With five minutes left until six o'clock, part of the group paced around the room, while the others observed.
William sat at the table with Rowan, Henry, and Leen. None of them had the energy, nor the desire, to try to stop the others. They had opted to sit down and stay quiet. Everything was ready beside them: the weapons, the backpacks, even poor handmade bottles of water.
"Do they freak out often?" William asked those around him.
"Sometimes," replied Rowan.
"More Bea and George than Mae and Flor," Henry added.
"Moving around like this . . . it's never happened before. What could have changed WICKED's mind?" Leen wondered out loud.
"Maybe they got bored with their little puppet show." Rowan scoffed sarcastically, clenching her hands together on the table.
"Yeah, maybe."
William got up from the table to go to the bathroom. He found the light switch in the darkness, turned it on, and gave himself the greatest scare of his life. Or, well, as far as he knew, which wasn't much.
Seeing a pair of blue eyes staring directly at him after his dream wasn't at all comforting. But, of course, that was how reflections worked. Although, the near heart attack he almost had while thinking the shadow was right in front of his eyes would surely not make his anxiousness leave him alone any time soon.
He stepped closer to the sink and buried his head under the running water. His short, brown hair fell in front of his eyes, letting him see for himself that the reflection wasn't showing him any tricks. He stopped the flow of water, pulled his hair back, and whipped his face and neck with his sleeve.
"Birdie, it's time!"
Without a second of doubt, William left the bathroom, hauled his backpack over his shoulder, checked that his knife and mask were still in place, and joined the others in front of the door.
"So, what are we supposed to be looking at?" George asked, peeking over Mae's head to the wall the note had said.
"Not sure—" Mae cut herself short as the wall began glowing. "OK, so I'm guessing that's the Flat Trans."
Before anyone could volunteer or step first, Mae raised her hand in the air. She got closer to the wall, reaching out her hand to it slowly until it disappeared.
"Alright," Mae breathed out, turning her head to look at the rest. "Be quick and try not to fall on top of each other."
With those words, she disappeared from everyone's sight. Flor walked through immediately after, closely followed by Rowan. Bea gave one last hug to Leen, who didn't take long to go after her, leaving only the three boys behind.
"Well," William glanced from Henry to George, who couldn't look more scared of walking through the glittering wall. "I guess I should go first. See you on the other side."
The wall engulfed him, seemingly getting brighter as he got closer. He lost his footing after walking through, having to put his hands up front to keep his face from colliding against the tiled floor.
"You fell too, huh?" Bea helped him out as he tried to get up.
"Well, at least now I don't feel like an idiot," he mumbled, accepting the help gladly.
Mae glanced from the glittering wall to William, a barely audible sigh escaping her lips. "I should have made them go first."
"You don't think they'll stay behind, right?" Flor said, her tone not hiding her fear at all.
William turned to look at their surroundings, which were almost the same as the building he had woken up in the day before. Two grunts, followed by obvious hits against the floor, made him turn around. Somehow, the sight of George and Henry, both struggling to get up while cursing, was strangely calming.
"You two alright?" Flor asked, watching as Mae and Rowan helped them up.
"Yeah, yeah," Henry mumbled, while George simply gave her a thumbs up.
Leen cleared her throat, prompting everyone to turn to look at her, or rather, who was behind her. A man stood between a group of guards with shields and guns, which they didn't doubt to point at their chest.
Desperately, William turned to look at Mae for a plan. Wait to see what they wanted. Apparently, that was the plan.
William agreed they couldn't do much, but he had to admit that he disliked the idea of being metres away from danger when he couldn't even do anything to face it or stand a fight. What was a knife against a gun? A reason for his opponent to laugh at him, that's what it was.
"Who are you? Why were we called here? What do you want from us?" Mae demanded, her voice as cold as ice.
"You can call me Mr Janson, and I'm WICKED's Assistant Director," the man introduced himself while raising his hands in the air. "We called you here for a simple reason. Survival."
Surely, problems sprung up. Their first one was the guards approaching them. The second, not having anywhere to run, became literal. Some sort of invisible wall glimmered around them. Rowan was the first to recognise it. It was the wall that had suspended her in the air months ago.
The guards got divided into two groups; those who tried to get to Mae and Rowan, and those approaching William and George. The leader gestured and made different motions at William and George, who understood it immediately, as it was one of the many plans prepared, and waited for the guard to get near enough to take their guns.
When the two stepped near, George tackled them to the ground. William took advantage of the brief moment of confusion to grab their guns and tasers. He gave the gun to George and tossed the tasers to Flor and Bea. On the other side, Mae and Rowan had achieved to get the guards on their knees, snatch their guns, and pass the tasers to Henry and Leen.
"Couldn't have expected less from Group S." Janson's voice interrupted their thoughts and ragged breaths.
"Now, I didn't ask why. I asked what you want from us. What does WICKED want from us? What do you mean by being 'property', huh?" Mae raised her gun slightly, letting her team know she was no longer aiming for the man's chest, she was aiming for his head. "Answer me, or I'll shoot you dead! No riddles!"
William noticed Bea and Flor slowly walking behind him, as if not wanting to be noticed by anyone. However, it was hard to miss when Henry and Leen were doing the exact same thing with Mae and Rowan. He soon understood, since they tased and knocked out the guards left behind. Of course, the last thing they needed was a sneak attack that diverted their entire attention from their biggest threat.
"We want you to collaborate with us. Cranks, I suppose you already know where they come from," Janson said. "Humans. Average people just like you or me get infected every day. The Flare is what we call this virus."
"What does that have to do with us?" Rowan spat, her grip on the gun hardly shaking as her finger got more comfortable over the trigger.
"It has everything to do with you. As by now you must have realised, you're not Immune to the Flare. None of you is." Janson took a second to see how the news affected the group. But, after receiving no reaction at all, he continued. "That doesn't mean you're doomed to perish. You're important to us, Group S."
"Stop blabbering nonsense and get to the darn point!" Mae shouted.
"Fortunately, there are Immunes. Kids, just like you, are going through a series of trials that will help us find a cure." Janson took a step forward, which was badly seen by the team, who tightened their grip on the gun and positioned themselves better to shoot at the slightest movement. "Don't you understand? It could save you. All humanity could be saved."
"Still has nothing to do with us," George said.
"We're not the Immunes, remember? You said it yourself," William added.
"There are other ways to help as Non-Immunes," Janson answered calmly. "Particularly, there's one matter in which we require your help with the utmost promptness."
"And what would that matter be?" Mae asked in a mocking tone.
"Helping those Immunes from being taken away by a self-entitled army. Due to their constant and rather troubling operations, the research for the cure has been greatly affected." Janson began lowering his hands as if he knew he had enough of everyone's attention for them to wait before shooting. "We require a group of young Non-Immunes to lower their guard, find their headquarters, and inform us."
"How are we so sure we'll go along with what you say?" Rowan questioned, barely containing her rage.
Janson clasped his hands together, the hint of a smug grin present at the corner of his mouth. "I know you, soldiers. You won't remember, of course. But I know that, by now, knowing what the Flare does, none of you would have any reason to go against my offer. Not to mention the slight issue with your supplies. In case of refusal, I've been given strict orders to cut them off. I wonder what would kill you first. Starvation or the Flare?"
"You sick fuck," Bea spat under her breath.
"We wouldn't let that happen, of course. There would've been no point in training you for so many years if we gave up today because you refused a deal that would, in its due time, save your lives and countless others. That's why —" Janson smiled, standing straighter and raising his chin as if he wanted to demonstrate his superiority. "Soldier S4, drop the gun."
George suddenly let go of his gun and froze in place, staring at the ground with wide eyes. He attempted to get it back, but Janson's voice stopped him once again. "Soldier S4, stay still."
Like a robot, George then perked up, standing like a soldier, unmoving. Bea was the first to react to such a shocking sight, turning to Janson to question him.
"What did you do? You better not have hurt him!"
Leen ran to George, grabbing the gun that had fallen to the ground and pointing it at Janson's head. "Open your darn mouth, and I shoot!"
"Soldier S23, drop the gun." Again, Leen let go of the gun immediately. "Soldier S23, stay still."
"Alright! We get it, you can control us! Stop!" Bea asked, running to Leen, not to get the gun, but to make sure she was fine. The added surprise was their lack of movement. Neither she nor George could move at all. Not even their lips.
Mae glanced at George and Leen, then gave a doubtful look at Rowan and William. She wasn't sure what to do. None of them was. On the one hand, there was the fact that Janson had shown to be able to control them. On the other hand, there was the ambiguous task he was trying to give to them. As if defeated, she lowered her gun, being quickly followed by Rowan, but not William.
"Why us? Why does it have to be us? Won't that army realise we're not Immune and suspect us? Why would you need us to get the information about their whereabouts?" He questioned, focusing on keeping his grip on his gun.
"You're our best-trained soldiers. As to why they wouldn't suspect you, that's simple, they'll assume you're desperate and use you as soon as they realise your potential. I wouldn't dream of being treated as equals, though. Their policy about not letting Non-Immunes near their precious stolen Immunes is strict." Janson clasped his hands together. "We need the information to recover those Immunes they've kidnapped. As I hope you comprehend, most are children and have families within the groups. Anything else?"
Mae gave a quick, reprimanding look at William, which he outright ignored. "What do we get out of this? I don't care about the cure. Deal with that yourselves. I mean something more personal. Will we receive our memories back? Sent back to our families and home?"
"Sadly, there's not much standing in the places where you came from. So I must say I can't do that. But the other requests were already thought of being proceeded once the Trials ended. The moment the cure's research is completed and proven successful, not only you, but all of those who have participated in the Trials will be given their memories back, and will be free to leave when and where they wish."
William then glanced at Mae, nodding slightly to show his contentment with the information he had received. She sighed, grateful that he hadn't taken it any further than that, and directed her attention back to Janson.
"We accept, but unfreeze our friends. And you have to give us clear instructions about what we're looking for, or we'll never find this army."
"Of course," Janson nodded, satisfied with the turn of events.
When he blinked, George and Leen were back to being themselves. They stretched to make sure their bodies hadn't received any negative effect from being frozen, which apparently didn't. Bea pulled Leen behind her, using her body as a means to protect her.
No one spoke as they looked back at Janson, who kept his smug grin present on his face. Somewhere at the back of their minds, a voice told them they would regret their decision. It hadn't been the smartest thing to agree to such a deal, and they knew that, but what other option did they have?
Janson pulled a small device out of his pocket, pressing the screen, seemingly at random, and slid it back into its place. He then folded his arms and ordered them to step outside the building with him. As if waiting for something to happen, or appear, he leaned on the outside wall, his grin not disappearing at any point.
Loud engines made their presence in the cloudy sky. A much larger and wider version of a plane began descending until landing a few metres behind Janson. The door to the inside opened, revealing a man dressed in military clothing. He marched down the ramp while muttering something to himself. As if he was oblivious to their existence, he turned and halted facing Janson.
"Show them the way to the Berg," Janson ordered, though it didn't really sound menacing.
The man then turned to face the group, making eye contact with each of them before saying with a strangely calm tone, "Soldiers, go inside."
Everyone reacted at once, unwillingly walking towards the odd plane, apparently called Berg. All except William, who walked behind the rest. Only he was in partial control over his own body.
It was strange. At first, he had been swept off by the order, but, as he began struggling, it progressively lost effect. Not completely, but enough to let him deny. Although, not wanting to raise suspicion, he kept acting until reaching the inside of the Berg.
They plumped down on the ground, close to one another. All the while, they saw the man and Janson making their way inside with triumphal expressions. Nobody spoke while they watched the mouth of the Berg close and felt the ground beneath them shake. Wherever they were going, to whatever they would have to do, they were on their way.
"Where are we going?" Mae demanded, though it no longer seemed to have any effect on Janson, as he laid back on a chair he had brought from another compartment.
"To a place that we call the Sanctuary," he answered simply. When Mae was about to ask another question, he raised his hand and added, "I won't answer any more questions. Better relax and sleep."
Leen was the first to comply as she snuggled closer to Bea, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The rest followed suit, closing the spaces between them to sit back and calm down. At first, nobody could fall asleep. But, as time passed, all had their eyes closed and tried their best to give in.
William didn't take long to succumb to his exhaustion. From the moment he had closed his eyes, he could barely feel anything. Even George's head on his shoulder felt light compared to the heaviness he felt, glueing him to the ground.
Clear blue eyes stared directly at him. Somehow, they seemed clearer than the first time he had seen them. They were closer, too. The shadow was there, but it seemed humanoid. As if the light was the only thing keeping him from truly seeing the person's face; from receiving another piece of a puzzle he would never be able to put together.
"—am. I'm sorry. I tr—. I cou—n't —vin— them."
The shadow reached out with their hand, almost as if asking him to take it. Without thinking, he held out his hand as well. Although it was too late. The humanoid shadow was dissipating, their words and movements blurring to the point it was impossible to tell what was happening.
"No, wait! Who are you? Why are you sorry? What happened? Who's them?"
There was no reply to his question. The shadow was gone, ironically yanked back to the darkness where he lost sight of it. However, he hadn't woken up from that strange dream, so something else was bound to happen.
"Wi—am." This time the voice was a girl's. He turned around many times, but there was no person, shadow, nothing at all that could portray a girl's voice so perfectly. "Wi—am, I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologising? What's going on?" He demanded this time, getting increasingly more desperate for answers.
"Everything is going to change."