⚠contains maze runner SPOILERS⚠
Summary: After reuniting with Gally, the group makes a plan to enter WCKD in the attempt to find Minho and the other immunes.
Warnings: Violence, cursing
You all sit around a raging fire as Thomas explains his plan. To your right, Newt and Fry are roasting a dozen or so skewers of meat over the flames, and to your left, is Gally. You are already snuggled into his side, his arm around you protectively.
“All we have to do is get into WCKD,” Thomas says to the group at large, “Gally, do you have any more uniforms?”
“Yup” Gally grunts, “should have enough for everyone.”
“Good,” Thomas responds, “once we’re inside, we shouldn’t have a problem finding Minho and the other immunes.”
“You’ll need a keycard,” someone says from the group. Your eyes try to find them, but they are lost in the crowd. “Any room of importance inside WCKD requires one to enter.” Thomas nods thoughtfully.
“You wouldn’t happen to have one of those too, would you Gally?”
The next day you, Newt, Thomas, and a handful of rebels from Gally’s group crouch outside of WCKD’s front doors, waiting. You had put up a fight when Thomas had separated you from Gally, but had insisted that he was needed elsewhere.
“You’ll be reunited again in a few hours,” Thomas promised, but you still had your doubts. After the long months apart, you didn’t want to part from him for another moment.
Finally, the two guards stationed outside turn, and walk into the building, giving you your chance. “C’mon,” Thomas whispers, “we only have a minute or so until the next rotation.” After a cautious glance, you spring forward, heading for the door. The group follows, and after reaching the door, you all straighten up and walk in. Two from your group stay outside, replacing the guards that had just left. As you head into the building, two more guards pass you, tipping their heads.
“Morning”. You nod in response. As they exit, you can hear them talking to the rebels outside. “I thought we were supposed to be stationed here next?”
“Harry, don’t argue, I need a break anyway.” By the time you reach the stairs, the two guards had reentered through the doors, and were walking towards the elevator on the other side of the room. Quickly, you speed up the stairs.
Your group wanders for a while, but most of the hallways are empty. The few guards you do pass, walk in groups of three or four.
“Do these guys never travel alone?” You ask Thomas, keeping your voice low.
“I guess not,” Thomas responds, “maybe we should just try the next group we see.” As we turn the next corner, you spot two guards, standing stiffly by a sliding door. Thomas ushers the group back quickly. “I hope you’re all ready, because we have an opportunity.” Members of the group nod, including you and Newt. “Okay, let’s go.”
You turn the corner casually, walking two-by-two. As you approach the guards, they turn, and each gives a slight nod. Before they can face forward again, Thomas pounces and the rest of you follow. Newt and another taller boy clamp their hands over the guards mouths while Thomas whacks each of them in turn, on the side of the head. Quietly, you carry them back around the corner, stuffing them into an unlocked storage room. Before closing the door, you rummage through their pockets, producing a keycard apiece. Passing one back to Thomas, you slide the other into your own pocket.
“We’ve got to go,” you say in a harsh whisper, closing the door silently. The others nod. The remaining two rebels from Gally’s group take the places of the guards.
“When you’re able to break away, head back to the rendezvous point we discussed earlier. If we aren’t back in a couple of hours, head back to the camp without us. We can find a way back on our own.” The rebels nod, straightening their stances by the door.
You, Newt, and Thomas walk stiffly together, rounding sharp corners and peeking into open doorways. It isn’t until you hear a sharp command echo from an opening door up ahead that you get any clue to where the immunes could be.
“If I hear another sound-” a taller guard threatens, his voice deep and commanding, “no one’s eating tonight.” He slams the door behind him, sharply turning to face you. “What are you looking at?!” He asks harshly.
“We’re just, nothing,” he spits, a scowl appearing on his face, “go.” You nod, ushering the others down a hallway to your right. “Newbies,” you hear the man say from behind you.
You linger in the hallway for a few moments, until the sound of the man’s boots have disappeared down the hallway. Then, you jog to the door. Slipping the keycard out of your pocket, you unlock the door, wincing as the doors squeak as they open. Stepping into the dimly-lit room, dozens of meek, gaunt faces greet you. Quickly, you flip up your helmet, smiling at the room of young immunes.
“Don’t worry, we’re here to help.”
