Nepenthe (TMR FF) UNDER EDITING

Chapter 35

{A/N. Oh look, it's Emma!}

An hour later, Thomas and I were sat in front of the keepers, minus Zart and Gally. It was like a terrible reminder that everything was going to shit. Thomas was a little annoyed that they didn't let Teresa come to the Gathering, but I was kind of relieved. I'll already have the keepers judging me shortly; I didn't need the queen bitch sticking her nose in my business.

"All right, Greenie," Alby suddenly announced. He looked much better than he previously had, as he sat in the middle of the semicircle of chairs, right next to Newt. "Forget all the beat-around-the-bush klunk. Start talking."

Thomas turned white as he took a deep breath. I reached over and put my hand on his arm, trying my best to comfort him. He smiled gratefully at me, leaning into my touch.

"It's a long story," he began. "When I went through the Changing, I saw flashes of images. A lot came back to me, but only some of it's clear enough to talk about. Other stuff has faded or is fading." He paused. "But I remember enough. The Creators are testing us. The Maze was never meant to be solved. It's all been a trial. They want the winners—or survivors—to do something important." He trailed off, glancing at me in his peripheral vision.

"What does that have to do with Emma?" Newt asked.

"Let me start over," Thomas said, rubbing his eyes. "Every single one of us was taken when we were really young. I don't remember how or why—just glimpses and feelings that things had changed in the world, that something really bad happened. I have no idea what. The Creators stole us, and I think they felt justified in doing it. Somehow they figured out that we have above-average intelligence, and that's why they chose us. I don't know, most of this is sketchy and doesn't matter that much anyway."

Thomas looked at me again, and sighed softly.

"Emma is the most important of us all." Someone snorted in the background, making me turn towards them. It was Winston, and he looked more than just a little annoyed.

"No offence to Emma or anything, but how is she shucking important?" He asked. I winced softly, looking away. That hurt my heart a little.

"They need her. Without Emma, the creators can't find a cure." Thomas explained, looking down at me. "Without her, none of this would be possible." He said, gesturing towards the whole Glade.

Everyone's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Alby asked, his voice hard. I wanted to shrink back in my seat and melt away into a puddle of nothingness. Everyone was staring, and Winston looked like he wanted to eat me.

"There's something inside of her, something that the creators want. I kept hearing them repeat these words...kill zone and another word starting with N. I can't really remember what it was, but it seemed important to them." He told Alby, before he turned his head and looked straight at me. "Emma, you need to tell me what you remember. I can't tell them anymore until I know it's true; until I understand your point of view."

I stared back at Thomas, not saying a word. If I told them about my memories, then they'd think I had something to do with this. Maybe I did. But I was good. Dave told me that I was good. We should get Dave to tell us his memories. He'd help me.

I hesitated before sighing and rubbing a hand down my face. "When I went through the changing again, I saw us." I told him, avoiding his eyes. "I'm pretty sure it was a memory of the first time we met. A guy called Janson told you that you had to respect me because I was 'the future'. The next memory, I was talking to a boy. He was in one of the last memories when I first went through the changing. He talks to me in my head—"