Till The WICKED End | A Maze Runner Story (English Version)

33. WICKED

"But Mum, you said you didn't trust them!" I still resisted the fact that our mother was planning to actually take us to WICKED now.
"Your father believed in what they were doing. He always said that they were the only chance of a cure for this world. He wanted it that way. I trust him."
It was already dark. She had Thomas and me each by one hand. We carried our things in backpacks on our backs and my brother let her pull him along without comment, unlike me who kept trying to break away.
"You said you didn't think they were good! That there's no way to know what they're doing to the kids!"
"Yes, that's what I said. But it's the only way to keep you safe," she countered as we hurried down a side alley.
By now we had reached the inner zone of the city, on the edge of which we had been hiding.
"But if they are good, why don't they take you too? Why are they separating us?" Thomas asked now, and I was grateful that he spoke up after all.
"I think they just don't have enough room for everyone. And you guys are more important than me."
"But why, Mom?" Now it was he who planted his feet in the dirt, making us stop.
"You may not understand it yet, but you are very special. The day will come when you will do great things, you hear? You are very special children. And you can make a difference."
For the first time, the thought sprouted in my mind that what Thomas and I could do with our hands might not be normal. I had always thought that all siblings, at least all twins, could do that. But what if we weren't normal? What if our mother was right and we were actually special?
Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't right to go to these people. I couldn't explain how she could change her mind so quickly. Was it because Dad was dead? Was that how she wanted to make his death better? What would happen to her when she was all alone? She was the strongest woman I could imagine, but how long would she last?
I looked at her from the side as we hurried along now. While I did not resist now, I still did not agree to leave her alone. Her bow hung from her nearly empty quiver of carved arrows and she carried our father's rifle over her shoulder. It just remained for me to hope that she would survive.
After crossing more alleys, we encountered the first people. They were huddled on the side of the road or warming themselves at fire barrels that had been set up here and there.
"The infection check is just ahead," our mother explained, gesturing with her head down the big street.
We quickened our steps again. The closer we got to the roadblock that appeared to be the infection check, the more clearly I saw that a large crowd had gathered in front of it, yelling at the military. They were shouting for help, for admission, for justice. But their pleas and cries were not heard.
When we reached the crowd, it seemed impossible at first to get through and up to the narrow gap in the chain-link fence, in front of which there were even more soldiers than there were anyway.
Our mother bent down and lifted us both up. I could feel her legs shaking under the weight of both of us, but she bit her lower lip, just as I so often did, and pushed and shoved her way through the crowd. Slowly but surely we approached the soldiers at the gate.
I heard a dog bark and when I looked around for its source, I realized that some of the soldiers were leading trained sheepdogs that barked at people when they got too close to the barrier. And this happened almost all the time.
The men were heavily armed, had rifles, pistols and batons hanging from their belts. They wore gas masks, which was why I couldn't make out their faces. A shiver ran down my spine. I clutched at our mother's collar and looked over at Thomas, who was staring back in horror.
Now she had almost made it through the crowd, although I couldn't explain how. Finally, people made way for us and got out of the way. Panting, she addressed the soldier standing just outside the gate.
"Please... Please, help us!"
She set us down and squatted. When I looked into her face, I was horrified to see that all the strength and power had gone out of her eyes and she was just looking agonized. Tears had gathered in them and were now beginning to run down her cheeks. With trembling hands she straightened Thomas's jacket and stroked my cheek.
"Never forget... I love you very much," she said, her voice threatening to break. "I love you, Thomas. I love you, Anna."
I reached for the stuffed animal still in the knot of my jacket and pulled it out.
"Here, Mum. Leo will take care of you."
She had to press a hand over her mouth to keep from sobbing. "No. No, Leo is yours. He's your protector!"
But I pressed him firmly against her. "I want you to keep him until we meet again!"
Then two soldiers grabbed Thomas and me and lifted us each up.
"Mum!" Thomas cried in horror, struggling against the man.
I, on the other hand, just looked back over the soldier's shoulder and stared at our mother. She was still sitting on her knees, one hand pressed in front of her mouth, my stuffed lion in the other. Behind her the crowd was raging, but it was as if I couldn't hear them at all, as if my ears were growing deaf and numb.
Thick children's tears rolled down my cheeks and I heard Thomas calling for our mother over and over again, but neither his nor my carrier let that stop them. They carried us to a train and maneuvered us inside. At first I couldn't see anything because my eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the darkness, but then I realized that there were other children there who looked just as scared and terrified as I felt.
Another soldier took the knife from me that was still stuck in my waistband before pushing me into a seat next to a dark blond boy who was looking at me with interest. But I didn't pay him any attention at all, I just reached for my brother's hand, which was freighted next to me.
The doors closed and slowly the train started moving. Faster and faster we went, away from our mother, away from our home. Thomas squeezed my hand and I sensed that he was as confused and frightened as I was.
Then a woman, dressed all in white, sat down in front of us and put a hand on each of our shoulders as she leaned in toward us.
"What are your two names?" she asked us, and her voice was warm.
"I'm Thomas and this is my sister Anna..." my brother whispered.
She nodded. "Thomas, Anna... It's okay," she said, leaning back again as she smiled at us.
I released my gaze from her again and looked around the train car we were in. My gaze lingered on the boy to my right, who looked at me unblinkingly and grinned crookedly when our eyes met.
"Hey," he said. "I'm Gally. And what's your name?"