What If | tmr, newt ✓

Chapter 34

When I finally emerge back to consciousness, I daren't move. I lie frozen, keeping my eyes only fractionally open. My head throbs as I survey the room; white walls, a singular door, a medical table by my bedside. I don't recall this being in the Glade.

And then I remember.

A small, pained cry escapes my lips as I close my eyes firmly shut, shutting out the clinical-looking room from my vision and stopping tears. Pushing Newt out the way, slamming my head on the ground, being taken by a Griever, that was all real. But that means...

I should be dead.

Last night, I was the victim of the Grievers' attacks: one a night, Gally had said, before he himself was taken. And every one of those boys were taken and killed in the grasp of those hideous monsters. Or were they? Did we have any proof? I think about it logically: no. We didn't know those boys were killed, only taken.

My mind is a minefield, threatening to blow at any second, alongside the headache now forming. Miraculously, I don't seem to feel any physical pain, despite the harm that came to me yesterday.

Or was it yesterday? I realise I have no track of time. My clothes have been switched as well as my watch having been taken. I'm now dressed in plain black cargo trousers and shirt, which appear almost menacing against the bright white of the walls. I decide there's no time to waste - I need to figure out where the hell I am.

The most obvious escape route is the door. Well, when I say obvious, I mean the only, unless the walls are magically going to open up. At this point, nothing would surprise me. They'd probably fall down to reveal the staircase to Hell.

I take the few steps to the door in my boots, the haunting sound of them against the white tiles sending a chill through my bones. I try the door. Locked, of course, but it was worth a shot.

"Hey! Let me out!" I shout, pounding against it with my fists. I even try ramming against it with my shoulder and picking the lock but to no avail.

Frustrated, I give the door one last kick before pacing back to my bed. The table beside it has nothing on it, so I shove it over for good measure. To hell with their stupid furniture.

At last, someone responds to my rage. The door flies open after multiple locks have been clicked, and a man walks in, perfectly calm amidst my storm. He closes the door behind him but I don't miss the two armed men that followed, no doubt waiting on the other side.

"What the hell do you want with me?" I spit, filled with seething resentment for this man and his pristine suit that matches the walls.

"Ah, Adalyn. You see, just because you think you've woken up in an insane asylum, doesn't mean you have to act like a madman." His eyes gloss over the upturned table before focusing back on me. "My name is A.D Janson, and I would appreciate it if you treated me with respect."

I curse respect.

He doesn't look angry, instead surveys me like I'm a little child misbehaving. Patronising me, trying to make me feel inferior. I don't succumb. He sighs. "Adalyn, you will follow me please."

"Why would I do that?" I hiss.

"Just a minute ago you were having a fit to be let out. I suggest you swallow your tongue and follow me." He opens the door. "Oh, and you should know - there are cameras everywhere should you try anything remotely unorthodox."

And there go my plans to escape. I swallow, taking the few tentative steps out the door before I'm tackled from behind.

"Hey!" I shout, fuming. A mask is placed over my face but before I can rip the material away my hands are bound together behind my back.

"Wouldn't want you escaping now, would we?" One of the 'bodyguards' says, almost too sweetly. I hiss back at him like a riled cat, trying not to trip and to keep pace with them all as we start walking.

My mind is trained to recall the twists and turns of the Maze, so I effortlessly remember the way we came. After what feels like hours of tedious marching along corridors, I feel myself being forced into a chair with my feet tied and the black fabric torn off of my head. I blow a strand of hair from my face, glaring daggers at the three men.

Janson comes in front of me and crouches down on his haunches, at my eye level. I'm tempted to bash my head against his own but then remember I don't want permanent brain damage.

"Now, Adalyn, as you know, you have been a part of our Maze Trials for months now."

Trials?

"At first, we wanted to get you out, but you didn't..." he pauses. "Co-operate."

I spit at him, and as he wipes his eyes I realise I've just proven his point. Damn.

"So, your life continued as any other of those boys' would have. Except now, we've got a little extra treatment for you."

I go extremely still, even more so than I thought humanly possible. My heart is beating in my ears in fear and I barely hear him continue.

"Don't worry, we still don't want to harm you - much." He chuckles at my unease. "We just want you to play a bigger part in these... games. Oh yes. You're going to help us with the fate of your friends."

"I'll never help you," I snarl.

He ignores me, still smiling. I wish I could punch that grin right off his scrawny face. "Trust me, you will," he says. With those words left hanging in the air, he gets up and stands behind my chair.

At once, the wall in front of me bursts to life. It is filled by multiple screens, each showing something different. As soon as I realise what I'm watching, my eyes fill with horror. I recognise the Glade, and all my friends. At first I think it's real time, then I notice the very un-scorched Map Room and people walking around that I believed to be dead.

It starts with me arriving in the Box. Then they skip ahead to me becoming a Runner, some of the time spent in the Maze, and the first time I kissed Newt. They leave it on that for a while and my heart pangs with a sadness I didn't think possible. When they move on, they show me reading the note they sent and rejecting it, surviving the Maze, and later me enjoying time with the other Gladers, laughing with Minho, singing by lamplight.

I know what's coming next.

Then everything starts to go wrong. Ben gets stung. Thomas arrives, then Teresa. Ben gets banished and then Thomas spends the night surviving in the Maze with Minho, and I'm forced to watch as they narrowly escape the Grievers.

All the next events happen in quick succession, and they're still vivid in my mind from actual experience, from the sun disappearing right to when I was taken away.

When the screens turn black I register my face wet and collar soaked with tears I didn't know I was crying. I go to speak up just as they turn on again, this time with events I've never witnessed before. I feel my eyes widen involuntarily.

After a couple of days and nights of Minho trying to calm Newt down, Thomas wakes up, explaining everything he's seen in the Changing. The Gladers hatch a plan, and that very same evening they set off into the Maze. I watch incredulously, tracking their movements all the way to the Cliff, where they face a swarm of Grievers.

The footage goes no further.

I hate that I've given in to their form of 'torture', but I have to ask. "Then what? Are they safe?"

Janson laughs, enjoying every second of my pain. "Like I said, Adalyn, you're going to decide. You see, there is no more footage to watch."

"What do you mean?" I say, my voice shaking.

"What you just watched," he says, "is - how can I put this - live. At this very moment, your friends are battling our monsters in a hopeless attempt to escape."

I shake my head in shock and disbelief. I was passed out for three days? The Gladers are really trying to get out right now?

"So," Janson continues, slamming his hand down on my shoulder and making me wince. "Now it's time for you to play your part." He leans down behind me, his face so close next to mine that I can smell his breath when he next speaks, whispering to me with mischief and iniquity dripping from the words.

"Let's go have some fun."