Steel and Stone [The Maze Runner (Scorch Trials) Fanfiction]

Subject A3

"Since when do you have a tattoo?" Minho asks, tugging on the collar of my shirt, his eyes going wide in shock.

"What?! Since never? Minho what the shuck are you taking about!" I ask starting to panic, when did this happen? The thought that someone could give me tattoo overnight without me knowing is terrifying. What else could they do?

"It says 'subject A3 the compass, and the incentive." Minho says, horrified. "What the shuck does that mean?"

"You have one too!!!" I yell ripping his shirt collar down.

"What's it say?" He asks, trying in vain to look at it himself.

"It says, 'subject A7, the leader and the follower." I read out loud, totally confused by both tattoos.

"How can I be the leader and the follower?" He asks throwing up his hands in frustration. I find it funny that the paradox bothers him more than the fact that someone gave him a tattoo in the middle of the night without him knowing. By now the other gladers are running around the room checking each other's tattoos.

"Subject A5, the Glue and the finale." Minho says reading off Newt's tattoo. Newt had come back, along with Alex and Winston, once Winston had woken up.

"The glue and finale? Bloody what does that mean?" Newt asks looking puzzled.

"Well the glue is probably because you keep us all together, but the finale? I have no idea."  I offer with a shrug.

"Thomas what does yours say?" I ask noticing him alone in the corner.

"I don't know." He says looking at the floor.

"Want me to read it for you?"

"Sure."

I'm horrified by what I find. Written on his neck are the words:
Subject A2, The Betrayed

"Well what's it say?" He asks looking impatient.

"Umm..... The betrayed?" I stammer not really wanting to tell him, but not seeing much of a choice. His eyes grow wide in horror.

"Teresa." He mumbles.

"I'm sure she's fine, she's probably back wherever the boys came from. With group B." I reassure him. Where I'm guessing we would be too if we hadn't left last night. Swapped out with the boys from group B. Part of me wonders why they let us stay, if they managed to give us tattoos, surely they could have managed to take us.

"Look at the door." He says absently.

"Wha-"

"Just look at the door." He says, pointing to a plaque I hadn't noticed before, near the edge of wall. I look closely and read the words written on it, slowly realizing why Thomas was so freaked out.

Teresa Agnes
Subject A1, the betrayer

The betrayer and the betrayed. It makes sense, explaining why Teresa was acting so weird.

"Oh." I say, not really sure what to tell Thomas. "It's probably just one of WICKED's mind games."

"Ya maybe." Thomas says, but he doesn't look like he believes it.

"You guys!" I yell, trying to get everyone's attention over the confusion. "Hey! You guys! Listen!"
I scream, and finally, everyone turns to me. "This is still WICKED, the rescue, the safety, none of it was real."

"Are you sure?" Newt asks, looking like he really hopes I'm not.

"Pretty sure, my tattoo says 'subject A3' that's what the lady from WICKED called me at the end of the maze, not to mention all the other weird stuff."

"Well then, what do we do?" Minho asks, looking about as discouraged as I feel. WICKED set a trap, and we walked straight into it. What strikes me as odd however, is if they managed to give us tattoos in the middle of the night, obviously they could have taken us wherever they took Teresa, but they didn't, for some reason they let us stay. I would wonder more about it, but at the moment I have plenty to think about.

"Well, there's got to be a way out, I mean, we got in somehow?" I suggest.

"No, there's no way out, the door we came in is gone." Thomas says, shaking his head. "Trust me, I checked everywhere."

"Not this again." Minho groans, rolling his eyes.

"Not what again?"

"Having to search for a shuck exit."

Suddenly an alarm rings out, the sound unbearably loud in the tiny room. I look at Newt, confused, and see the same look reflected on his face. The sound is familiar, and he's noticed too.

"It sounds like the greenie alarm?" I say, though it's more of a question than a statement.

"Don't tell me we're still going to get bloody newbies dumped in our laps." Newt says, moving towards the door. I couldn't agree more, although that's basically what happened with the three boys this morning. Except, we don't know any more about the situation than they do, but at least we know each other. We all rush to the door, throwing it open and rushing into the common room.

The room is empty, completely empty. All the bodies are gone, even the the smell is gone. No way they moved all those bodies that fast, and even if they did, that smell would've taken forever to get out.

"What the...."

"How?"

"No way!"

We fan out to examine the room, checking every wall for signs of a door. They got the bodies out somehow, but how? Our search turns up nothing, and we frustratedly move back to the center of the room.

"Wait a minute... Do you guys hear that?" I ask, tilting my head to listen closer.

"Hear what? I don't hear anything?" Minho asks, looking around the room.

"Exactly." I reply turning to head for the dorm room.

"The voices are gone." Newt says, realizing what I was getting at.

When I enter the room, I immediately look towards the windows, only to find them bricked up. I know for sure that they did not have time to brick up four windows in the time we were gone. What the heck is going on here?
Newt comes in behind me and walks forward, putting a hand to the bricks.

"It's solid?" He says, shocked. "No way they had time to put this up."

"Look at the beds? They're all made nice and neat again?" I say. "Why would they do that?"

"And the clothes are folded and put away." Newt says, pulling out one of the drawers. "It's almost like they–"

"Switched the rooms." I say, finishing his sentence. He nods his agreement.
There has to be a logical solution to this, I just haven't found it yet. I tell myself, overcome with a feeling of utter confusion. "What now?"

Newt doesn't answer, just stands there staring at the window. The other gladers have filed in, all taking turns touching the bricks and pointlessly arguing about it.

All except Thomas, who is laying on his bed, looking like he's asleep. Maybe he's right, maybe, the only thing left to do now, is wait.

"Is Thomas asleep?" Minho asks.

"I don't know, but it's looking like a good idea."