Tired of Running

44|| two truths and a lie

// repeating days;
   it's all the same \\

    •

   "This is Aris..."
Thomas gestured to the lanky brown haired boy at the edge of the room.  Minho studied the boy, relaxing, "You know this shank?"
"He was in another maze..."
"Another- There was another maze?"

    Thomas was standing in front of Newt and Minho, the new boy next to him.  Aris held his hand out to them awkwardly- Harper was the only one that shook it.  Newt just nodded, while Minho said nothing.  Harper joined them, now sitting down, leaning against the wall.  "He was in his own maze...
One full of girls...  He escaped.  Just like us..." Harper's eyes widened, "What?"
Aris just nodded, "Group B they called us..."

  Janson cleared his throat; the room fell to an eerie silence- everyone staring on eagerly.
They waited.  Watched. 
Anxiety building, patience thinning.
"So...  You all just went ahead and found out information for yourselves.  I like it..."
The man actually smiled.  Minho nudged Harper's thigh with his foot, "I'm disliking this shank more and more every second..."
Harper nodded, but couldn't force a smile.
"You have all decided...that WICKED is well... wicked."  Newt grunted, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall.  "I can assure you that our motives are entirely pure."
"Our?  So you're with them."  Winston's eyes narrowed.  "All we look for is a cure."
"A cure?"  Harper shook her head.  Nothing made sense.  Everything was too much right now. 

    "Many years ago, the sun scorched the entire world."  Clips were clicked through on a screen as he continued, "What followed was worse...
They call it the flare."  More pictures and videos appeared.  Newt's hand went over his mouth, while Minho tensed up.
Demolished houses, piles and piles of bodies.
Fires.  Fires everywhere.  People screaming.
Some writhed on the floor, black liquid dripping from their mouth, a crazed, desperate and scared look on their faces.
Some fought- some just rocked back and forth,
some pulled their hair out, banged their heads against walls.  And there- one was bent over a body, blood dripping from her mouth-

  Harper closed her eyes tightly, her arms wrapping around Minho.  Head on his shoulder, tears falling.  "That's enough-"
Newt glared at the man, his own eyes avoiding the screen.  The ratman turned the device off, taking a deep breath, "A deadly, highly contagious disease that attacks the human brain.  Human made- designed to control population.  It got out of control, killing by the millions.  Hope for humanity, seemed to be lost.  But then... A new generation came; one that was immune to the disease and its deadly effects." 

    Quiet and scared murmurs filled the room,
"That's all of you.  We think you are the key to our cure- the hope to save the human race.
Now not all of you here are immune- but that's for another time."  Panic rushed through Harper at a dangerous rate.  "That is why the maze trials were so important- why everything we have put you through is absolutely necessary.  We may be harsh, but we do what must be done to find a cure."  Janson cleared his throat, standing.
"Phase two will begin tomorrow."

    Gasps, outbursts and yelling came all at once; a chaotic reaction.  All the gladers were on their feet, Minho and Newt both yelling at Thomas, Winston and Frypan screaming at Janson, while Harper covered her face, tears in her eyes, her lungs unable to take in air.
"SILENCE!" 
Ratman's voice was no longer soft; it now boomed through the room while his eyes burned dangerously, "We will do what we must to find a cure.  Tomorrow- at exactly 10:05,
a flat trans- a transportational door will appear.  You will all go through it and it will take you to your second trial.  Should you..."
He hesitated, "Choose not to go...
I can promise you your death here will be much worse than anything that awaits you outside."
More chaos came, an overwhelming noise causing Harper to curl up in a ball on the floor.