Lost Brother (The Maze Runner)

D-Day

     "I just don't see why you and your people even bother."

     "Me and my people?"

     "You clearly work for these shanks even though you're so bloody young. I don't see why they bothered havin' you come and talk to me."

     "I'm not that much younger than you, Newt."

     This is my third meeting with one of the survivors from Group A. They've been going about the same as this one is. They claim they can't trust me and that they won't tell me anything. Then they go on about how young I am. I knew from the beginning this wasn't going to be easy though. I have to gain their trust. They've been lied to and tortured for the past two years. Someone coming from nowhere and suddenly being nice to them is probably more suspicious then if I'd walked into the room acting like the perpetually arrogant Dr. Jansen.

     "At least you actually call me by my bloody name instead of that Subject A5 klunk, and, besides, I have no idea how bloody old I am in the first place.."

     "Is that what everyone else calls you?" I ask, ignoring his age comment.

     "Yes, and I'm bloody sick of it! I'm not you people's subject. I'm my own person."

     "Who said I thought of you as a subject?"

     "The jacket you're wearing did."

     I glance down at my clothes. The words WICKED embossed in white stare up at me like they always do, a constant reminder of who exactly it was I worked for. I unzip my jacket, shrugging it off and resting it on the back of my seat. "Is that better?"

     "Taking off your bloody jacket doesn't change anything." Newt glances down at the clipboard that I'd rested on the table when I came in."Your paperwork is all filled out. Are we done here?" The page was just a simple analysis of Newt's mental state. The only thing I'd noted was his obvious aggression, although it could just be because of who I am rather than his uh... condition. I'd written him off as still of sound-mind for now. Again, I would like to reiterate that I am not a psychiatrist, and, yet here I am, doing the job of one.

     "Well, yes, but-"

     "Kalhari, you need to get moving." Dr. Downey, the head of my department pops her head in the door with the announcement.

     I sigh, "Okay." I collect my things and make my way toward the door. I was really hoping I was going to have more time with the non-immune subjects like Newt. They have a major bomb about to be dropped on them, and it's my job to help them through it. I think. I have no idea what the hell I'm doing if you hadn't noticed already.

     My job is to talk to each of the subjects and help them deal with the trauma they've been put through. I still find it odd that WICKED decided to care about their mental state this far into their experiment, but I'm not in charge here.

     "That was Subject A5, correct?" Dr. Downey asks once I make it out into the hallway.

     "Yes."

     "You can take a break for now. Someone from the Health Department wanted to see you."

     "Did they say why?" I've only ever been down to the Health Department once for my initial screening when I was hired. I was determined to be immune, just like my brother and most of the others.

     "Nope, just that the wanted to see you."

     "Alright then."

     The health department is on the complete opposite side of the facility and up two floors, so I start off down the hallway toward the elevators. "Kalhari?" Dr. Downey calls after me.