Nepenthe (TMR FF) UNDER EDITING

Chapter 45

I sat, curled up in Thomas' lap, Newt sitting in the seat in front of ours, and Teresa sitting beside us, holding my brothers hand. I stared straight forward, my eyes blurred with tears that I refused to shed. I couldn't do this. I couldn't just sit here and act like my two friends didn't die. I couldn't sit here and forget about how we left them there in cold blood. Chuck and Gally. The younger boy used to think I was weird. He was so closed off, and didn't want to open up to anyone when he got to the Glade, and yet he chose me. He chose me to be his friend. I was the one he let his problems out to. I was the one who cuddled him at night when he was too scared to sleep. I was the one who promised to protect him. Then there's Gally, who hated me at first, or at least tried to. He became one of my closest friends, the bond so tight that we could speak telepathically. I couldn't feel him. That's how I knew he was dead. I couldn't even feel him. It wasn't the same as before. He wasn't just gone. He didn't just disappear. He was taken. Taken from me.

"What's going on?" Thomas suddenly asked, directing the question to the lady across the aisle. Our 'rescuers'. Ben sat beside her, a small smile playing on his face.

The lady sighed, her eyes softening as she looked around at the Gladers. Her black hair hung over her shoulders, still wet from the rain, despite it being around an hour since we all got on the bus.

"That's a very long story." She said, pressing her lips together. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, suddenly angry.

"I think we have time." I told her, my jaw clenching. She raised her eyebrows, looking me up and down. Her eyes curiously roamed my blood stained skin and clothes, and she suddenly seemed a lot more sympathetic. It made me even more mad then I already was.

"It'll take a while before you get your memories back, if ever—we're not scientists, we have no idea what they did to you, or how they did it." She explained, sighing.

"I don't want my memories back." I shrugged, narrowing my eyes at her. She seemed to flinch back at my glare, but remained a relatively calm façade. "I want to know why."

Newt, who was still sitting in front of us, glanced back, a concerned look in his eyes.

"It started with the sun flares," the woman said, her gaze growing distant.

Teresa went to talk, but Thomas hushed her, the look in his eyes telling me that they were talking telepathically. My stomach dropped at that realisation and I felt like crying again. I wanted Gally. I wanted to talk to Gally. I just wanted my friends back. That's all I'll ever want.

Aris? I tried in my mind, my thoughts sounding as desperate as I felt. I let out a shaky breath, waiting for someone to reply, but ultimately, no one did. I couldn't even talk to Aris, one of the only connections I have with my past life, besides Thomas and Teresa. It made me frustrated. I wanted to scream and cry and punch something.

"The sun flares couldn't have been predicted. Sun flares are normal, but these were unprecedented, massive, spiking higher and higher—and once they were noticed, it was only minutes before their heat slammed into Earth. First our satellites were burned out, and thousands died instantly, millions within days, countless miles became wastelands. Then came the sickness."

My heart clenched at the word. Sickness. Death. Sickness. Death. Those two words felt like a stab to the chest.

"As the ecosystem fell apart, it became impossible to control the sickness—even to keep it in South America. The jungles were gone, but the insects weren't. People call it the Flare now. It's a horrible, horrible thing. Only the richest can be treated, no one can be cured. Unless the rumors from the Andes are true."

Ben was no longer grinning, just staring at me intently with a small frown on his face. I raised my left eyebrow slightly. Why was he looking at me like that?

The lady then turned to me, her eyes hardening. "Do you really have no memories?" She asked, her voice cold.

I flinched back, my eyes widening. "Uh—Yes—I mean—No I don't. I—"

She seemed to ignore me, rolling her eyes. "Most of the physical effects are caused by something else. First the delusions start, then animal instincts begin to overpower the human ones. Finally, it consumes them, destroys their humanity. It's all in the brain. The Flare lives in their brains. It is an awful thing. Better to die than catch it." She gave me a pointed look, raising her eyebrows. "They did however, find something that could lead to a cure."

Something flashed through my mind, a memory of sorts, but I couldn't hold onto long enough to make sense of it. Just flashes.

"If it wasn't for Ben, then I might have killed you as well, Emma." My breath caught in my throat at the malice in her voice, and I froze. "You're just as bad as the rest of them. You might have believed you were helping, but you were doing anything but. The only thing you were helping with was the destructive of these kids." She said, gesturing to the Gladers.

Thomas' grip on my tightened and I shrunk back, trying to become as small as possible.

"I don't understand." I muttered, my voice weak.

"Of course you don't. You don't remember anything, right? To think you're the leader of Wicked." She scoffed, crossing her arms.

My jaw clenched in reflex and I sat up straighter. "Shut up! I'm not the fucking leader of this stupid organisation of murderers, you got that? I would never hurt my friends, so stop trying to pin me down as the bad guy! You're all just manipulating me. You're lying! I would never agree to be a part of Wicked, so stop telling me I was. I'm sick of people acting like they know me. I'm sick of people trying to control me."

Thomas squeezed my waist, whilst the lady just smirked, a knowing look in her eyes. "They say you have the cure, yet you seem the most affected out of everyone here."

My head snapped up. "What are you—"

She ignored me, looking to the rest of the Gladers. "We won't let them do this to children. We've sworn our lives to fighting WICKED. We can't lose our humanity, no matter the end result. It's our hope that you'll join us."

She then turned away, and continued to gaze out the window like she had been doing before Thomas asked what was going on.

"Ignore her." Newt told me, reaching over the back of his chair to grab my hand. "You were right. They don't know you."

I smiled weakly at him, shaking my head.

"Seems like she knows more about me then I do."