing to a stop behind them.

Thomas looked up at them with tear-swelled eyes. Tatum dropped her hand as he moved to sit on his legs.

"And you left her there?" Minho growled.

"I had no choice…" He sniffled, finally calming himself now. "It was like she was possessed. Like Gally."

Tatum peered up at Newt, who had his arms folded across his chest and looked back down at her.

"It was some kind of trap… I don't know. But she saved us. S-She tried to strangle me. But then she was screaming— she was hysterical. Then she cried. It was some sort of internal fight for possession of her own body. They were controlling her."

They were all silent, reveling in the realism of it all.

"I bet they'll punish her…" He wanly spoke again. "I bet they'll make her pay for it."

"Dude, if those shuck WICKED people want her dead, she'd be rottin' under a big piel of rocks. She's just as tough as anybody else, maybe tougher. She'll survive." Minho reassured. That was Minho's form of a compliment, and surprisingly, it seemed to flip Thomas' optimistic switch. He exhaled loudly, nodding as he tried to catch his breath again.

"If she's strong enough to overpower a possession of her own body, she's strong enough to survive and fight." Tatum told Thomas, putting her hand on his shoulder again.

Thomas looked up at her, and through teary eyes, he managed to give her a weak smile.

"Dawn's approaching." Minho broadcasted, pointing to the purple tint in the sky. "Now's a good time as ever to take a nap. Make sure you keep the sheets over your head, don't want to look like you aged fifty years."

No one disagreed; in fact, most of them plopped down right there, pulling the blankets over their heads.

It was in no way a problem for Tatum. She looked to her partner, who waved her over, and they curled up in the blanket, just like they did before, and let their consciousness come to a close, welcoming the serenity of slumber.

A/N: THanks to Guest, ImAnInsaneBird27, berryblood, and NEwtnTMR for the reviews!

Thoughts so far? anything you wanna see? Also: Anyone wanna make a cover story for the story? If so, feel free to PM me! I suck at making them...