Subject A250: The Fangirl (COMPLETED)

Six: Okay? Okay.

After lunch, Trace was sent to work in the fields with Thomas and Newt. Apparently Zart was the Keeper of the Track-Hoes, so she'd figured out that the jobs they all had must have been based on the movie.

Which meant Ben was a runner.

And it was Thomas' day to work as a Track-hoe.

Needless to say, Trace was on edge.

Thomas had been oddly quiet for a while, but it was easy to see when he was deep in thought.

And Thomas was definitely deep in thought.

Trace knew it was only a matter of time before he started asking questions. It was just what Thomas did. That's all he did; he asked questions and ran. Sometimes both at the same time.

So Trace kept an eye on him, knowing that it was only a matter of moments before he asked that question she hated so much.

"Has anyone tried climbing to the top?"

Whoomp, there it is.

"Tried it. The ivy doesn't go all the way to the top."

It goes high enough. Too high, even, Trace thought to herself, unable to forget every bitter feeling she'd felt while reading The Death Cure. She shuddered and tried to play along anyway.

She looked at the walls around her. This time, Newt was right. The ivy didn't go all the way to the top. Maybe her situation was more like the books then.

"And besides, where are you gonna go from there?" Newt continued.

Along. You're going to go along. You're going to build a shucking ladder, climb the walls, climb across them and find your way to freedom.

Trace said nothing, but made a weird grunting sound instead in her effort to contain herself. Zart was the only one to hear, and gave her that classic judgmental look.

He'd be dead soon anyway, she told herself.

"And what about the box-"

"No, we tried that. The box won't go back down with someone in it."

Trace's mind drifted to the half-shank in the Deadheads. She wondered if he even existed in this weird hybrid book/movie world she was apparently living in.

"Okay, what if we-"

Trace couldn't stop herself this time. It was one of her favourite Newt lines.

"No, we tried it, alright? Twice," she said, speaking in perfect unison with Newt. He turned to look at her with such an alarmed expression that for a second Trace thought she'd just read out page 250. It was that level of alarm.

"How did you-" he began.

"All right, Thomas?" Trace continued, unable to stop herself now. "Trust me. Anything you think of, we've already tried. The only way out of here is through the maze."

Newt looked as if he might faint at any moment, and Zart looked just as confused as always. Thomas, being his usual self, just wanted more answers.

"How about if we-"

"Thomas, look. If you want to be helpful, go dig us up some more fertiliser. Here."

Newt ran his fingers through his hair, exasperated, apparently having had enough of both Thomas and Trace. He threw Thomas the empty bucket.

"I volunteer!" Trace yelled desperately, before she could stop herself.

"What in the bloody-"

"I volunteer as tribute," Trace stated dramatically, stepping forward with a look she hoped was somewhat intense and meaningful.

"What does that even-"

"I'm going with Thomas."

"No you're bloody not. I wouldn't trust you to accompany a spoon into the Deadheads, let alone another human being."

"I think you'll find that a spoon is exactly what my company involves, Newt."

"Bloody- what does that mean?"

"It means I'm going with Thomas."

"You're not."

"I- I probably am."

"You're definitely not."

"You're definitely Newt."

Newt paused, but only to give her a look of disbelief before continuing.

"Give me one good reason why I should send you off with him when one person is enough to do the job."

Trace was bad at arguing, and becoming increasingly desperate by the second. It wasn't a good combination. She panicked.

"I enjoy fertiliser."

Zart blinked.

"You what?"

"I...enjoy fertiliser. I enjoy collecting it. I plan to teach Thomas to enjoy it too."

Newt and Zart shared a look. It lasted for so long that Trace almost shipped them.

Almost.

Zart turned to Trace, doing his best to hide a smile. 

"I- fine. Fine. Go help the Greenie collect the fertiliser, you jacked-up shank. Fine."

"Okay?" Trace tried.

"Okay!" Zart raised his hands, exasperated.

Thomas had been silently watching the whole exchange, and Trace turned to follow him into the woods, but not before gliding past Zart at a distance just close enough for him to hear her whisper in his ear.

"Maybe okay can be our always."