To The Shucking End

Chapter 14

(A/N: This is the first chapter of The Scorch Trials. Also, there'll be some pretty coarse language from this point onward. Hope you enjoy. XxD)

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They flew for hours over sand and ruined cities.

Flying in that metal contraption was an odd sensation but one that they got used to, Tanya even fell asleep for a time on Newt's shoulder, her body utterly exhausted after the day she'd endured which she was thankful for because it meant that she wouldn't be able to dream. If she dreamed, all she would dream about was watching that spear go clean through Gally's chest.

But when she'd woken, it was almost as if she'd woken into a nightmare because she woke to the sound of gunfire.

Everyone except Thomas was awake as the helicopter landed and the doors were opened as they were filed out, Minho screaming at Thomas as he tried to wake him up.

While soldiers screamed about these things called Cranks, the group was herded inside where they met one Mr Janson, who ran the building. He claimed to be against WICKED, to want to get them to a Safe Haven outside the Scorch where WICKED couldn't touch them.

Tanya didn't like the looks of them. Then again, after dating and dealing with Gally's paranoia for three years, she didn't really like many people.

They got to stuff themselves silly with the delicious food that lined not one but three metal tables as they were ushered into a room. Safe to say that Newt loved it much better than Frypan's stew as he moaned in delight as he bit into a chicken drumstick, all of them piling their plates sky high and eventually ending up with a little food fight when Minho surprisingly said how much better this was than Frypan's food.

When Janson eventually came to get them, unsurprised when he saw the empty plates, he led them to showers where they got to scrub themselves clean with warm water – in Tanya's case boiling water as she turned it up as high as it could go, unable to get warm. It was heavenly though, to truly feel clean and not have to adhere to a strict amount of water so everyone had enough. Her skin was raw but clean with how hard she'd scrubbed her hair and her body, save for her ribs that were still covered in purple bruises, but they didn't hurt. Not anymore. Not with the ache in her heart that felt as if she was suffocating. Nothing could hurt more than that. She could barely bring herself to say his name as the image of him lying on the ground, reaching out for her, flashed in her mind over and over.

She was glad for the distraction when she was given a clean set of clothes after exiting the shower and the group was ushered into a lab where Tanya and Teresa were met with one Dr Crawford who gave them a check-up.

As much as those boys irritated her, Tanya wanted nothing more than to be squashed between Newt and Frypan as they had dinner again, rather than being poked and prodded with needles.

For a whole night, she bit her nails to stubs out of anxiety.

The next day, after one of the worst nights of her life, she couldn't take it anymore.

She'd demanded to see her friends or even just Newt, but they refused, insisting that she needed more medical care for the injuries to her ribs.

Tanya disagreed with their diagnosis.

And her disagreement got her a meeting with Janson. Except it felt like less of a meeting and more like an interrogation in the stone room with a keypad on the door and a rather ominous-looking mirror that she knew was one-way glass.

"Apologies for my tardiness, Tanya. Ensuring this place, along with you and your friends, stay safe is a never-ending task," he said with a smile as he sat opposite her.

"It's not like I'm going anywhere," she muttered, and Janson narrowed his eyes at her as she stared at the mirror.

"Dr Crawford tells me that your ribs are badly injured and yet you're refusing medical treatment," he said, getting straight to the point but failing to return her attention to him.

"Dr Crawford doesn't know what she's shucking talking about," she scoffed, staring at the reflection of herself that she didn't recognise.

There weren't any mirrors in the Glade. The closest you could get was the lake and even still, it was rarely a clear image with how murky the waters were.

She couldn't stop staring at herself.

At the dark circles that appeared under her eyes and how her skin looked pale, almost as if she'd seen a ghost - as if she was a ghost.

"Oh? And you do?" he questioned as she smirked, rather enjoying how her face looked when she did that because she loved it when Gally did it.

"I've seen someone with broken ribs before. I had a friend that tried to climb the walls of the Maze and when they fell, they broke their ribs. The bone punctured their lung, and they drowned in their own blood. My ribs aren't shucking broken."

"They may not be broken but they could be cracked, along with a rather long list of other potential problems. Why don't you let Dr Crawford help you?" he suggested, and her head whipped towards him, dark hair flying, and she hated it as she moved it out of her face.

"Why don't you let me see my friends? Or even just Newt? Hell, I'd even take Thomas at this point," she spat, and Janson only smiled.

"We can't let you join the others until we know that you are healed or healing from any and all injuries that were obtained from the outside world or the Maze trials where the virus roams free."

She angled her head at him.

"I thought us shanks were supposed to be immune? And that's why WICKED wanted us in the first place? So, why would the virus pose a problem?"

Janson's smile only grew as if he was pleased with her.

"I suggest you let Dr Crawford help you so you can join your friends," he said, and she only leaned closer to him over the table.

"Why don't you tell me what Crawford really wants to do with me?"

Janson couldn't help but chuckle.

"Dr Paige was right about you. You live up to your promising test results."

She leaned back in her chair, gripping the armrests tightly as the room felt smaller by the second.

"What are you talking about?"

And Janson pulled out what looked like a thin torch but when he pushed the button on the end, it didn't turn a light on.

Rather it activated steel handcuffs that wrapped themselves around her wrists, trapping her in the chair as she began to thrash.

"What are you doing?! Janson! Let me go!" she demanded, the panic in her voice increasing with each sentence.

"I'm afraid you won't be making it to the Safe Haven, Subject A-1," he said as he pulled out a syringe from his pocket and moved over to her as she fought her bindings but the metal was too thick and tight.

"Get away! Get the fuck away! Let me go!" she screamed as he approached, tapping the needle against his fingernail.

"You will be the first to be Harvested from your Maze, and your friends will be next," he promised as he brought down the needle into her neck and pushed down the plunger. "Because WICKED is good," he whispered into her ear, but she was already passed out as her head fell back and she surrendered to unconsciousness.

While she had no idea what Janson meant as she was taken back to the infirmary to be prepped, Thomas did. And he wasn't about to leave her behind.