Chaotic Good

Fuck Them, It's A Free Country

"This," the agent said, showing them a large house near the brink of Beacon Hills Preserve. "Is where you all will be staying. We'll be leaving a hundred dollars in the mail once a week for a few months just to help you guys financially as you guys settle down, but you guys will definitely need some jobs."

"Thank you," Thomas said sincerely. He knew it wasn't like the FBI to do something like this, and he knew he should have been thinking about the debts they now owed the agency, but at this point, he just didn't care.

"Don't thank us yet. Water bills and the likes have been taken care of, but the plan ends after a year." After glancing at the restless Survivors, the agent finally offered them a smile. "I really hope you guys will be okay after all you went through."

He gave the agent a small smile in return. "I hope so too."

The insides of the house were pretty standard for a house as large as it was. There were plenty of bedrooms for the Survivors, a kitchen, a couple of bathrooms, a living room, and a dining room. There was also a backyard with a pool and some trees along with a garage.

"This is the life," Aris sighed as he flopped on a nearby bed. "Who'd have thought us sticks would be living like this a few months ago?" Frypan made a sound of agreement.

"This isn't gonna be the life you all think we're gonna have. We're gonna face demons and monsters beyond your wildest nightmares."

"Wait, what?"

"Tommy... what did you do?"

The teen in question put his hands up in an 'I'm-innocent' gesture. Newt didn't believe it for a second. "Nothing! The FBI, on the other hand..."

"Thomas..."

He sighed. "They signed us up for school."

Silence settled over the Survivors. School was... a subject they hadn't discussed yet. Nobody wanted to be around jacked slintheads who only ever thought about sex and homework, not to mention hormone-driven supernatural creatures.

Newt frowned. "Why? We survived just fine without school." The blond had a point. The Survivors didn't need school; in fact, they were better off without school that with. There was so much drama and death surrounding the high school—the telluric currents made sure of that.

Thomas sighed. "We don't need school. But our records do if we want decent jobs. And trust me, to support the number of people we have, we need those jobs."

The Survivors grumbled and groaned. Nobody wanted to go to school—they survived in the Glade just fine without it. Plus, they had missed a few years worth of schooling. It was going to be hard for them to catch up.

Except, Thomas thought, they didn't need to. He remembered the endless lessons right before W.C.K.D. plopped him in the maze.

The organisation needed the best of the best to study their brains, and they weren't going to have the results that they wanted if they put a bunch of stupid kids through the Trials. All of them would be dead and gone well before the scientists could even have a chance to study them.

No one here was stupid—they couldn't be if they wanted to survive, but W.C.K.D. had to make sure. So they taught the Gladers all the things they needed to know. All the formulas and numbers may have disappeared during the Swipe, but the mindset hadn't.

That was probably why they had adapted to the Glade as fast as they did. Thomas was willing to bet that because of that mindset, the Survivors could catch up to school in no time.

"Guys?" They all looked at him. "I know you don't remember this, but before the maze, W.C.K.D actually taught us everything we need to go on college-level courses. You guys just don't know it yet."