Damaged|| The Scorch Trials²/ Minho

|C.8|

"Anyway, out of all those people, only a fraction survived to be here today. I'm assuming you've figured this out by now, but many of the things that happen to you are solely for the purpose of judging and analyzing your responses. And yet it's not really an experiment as much as it is...constructing a blueprint. Stimulating the killzone and collecting the resultant patterns. Putting them all together to achieve the greatest breakthrough in the history of science and medicine."

"These situations inflicted upon you are called the Variables, and each one has been meticulously thought out. I'll explain more soon. And though I can't tell you everything at this time, it's vital that you know this much: these trials you're going through are for a very important cause. Continue to respond well to the Variables, continue to survive, and you'll be rewarded with the knowledge that you've played a part in saving the human race. And yourselves, of course."

Rat Man paused to draw expense.

"I represent a group called WICKED," Rat Man continued. "I know it sounds menacing, but it stands for World In Catastrophe, Killzone Experiment Department. Nothing menacing about it, despite what you may think. We exist for one purpose and one purpose only: to save the world from catastrophe. You here in this room are a vital part of what we plan to do. We have resources never known to any group of any kind in the history of civilization. Nearly unlimited money, unlimited human capital, and technology advanced beyond even the most clever man's wants and wishes. "

The word wicked has been a symbol, a motion, ironed on everyone and everything. From the day Blake had woken up with that piece of the paper wicked has branded their logo, their ownership. Their label a permanent reminder on her skin. Blake hated it with a cold tingle inside her.

"As you make your way through the Trials, you have seen and will continue to see evidence of this technology and the resources behind it. If I can tell you anything today, it is that you should never, ever believe your eyes. Or your mind, for that matter. This is why we did the demonstration with the hanging bodies and the bricked-up windows. All I will say is that sometimes what you see is not real, and sometimes what you do not see is real. We can manipulate your brains and nerve receptacles when necessary. I know this all sounds confusing and a little scary, perhaps."

The man slowly passed his eyes over every Glader in the room. "The Maze was a part of the Trials. Not one Variable was thrown at you that didn't serve a purpose for our collection of killzone patterns. Your escape was part of the Trials. Your battle against the Grievers. The murder of the boy Chuck. The supposed rescue and subsequent trip in the bus. All of it. Part of the Trials."

Blake watched that anger swell on Thomas's face at the mention of his friend Chuck. He'd half risen to his feet, Newt pulled him back down to the floor. Rat Man then quickly stood up from his wheeled chair, sending it sparring against the wall behind him. Then he placed both of his hands on the desk and leaned toward the Gladers.

"All of it has been part of the Trials, you understand? Phase One, to be exact. And we are still dangerously short of what we need. So we've had to up the ante, and now it's time for Phase Two. It's time for things to get difficult."

The room lapsed into silence. Blake was twisted with a sour rage. Like fire lashing across moss and grass, leaving it into ruin crisp. Taking the beautiful from a forest of evergreen. "Things weren't difficult before? You're a hilarious piece of work. Nothing but no good bolts. So what does this mean? More deaths? More blood!"

Rat Man waited for Blake to gain her composure. He then slowly lowered himself back into the chair "You may think, or it may seem, that our ways are harsh or we're merely testing your ability to survive. On the surface, the Maze Trial could be mistakenly classified that way. But I assure you―this is not merely about survival and the will to live. That's only part of this experiment. The bigger picture is something you won't understand until the very end.

"Sun flares have ravaged many parts of the earth. Also, a disease unlike any before known to man has been ravaging the earth's people―a disease called the Flare. For the first time, the governments of all nations―the surviving ones―are working together. They've combined forces to create WICKED―a group meant to fight the new problems of this world. You are a big part of that fight. And you'll have every incentive to work with us, because, sad to say, each one of you has already caught the virus."

He quickly held up his hands to cut off the rumblings that started. "Now, now! No need to worry―the Flare takes a while to set in and show symptoms. But at the end of these Trials, the cure will be your reward, and you'll never see the ... debilitating effects. Not many can afford the cure, you know."

Blake's thoughts traced back to one of the first memories she had. Of that man with that bloody knife, his eyes pure madness but also carried the look of uncaring. Her skin crawled at that thought of that happening to her or the other Gladers.

"But enough of this history lesson and time-wasting," Rat Man continued. "We know you now. All of you. It doesn't matter what I say or what's behind the mission of WICKED. You'll all do whatever it takes. Of this, we have no doubt. And by doing what we ask, you'll save yourselves by getting the very cure so many people desperately want."

Blake heard Minho groan causing Thomas shushed him before he could make a smart remark.

Rat Man looked down at the messy stack of papers lying in the open folder, picked up a loose piece of it. "Phase Two. The Scorch Trials. It officially begins tomorrow morning at six o'clock. You'll enter this room, and in the wall behind me, you will find a Flat Trans. To your eyes, the Flat Trans will appear as a shimmering wall of gray. Each of you must step through it by five minutes after the hour. So again, it opens at six o'clock and closes five minutes after that. Do you understand?"

Blake started at the Rat Man with a mix of hatred and cold shivering venom. Her arms stayed crossed over her chest as no one answered.

"I'm quite certain you can all hear," Rat Man said. "Do ... you ... under ... stand?"

Blake felt like mocking him but instead held her tongue watching as some people nodding or murmured quiet yeahs and yeses.

"Good." Rat Man picked up another piece of paper and turned it over. "At that point, the Scorch Trials will have begun. The rules are very simple. Find your way to open-air, then head due north for one hundred miles. Make it to the safe haven within two weeks' time and you'll have completed Phase Two. At that point, and only at that point, you'll be cured of the Flare. That's exactly two weeks―starting the second you step through the Trans. If you don't make it, eventually you'll end up dead."