SONDER (IV): tmr thomas

019: I should sing

Michelle 19

We get dressed in the morning into new clothes that Jorge bought us. I'm surprised that they are nicer than the ones WICKED provided us with. Not that I spent a ton of time shopping, but the fabric isn't itchy finally. I never knew jeans and a red t-shirt could be so nice.

When Leo gets dressed, she keeps looking up and smiling at me. It's weird to see her in a pattern that isn't plaid. In a blue striped long-sleeve and black tights, she looks more like herself than she ever has before. I am surprised that I even notice, or care. Clothing doesn't really matter, right?

It was too late to go to Hans last night. Jorge finally found the guy in the middle of the night, when it was too dangerous to go. Now, bright and early, we are packed inside cabs. This time, Leo insisted on traveling with me. Now, its just us Gladers all trapped inside a taxi, driving through Denver to Hans.

"Do you think Dawn is right?" Thomas asks, trying to hide his nervousness.

Minho shakes his head. "She's just, I don't know, paranoid. You know, she's not quite, herself."

Leo stiffens beside me. I just roll my eyes. There is no use denying that Dawn is going nuts. Even if she has a point with the whole Ella thing, this Hans guy is apparently an expert. WICKED wouldn't be going after him if he was just going to Ella us.

We pull up to his house, getting out of the cab. Leo leans in next to me while Thomas pays the driver.

"Thanks for choosing me," she tells me.

I shrug, although I smile. "Well, I need the chip out too, right?"

She nods. I wonder if she can read through my face that I haven't ever really cared about the meddling WICKED has done inside my skull. Maybe a life with Gally and the Right Arm would be better than a life as a fugitive, but at least here I have Leo. And Dawn, even if she is crazy. If there is anything I can handle, it's violent people who are going nuts. Calming Dawn will be easier than calming Doug. Which, I did, by the way.

We walk up the stairs to a metal door. The other half of our party is already heading inside, so we quickly follow after them.

The six of us try to squeeze on a tiny couch, but it doesn't work. We manage to get Minho, Thomas, and Leo on the cushions, while Jay and Sheil both take an arm. I sit on the floor in front of them.

"My lap is open for customers," Jay winks at me.

Minho glares at the boy. He turns to me. "If you want me to kill him, just say the words Mich. I'm ready to go."

Jay laughs, playfully kicking Minho's leg (although, the movement looks a bit harsh).

"I'll stand, thanks," I roll my eyes at the pair of them.

The scientist man, Hans, is whispering to Brenda and Jorge over in a corner. Minho keeps chatting with Thomas, so I can't make out the conversation across the room. Eventually, Hans's feet drag across the shagged carpet over to us. He kneels down in front of Thomas, analysing his face.

"He looks unimportant," Hans tosses, glancing over his shoulder.

I stifle a laugh.

"So, implants in all of you?" Hans asks, his large eyes peering around the group. He rubs the back of his balding head. "There are so many of you. Two I could handle. Six? It'll take time."