Six Feet Under.

chapter seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: STEALING A KEYCARD

     "Alice." Thomas and Layla glanced at each other as Janson read out the names for the day—the names of the kids who would be forced to be stuck in between life and death. The names of people who were told they would be going to a safe haven, but the duo knew better. "Barry. Walt. Edgar. Samantha."

     "I wanna know what's through that door." Thomas spoke in a low voice, catching the attention of the other Gladers around the lunch table that they sat at in the cafeteria. Layla's eyes fell on him. He was the main focus of their plan, because he could do something reckless and make it look completely natural—unlike Layla. It was hilariously perfect.

     Newt rose a brow at the dark haired boy, "now, we've been over this. You said they were covered up, so you don't know what you saw." The others had of course been informed about the horrible sight that Layla and Thomas witnessed the night before. It was only natural for them to be sceptical, too. "It could've been anything under there."

     "Lay and I know exactly what we saw." Thomas was quick to deny the statement, "they were bodies."

     Layla took a brief second to contemplate the new nickname, before letting it slide.

     "There were machines attached to them that were reading their vitals, Newt." Layla leaned over the table to see Newt better, "we know there's something going on here."

     Thomas nodded, "yeah, Aris said they bring in a new batch every night."

     Minho furrowed his brows in confusion. "Who the hell is Aris?" He questioned, and Thomas quickly pointed off into the distance, causing the others to follow his line of sight. They all saw Aris, who sat at his table alone as he inspected the food he was given, a hood over his head. "Well," Minho mumbled, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "I'm sold."

     "And last but not least, David." Janson finally finished reading off the list of names, and a few of the teens around the room clapped while others lowered their heads in disappointment. "Thank you for your attention. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

     Layla watched as the teens at the front followed a guard, who then opened up a door that they weren't allowed to cross unless they were called up—it was the only way.

     As the teens began to make their way through, Thomas and Layla made eye contact once more, and the girl nodded to the boy. A silent conversation passed between them, and the squint of her eyes told him: now.

     Newt, completely unaware of the two's plan, leaned in closer to them. "Okay," he said quietly, "until we know anything for certain, we should just keep our heads down and try not to draw any attention to ourselves, all right?" He made a point to send them knowing looks.

     Layla hummed softly, "all right, fine." She feigned innocent and compliance. The boy seemed pleased with her answer, but she wasn't finished. "But I can't make any promises that Thomas will listen."

     Thomas then loudly slammed his hands on the table before getting up and making a beeline to the door.

     "See."

     Newt glanced at her with wide eyes, "what is he doing?"

     "He's definitely drawing attention to himself." Layla sighed softly, leaning her chin into the palm of her hand. The Gladers watched as Thomas attempted to discreetly walk through the doors, only to be stopped by a guard.

     The two conversed for a moment before Thomas attempted to walk through once more, only to be pushed back. Layla furrowed her brows as both of their expressions seemed to grow more angry, before the guard shoved a finger into Thomas' chest with a glare.