"So when did you- you know- fall in love with her?" Thomas smirked, knowing he had him right where I wanted him, with his head in Fionaland.
"Woah," Newt defeated with his hands up, "What?"
"I may be slow to getting to know things around here, but...
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The flare was consuming me. The accuracy of that statement might have been a little on the nose, but it was true nonetheless. The parts of me I wished to keep in tack were slipping through my fingers. After months of fighting it, I hurt her beyond repair. All the things that I wanted didn't matter. I only wanted the pain to stop.
I never wanted to see that look on her face. I never wanted to lash out at her. I never wanted our last conversation to be the one with the most regrets. That's what the flare did: take away all choices. I was creeping into my veins faster now, I could feel it. Sometimes I worried I was more flare than human. It was on my skin, in my blood, and controlling parts of my brain. How much was left of me?
Every part that was left of me had to be focused on finding Minho. I had to manage at least that. It wasn't an option. It was a mission, and I would do my job. I'm damn sure that it'll be the last thing I do, so it will get done. After that, let the virus feast on what's left of me. It won't be much, only remnants and fragments.
Large parts of me were devoted to Fiona. I left my heart and soul with her. Tommy will get the last of my sanity. Teresa doesn't deserve the last of my patience, but she will get in nonetheless. All being used to refrain me from shooting her in the back of the head as she directs us through WCKD's compound. Minho can have whatever guts and glory remain. When I think of it that way, it doesn't seem like the flare is getting anything other than skin and bones.
Getting through the front gates felt easier than it should have been. Which was surely my paranoia. After meeting Teresa and Thomas in the lobby, we took a hard left. Moving with intention but not too fast. If I moved as quickly as my heart was beating, we would raise red flags across the building in seconds.
We went to a lower level, passing a parking garage. Another masked figure matched my steps, turning his head only for a second to confirm the mission was on track. Gally entered inconspicuously, keeping pace in front of us. At the end of the hall, Teresa's identification pin under her skin scanned us into the stairwell. This is the worst part of the job.
Minho was on sublevel three. Two floors below us, with the only access point being this stairwell. If we failed, if WCKD was notified, if anything went wrong, this would be the only way out. We would become fish in a barrel. Janson could smoke us out if he wanted us alive and flood the sublevels if he wanted us dead. We would have fewer options of escape than the Glade.
"Hold on. Hold on." Gally read metal electrical boxes on the wall. "I can get in here."
"Stay there," Thomas said, still pushing Teresa down the stairs. "Throw me the walkie."
Gally agreed, already getting to work from the stairwell. It might be a good advantage to have someone guarding the one way out.
For a split second, I wondered what must have happened to him in the last year that he gained this ability. Gally the builder, now a hacker. A stiff cough caught me, sending a quake through my body. When I opened my eyes, it was Teresa staring back at me. I could see the scientist in her couldn't help it as she calculated the minutes left in my life. That cold shock actually helped, bringing me back to the task.
