What If | tmr, newt ✓

Chapter 4

I'm running. Not in the solid, stone walls of the Maze, but through clinical, modern corridors and down endless sets of stairs. I know I'm heading somewhere important, I don't know why, or why I have such a sense of urgency. I can hear panicked footsteps hurrying behind me, shouts called out, calling my name, calling-

"Wake up."

I jolt awake at the speed of light, fear rushing through my body. I hit my head with a considerable force against the wall behind me and immediately groan on the impact.

Shouts.

What were they calling?

They were calling my name.

Calling Adalyn.

"Adalyn," I whisper, smiling to myself. Of course. Hours ago I didn't know who I was, yet now it seems so familiar.

"What's that you said?" I hear from the ground above my cell. Alby startles me, and I look up.

"Adalyn," I repeat, the name rolling nicely off my tongue. "That's my name."

"It's nice to meet you, Adalyn," Alby says, genuinely smiling for once. "And since you're clearly still wanted here, welcome to the Glade."

He unlocks the door and holds out a steady hand, which I take as if accepting the beginning of my new life.

***

"...this is the Homestead. Pretty hastily built, but works for us. Ground floor is where the Med-jacks work, like our own little hospital wing. These buildings, as you know, are the Gathering room and Slammer..."

***

"...Slicers work inside there, Track-hoes work outside in the gardens. You'll get to meet the Keepers over time, possibly tonight, and you already know some from our meeting earlier..."

***

"...start with the Med-jacks tomorrow morning. Got any questions?"

Alby had been giving me the tour all morning, after eating a rushed breakfast. He informed me that we were 'running late' even though the sun was still low in its blinding sunrise.

"Not really," I say truthfully. He had done pretty well explaining everything in the duration of the tour.

"Good that. Since you don't start working 'till tomorrow, you're free for the rest of the day. Maybe go meet some of the guys or find something useful to do."

"Got it," I say, giving him a tight smile. I watch on aimlessly as he walks away and starts barking orders.

Noticing all the pointed looks in my direction and deciding I prefer solitude, I head into the Deadheads, what the Gladers call the forest in one corner of the glade. As I walk, words start rushing to my head, before I know it forming lyrics. Somehow, the tune comes naturally to me, and soon enough I'm wandering through the trees singing about memories. How ironic. I can't even remember learning to sing.

I find one of the taller trees and start climbing. I know that when I reach the top, I won't be granted a beautiful view. I won't even be a tenth of the height of these wretched walls. But I keep climbing nevertheless, the song still flowing effortlessly from my tongue.

When I'm high up enough to make looking down make me feel dizzy, I sit on one of the branches with my back to the trunk. It's not comfortable, no - heck, it's killing my back. But it's relaxing to sit here with just me and my thoughts.

My mind wanders back to the dream. Or was it a dream? Perhaps it was a memory. Alby said that nobody can remember anything except the basics like their name, how to read, talk - but apart from that, they're clueless. So why would I be any different?

WCKD's POV

Chancellor Paige,

As you have been informed, we have come across a situation many of us have only feared would happen. Up until this moment, the girl is safe, however the design of the Trials means we have made it nearly impossible for ourselves to retrieve her without the help of an insider; which too is impossible. Everything relies on the actions of the subjects.

Group A had set up a perfect situation; the plan was to leave her alone through the night, even allowing time for us to get her out. We simply knock her out, return her original memories, and destroy any memories of being sent into the maze. So when the young leader had suggested the plan, we were relieved.

That is, until something happened to prevent it. Subject A5 took it upon himself to sit outside her cell the entire night. From what we can tell, he wasn't there to stop her being taken - in fact, that hadn't even dawned on him - he was simply looking out for the girl. That night, he didn't close his eyes once; only to blink.

We could have knocked him out as well, but it would be hard to get to him - once he had seen us take the girl - without letting the others know immediately. He was protective, stubborn, and strong-willed, and, serving only as a variable, it seemed a regrettable decision he was inserted into the Maze Trials to begin with.

Now that the girl has been accepted into their midst, I have a strong sense she will not be let out of sight for long enough in an acceptable position to perform our removal procedure. Of course, we will shall be looking out for said moment with eagerness at all times in order to ensure her safety.

A.D Janson