𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗨𝗦, thomas (tmr)

Chapter Twenty Nine

"What do you think they're gonna do with us?" Newt suddenly asked aloud, intrigue seeping into his tone more than anything else.

"Maybe they'll make us work here." Fry suggested.

"Or become like those soldiers." Winston offered up, and Clara shivered at the possibility.

It was then that the door swung open. Clara rocketed up immediately, desperate for answers, and found herself met with the face of a strange looking man.

He smiled down at her creepily, his sharp features looking threatening and his greying hair telling the girl that he was getting on in age. Clara didn't notice Thomas' glare on the man as he stood beside her.

"You kids all okay?"

There was an awkward silence in which the Gladers all looked at one another. It was the dumbest question they had heard in a long while.

"Sorry about all of this, we had a little bit of a problem."

"Sorry," Clara's tone gave off the impression she wasn't sorry - which she wasn't - but she continued anyway. "Who are you exactly?"

"I'm the reason you're all alive."

Clara had to stop herself from laughing. The other Gladers merely watched him, dumbfounded that he thought for a single second his input into their survival was greater than anything they battled themselves in the Maze.

"And I want to keep you that way, so please, follow me. We'll get you all squared away."

He walked them through the warehouse, past loud electrical components and many workers busying themselves away, seemingly intent on a specific location. Clara couldn't help but wonder what was involved in being 'squared away' as it sounded like they were going to be given trackers and put into prison cells.

Or maybe that was just the girl's pessimistic thoughts.

"My name is Mr Janson, I run this place. It's a safe place - a haven - from the terrors of the outside. But you kids should think of it as a home between homes."

"We're going home?" Thomas' question jolted her from her spiralling.

Janson's face twisted and he shrugged slightly, pointing up to the ceiling where a pipe was sparking, to tell them to avoid it.

"Sort of. Unfortunately, there won't be anything left of where your real homes are, but there is a place for you. Away from the Scorch, where WCKD can never find you again. That sound good?"

"It sounds like pure bliss." The girl muttered in reply.

"Why are you doing this for us?" Minho asked, sharing a glance with a wary looking Newt.

"The world is in a dangerous situation, we're all barely hanging on. You kids being able to survive the Flare is humanity's best chance of not dying out. You may have also known it makes you a target."

Janson led them up to a sliding door, where Clara caught a glimpse of white medical corridors behind it. It was a vast difference from the metallic, warehouse feel of where they were currently.

"Behind here is the start of the rest of your lives. And firstly, we need to do something about that awful smell."

Rude.

Janson wasn't wrong. The Gladers smelled terrible. Being offered a warm shower was the nicest thing Clara had experienced in a while; allowing herself to forget about all the tiring things weighing on her mind and simply just enjoy the water.

She could hear her friends chattering away in the distance: she could tell they were enjoying the warm wash as much as she was. But the loudest thing currently was the silence in the stall beside her.