'Til My Last Breath

The Reunion After Two Years

Reading these documents for almost four weeks has caused me to think twice about all this. Is it really okay to put these kids through all this hell just to find a cure that most likely doesn't exist?

The documents are the subjects that have survived the Trials. Each subject is extremely valuable; especially Thomas, Newt, and Minho, my personal favorites; they entertained me as I watched them go through the Trials—their bickering is kinda funny sometimes.

I sat there, staring at Thomas' document; his responses are exactly what WICKED has predicted, maybe it'll stay that way, but I don't think it'll happen. You see, I'm different; yes, I'm Janson's daughter but that's not all; I'm also a non-carrier of the Flare and immune to it's effects along with special abilities I gave myself.

Yes, it was probably stupid, but I do not regret it because it gives me an advantage; I can read people's minds and memories, speak to them telepathically, and physically and emotionally feel how they feel.

Weird, I know, but I honestly did it to see what it felt like because WICKED has the technology; when would I ever get the chance again?

And the reason I think the plan won't work now is because Thomas is currently sitting in a padded room hating on so many things and all those things lead up to WICKED; he won't ever trust them.

I hear the door creak open before it closes. I looked up to see dad walking up to me, a smile on his face as he wiped his hands on a rag. "Anything?"

"Nope," I answered, shifting my gaze to his. "Everything seems to be in place, but I don't think some of the subjects will co-operate with the Swipe." I clicked my pen nervously as I bit my bottom lip. "There has to be another way."

"Evangeline, dear, I've told you time and time again: there is no other way," he stated firmly, his gaze hardening before he looks at the documents spread out across the table. "You've been searching for mistakes haven't you?"

"Yes." I avert my eyes back to the documents. "How long until a cure is developed?"

Dad's face softened up. "We'll soon be able to bring everyone back to their sanity," he promised quietly with a smile playing at his lips. Then, he turned and walked out.

This is gonna go unexpectedly wrong.

•<~>•

I am self-tasked to take the non-immunes out and test them because, of course, no one else will.

I hastily walk to the room where they kept the subjects and slipped inside while everyone was asleep. Yes, I might get caught, but I need to do this, I might can develop a cure before someone else dies.

I peer around the dark room and spot Cami, a girl from Group B.

Slowly, I creep towards her and gently push her shoulders to wake her. Her eyes crack open and she gasps. I quickly put my finger over my mouth to signal her to be quiet; she puts her hand over her mouth.

"Come with me," I whisper before quietly heading back to the door.

Cami follows me all the way to the lab where no one is at the time. I take an empty syringe from a drawer and walk over to her. "I'm gonna need some blood," I explain. "And you cannot tell anyone about this."

She nods before I direct her to a chair and quickly grab a swab of alcohol and clean the crook of her elbow to draw the blood from.

Slowly, I insert the needle into her arm and slowly pull blood out; Cami cringes and bites her bottom lip from the pinch.

I mutter an apology before stopping what I'm doing and pull the needle out. Quickly, I cover the area with a little cotton swab to collect any blood that leaks out and set the syringe on the counter beside me. I patch Cami up as I say, "I'm not supposed to be doing this, so you're gonna have to sit here for a little bit so the bleeding will stop before I take you back; I can't be raising any suspicions."