[2] Remember Me ➝ The Maze Runner ✓

*Janson*

*Janson*

I gulped, trying to keep my breathing steady. I recognised the voice as soon as the harsh snarl pulsed through the speaker.

"It's him..." I whispered in a strangled tone. Axel's eyes were wide, glazed. Azela looked confused.

"Janson..." he said in a strangely steady voice. "His name is Janson. And he's responsible for this." His tone turned gritty, fists clenched at his sides.

Kyle overheard and instantly called for back-up. Three soldiers donning similar attire appeared a moment later, saluting in unison.

"Sir."

"Find this man. Shut him up," he barked as Janson continued snivelling into the microphone.

"Don't you see? We're trying to save the world... find a cure. We're not the bad guys. You," he hissed sharply, "are the bad guys. With your... abilities..."

I stood motionless, listening to his droning. The others were doing the same, staring transfixed at the wall so as not to give away their identity. As long as Janson didn't give away who Group C was...

"You could kill everyone in this building if you wanted... you're the threat. Not me. Not us. Not WICKED. But you..." Then he chuckled, and I felt my knees buckle. I leaned against the wall. He was going to say our names. He was going to tell everyone.

"The real enemies are your so called friends... The real enemies are stood right in front of you... The real enemies are..."

There was a loud clang and the barking shout of one of the soldiers. Janson still had his hand on the microphone.

"Ha! You think taking me will solve this little problem? Do you know the truth about your little friends down there? About their powers..."

"Hands behind your back, NOW!"

Then the speaker fell dead.

There was a prominent silence before we all stirred, blinking as if emerging from a trance.

"What... what was he talking about?" Someone asked in a perturbed voice. The other gladers began muttering, glancing about warily, anxiously.

I stared blankly at the ground. They were going to find out.

"They don't know," Axel whispered close to my ear.

"No, but they'll find out somehow."

Azela's eyes were glassy with tears. She was obviously extremely confused, and my heart twanged in sympathy. She was just as clueless as the gladers in some ways.

I quickly placed a hand on her shoulder. "We'll be fine."

She nodded, impatiently wiping her eyes. "Who was that man?"

"He's the one who removed our memories. In fact, he's probably responsible for all of this," I murmured, feeling anger ripple through my chest.

The door that the three guards had entered suddenly flung open, and two of the stern-faced men staggered out with Janson trailing between them. They held his wrists in an iron grip; their knuckles were white with pressure.

Janson snorted, his glasses slipping farther down his nose. His dark hair flopped over his weasel-like face, greasy and tangled. His skin was pocked with wrinkles, putting his age somewhere around fifty. Thin lips were pressed tightly together, until he drew them back into a grim smile.

"Ah, it's nice to see you again," Janson snivelled, his voice gravelly and low. His soulless eyes flickered between the three of us, and I felt a sudden surge of hatred.