A Group B fanfiction following Group B's Keeper of the Runners (Minho's equivalent), Rogue. Read the Scorch Trials through the perspective of Group B.
'Every time she closed her eyes, she saw them-her friends and their bodies. She saw Rachel and Ada...
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THE first thingRogue noticed was the silence. No wind. No cocking of guns. No coughing from the sleeping girls nearby.
Just stillness.
Then came the smell, sharp and sterile. Disinfectant. Bleach. The kind that burned in her throat and made her stomach turn.
Her eyes snapped open.
White walls. Smooth tile. Rows of metal beds lined up with military precision.
Her heart stuttered. No. No, no, no—
They were back.
"Morning, sunshine," someone muttered angrily.
Rogue turned. Sonya sat cross-legged on the edge of the next bunk, crunching loudly into a bright red apple. Juice ran down her wrist. Her face was twisted in fury.
Rogue blinked at her. "Where... where the hell are we?"
Sonya spat out the core. "Take a guess."
Florence's voice came from the far corner. "Same compound. Same beds. Same finchin' nightmare." She was sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes red-rimmed.
Rogue pushed herself up, dizzy. "That's not possible. We were just—"
Hashslinger cut her off, standing with her fists on her hips. "Save it. We've done this shtick already, Ro."
Rogue's throat tightened. "So... Huck sold us?"
"Sold us, traded us, gift-wrapped us for WICKED, pick your verb." Hashslinger kicked the leg of a bed so hard the metal screeched. "He took the money and ran."
Wally was sitting on the floor clutching a ration bar, her eyes wide. Rogue slammed her fist into the wall. The pain grounded her, cleared her head.
The room buzzed with fury now. Girls shouting, cursing, hitting whatever they could get their hands on. Florence tried to calm them, but her voice was drowned out by the chaos.
"Why is there food here?" Rogue demanded suddenly, looking down at a tray on the nearest bed. Apples, sealed rations, bottles of water. "I thought everyone in this place was dead. The bodies— the blood— everything was trashed when we left."
"They cleaned it," said Harriet quietly. She hadn't moved from the doorway, her arms folded tight. "Made it pretty again for the next round."
Rogue stared at her. "You're telling me WICKED just reset the whole thing? Like none of it happened?"
"Looks that way." Harriet's eyes were cold. "And that klank delivered us right back into their hands."
Rogue huffed. "I'll kill him if I ever see him again."
