William plumped down on his bed, burying his face in his pillow, while he heard Mae and Henry mutter their complaints about their countless failed attempts at finding the smallest clue of the Right Arm's whereabouts.
"You'll suffocate," Flor told him with her characteristic, caring tone. "Take your mask off at least."
"Months using them and I still can't get used to it." Bea sat down on the bed across from William's, taking her own mask off with a huff. "All day with these darn things. The sun will burn our entire body except for our mouths."
Leen sat beside her, wrapping an arm around Bea's waist. "Well, at least like that, you could get a tan."
"Ha. Ha. Very funny, Leen," Bea answered, unamused.
Without a word, George pushed William's legs off the bed to sit down. William didn't react to it. He simply sat up and rested his head on George's shoulder as they took their masks off. There was no denying that they were uncomfortable, but it was better to be uncomfortable for some hours than being infected for the rest of their lives.
"Tomorrow's the big day," Rowan reminded them. "Everyone mentally ready for the new Birdies?"
"No," whined Henry. "I don't want Birdies. I want it to be just the eight of us."
"Twenty Birdies at that." Mae rubbed her forehead tiredly, taking a seat next to Leen. "Darn it, I need a break."
"A six-month break at least." Flor laughed softly, seeing as the rest sniggered at her comment.
"That would be nice," said William, lifting his head from George's shoulder to take off his boots. "Anyway, soon enough, one way or another, we'll have our freedom."
It was strange for them to imagine that. Freedom. Being able to go wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted. Living for themselves, not having to worry about being killed or someone dying.
"Which way would be faster, though?" Henry wondered out loud.
No one could say they hadn't thought the same as him. However, listening to their thoughts out loud made them realise how vicious it actually was. They were deciding on the fate of hundreds of people, children between them, just depending on how early they wanted to achieve their freedom.
"We're very cruel, aren't we?" Flor muttered, hugging her own body despite not being cold.
At first, there was no verbal reply to Flor's worry, making it an answer in itself. Was it cruel? Perhaps. Could they find another way to think about the situation? Not at the moment.
Their leader, however, collected herself before anyone else and, without getting up from the bed, grabbed Flor's hand. "It'll be fine, Flor." Mae intertwined their hands, comfortingly rubbing her thumb over the back of Flor's hand. "We got each other, and that won't change. Let them call us cruel. It's all a means to survive."
Flor glanced down at their hands, then at Mae's eyes. "That's the thing, Mae. I don't care what they say. I care what I tell myself at night. How many lies will I have to repeat until I believe them? How many more faces will appear in my nightmares?"
"I think we're cruel," said George. "But I also think we've got no other option. We'll at least give them a chance. They don't take it? Not our fault."
"That's called a threat." Henry chuckled bitterly, though more to himself than towards George. "Apparently, that's all we know how to do."
"Or what they have taught us to do." William pointed out.
"Same difference." Henry shrugged with a soft laugh. "Anyway, let's forget it. Better think about these kids as a short-term deal. We help them, and they help us. No funny business. At the end of the mission, every group will go for themselves."
Mae stared at him, impressed. "That must be the smartest thing I've heard you say so far."
Henry turned to look at her, bowing mockingly in the girls' direction. "I'm full of surprises, my dear."
"And there he goes again." Rowan chuckled. "Well, he did have a point."
Silence overtook the room for a minute, allowing everyone to have their own brief discussion about the suggestion inside their minds. From expressions alone, William could already tell that Henry's plan would end up being approved unanimously.
"Alright." Flor folded her arms over her chest, leaning against a bunk's ladder. "I say we vote."
"I don't think there's a need to vote," said George. "Come on, we know each other pretty well. No one here it's going to say no to that plan."
Before anyone could back George up, Mae got up from her seat, catching everyone's attention. Her eyes travelled from one member of the group to another. With every second, her brow sank further, until her frown made her look more than mildly concerned.
"If we leave . . . you know we might be leaving our families behind, too, right?"
That question hit William like a punch to the lungs. Family, those people that Thomas, who he hadn't managed to contact once since they met, had promised he would save. Indeed, if their family were in Group A or B, they would be freed. However, if they were in any other maze, there was no fate for them other than to continue to be lab rats.
"If they're still alive. Or if we even have anyone. If we ever remember who they are." Leen paused, clasping Bea's hand to gain courage. "That's a lot of ifs. I . . . as we are right now, without memories, I don't want to risk it."
"Yeah." Bea backed Leen up. "A lot of things can go wrong if we stay. If we go . . . it's safer for everyone, even our possible families."
Worriedly, Flor looked down at William, who was deep in thought. "What about you, William? You're the only one who knows that someone out there actually knew you. That boy from the B's. What do you think?"
William clasped his hands together over his lap, wondering about Flor's question. He couldn't take his recent discovery out of his mind. His dreams, which for so long he had suspected, had undoubtedly turned out to be memories. Or at least the majority of them. For the past weeks searching for the Right Arm, he had come to remember more about Thomas, his past friend, and Newt, apparently the boy he had fallen in love with since a very young age.
So, in reality, there was the B's boy, Thomas, and Newt. Those three would be the people supposedly missing him. If the B and Newt ever got their memories back.
There was no telling what would happen, of course. But he was sure of one thing: Thomas would understand their position. Before leaving, William would take the boy aside, explain briefly the situation, and make sure Thomas kept it until his death or until the Right Arm could give them their memories back.
Thomas would make sure Newt and the still-nameless boy wouldn't go after them or would get any other crazy ideas. Whatever happened, William only wanted for them to be safe with the Right Arm.
"I vote yes to Henry's plan," he said. "Let's be fair. I can't remember this boy, nor can he remember me. What's the point? Are we family? Friends? Lovers? We won't ever know, 'cause we can't remember. And it's probably going to stay like that for a while. So let's not give the Immunes eight Non-Immunes to worry about, and make our peace when the deal's done."
George patted his back comfortingly, siding with him immediately. Leen and Bea repeated their opinions, making sure their leader understood the lack of interest in endangering the Immunes any further than they would already do.
They had already won — five votes in favour, and three unknown — but they made no declaration. They all waited patiently for Flor, Mae, and Rowan to make up their minds and tell them their opinions. Rowan's didn't vary from Leen's and Bea's, but Flor's concentrated more on the actual betrayal they would have to perform unwillingly.
"I mean, we will leave them all alone to fend for themselves," she said. "If we don't explain a thing, which I guess that's exactly what we'll do, they might think of it as a betrayal. We just left. Poof. No last words, no goodbye. Just disappeared like they never meant anything to us—"
"That's the point," defended Henry. "They shouldn't be anything to us, Flor. They are not anything to us. Not without memories, alright? We are each other's family, not some random boys and girls we don't even know. I refuse to worry more about them than any of you, who I've been fighting alongside, and even put my life in your hands many times."
A single clap stopped the argument, forcing everyone's attention back to Mae, who was adjusting her ponytail. "Flor, even though I understand your point, and I share it, Henry's right." Her eyes were fixated on the entirety of the group. "I won't force anyone to come. You can change your mind. Now, if you don't, we'll leave the same day we get there after having some proper sleep. Either at midnight or dawn. I don't want any prying eyes watching us."
"Much less the Immunes," said Bea.
"Are we done with this? Can we not have a full-on argument and talk about something else?" Rowan suggested.
"Like what?" asked George.
Henry frowned as he looked up at the ceiling. "Don't you think Rat-faced-Janson is way too long of a nickname?"
"He does have a rat face, though." Bea rests her head on top of Leen's, laying her arm around the shortest shoulders.
"What about shrinking it?" asked Flor, a smile forming on her face. "Ratson."
"Not bad, but it doesn't completely deliver the message," Henry pointed out.
"What about Rat-Man?" Rowan said.
"Ohh."
"That's good."
"I like that one."
The chatter continued until late at night. At one point, the group had sat down in a circle on the floor, talking and joking around while ignoring the time ticking by. It could be around midnight when they decided to go to sleep.
Per usual, William heard everyone falling asleep one by one. Their breathings became more paused and fainter. Flor stayed up with him, not saying a word, simply staring at the ceiling together. It was a comfortable silence for long minutes when his eyes finally demanded him to close them.
A boy sat down next to him in a cold, empty, and dark room. The boy hugged his knees close to his chest while giving him worried side glances. "I lost them too that day, you know? Talk to me, Li."
"Only Newt and Sonya can call me that, Thomas." He muttered harshly, though Thomas's hurt reaction made him feel partly bad. "You told us you were part of Group A, but you're not even going to be sent to the maze. You didn't even tell Newt or Minho. They're your best friends."
"And it's killing me, Liam!" snapped Thomas. "You have no idea how seeing them in the maze these past two years has made me feel. If I could do anything for them, I would, OK? But I can't."
"You're a bloody Elite. You damn idiots have WICKED doing whatever you want."
"Really? That's what you think?"
"Yes, Thomas," he said calmly. "That's exactly what I think."
"You have no idea. Look, I know you and —"
"Don't even say that name in front of me." He had begun to lose his temper, something that apparently surprised Thomas. "He doesn't care about me. That's it."
"He does!" argued Thomas.
"He doesn't!" he shouted. "Five years, Thomas. Five fucking years! Not even once has he come to say anything to me. Not even a note."
"It's not his fault!" Thomas seemed distressed, as if there was something he was trying to hide, but couldn't anymore. "He can't . . . Not when both of you are under constant surveillance."
There was a pause, but shortly his younger self's voice appeared once again. "What do you mean by that? Thomas . . . Tommy, please. Since when am I in constant surveillance? What for?"
Thomas averted his eyes, gripping his trousers. His voice was no louder than a whisper, but there was no mistaking his words. "Janson told you the truth."
William opened his eyes for a split second, checking his surroundings before giving in to the heaviness of his eyelids. He was still in his group's room. His head hurt with every faint movement, and his breathing was accelerated to the point anyone would think that his lungs had been starved of air for hours.
What in the world? He thought, trying to take deep breaths to calm down. I . . . uh . . . One . . . Two . . . Three . . . Four . . . Five . . .
Counting from one to five worked wonders to get him back to breathing normally. And he had the boy, Newt, to thank. Apart from the excruciating pain, there was a strange feeling pounding at the back of his head. Newt, the boy who he was supposed to be in love with, now had been joined by a new name in his memories, Sonya.
Who was she? In which way was she important to him? If she could give him a special nickname, which apparently only she and Newt were allowed, which relation did he have with her? Were they friends? Family?
'William.' A girl's voice almost made him open his eyes to check he was, in fact, awake. Soon, he realised, the girl wasn't just using the same method to communicate as Thomas, she was the one who had told him that unsettling phrase weeks ago; 'Everything is going to change'.
'William, are you there?'
'Who are you?'
'You still can't remember me?' the girl asked, forcing William to keep himself from frowning.
'What do you mean 'still can't'?'
'Unimportant.' The girl answered. 'I'm Tessa . . . Well, Teresa, actually. You just used to call me Tessa all the time. Tom—Thomas just got stung. I'm worried, William.'
'Wait, stung? What's that? Is he OK? Where are you two?'
'We're in the maze, but he has no memories.' There was a pause. 'He was supposed to keep his memories, William. Something's wrong. I couldn't even contact you until now. Look out when you come here, please.'
'Wait, I thought you were Elites. As in the ones that create the Trials, not go in them.'
'It's not like that. At least not anymore. Tom—Thomas, Rachel, Aris and I convinced Chancellor Paige to let us go in the Maze.'
Aris? William felt taken aback by the name. A spark had lit in his mind, but it had been too quick to catch. Whoever they were, it would take longer to place them in his puzzle-like mind.
'Things are not going as planned. There's something they haven't told us.' Teresa continued to explain, forcing William's attention back to her voice.
'Oh, wait. Chancellor Paige said mazes A and B would go through a Phase Two that the Elites hadn't planned.'
'She what? No, that can't be.'
'I've got seven witnesses, Teresa. Everyone in my group heard it. A's and B's will have to escape the Sanctuary.'
'Sanctuary? Wha—'
He was alone. Teresa was gone and replaced by the loneliness of his own mind.
'Teresa?'
Only silence answered.
'Teresa, are you alright?'
No reply once again.
No, no, no. What happened? Did she get stung, too? William thought, finally opening his eyes to the cold, grey infirmary.
'Teresa, come on, please. Just tell me that you're alright.'
William tried for minutes, almost an entire hour, but she was gone. There was no reply. He couldn't feel her company, nor Thomas's. Something had definitely happened to them, and he wasn't allowed to know any further.
We'll get you guys to safety. He promised them, though he had given up on receiving any answer.
Please stay alive.