Chapter Eighteen

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Newt woke Claire just as the helicopter was making its descent. They landed about fifty yards in front of a large building. As soon as they landed a group of soldiers came and opened the door. 

"Come on, kids," the man urged. "We got an emergency, we gotta go." 

"Everyone move," Newt ordered the group, springing them into action. 

Winston and Teresa climbed out first, followed by Frypan, Tim and Clint. Claire and Jack were next with Newt right behind them. Minho stayed behind to wake up Thomas, who was somehow still out cold. 

As the Gladers ran across the platform toward the building they noticed soldiers around them firing their guns out into the desert. They couldn't make out the figures trying to attack them, all they could see were figures clumsily stumbling down the large sand hill toward them. But instead of dwelling on it, the Gladers just sprinted through the large metal doors into the safety the building had to offer. 

The doors closed, leaving the Gladers to look around them. They were in what looked like a large factory/garage type of area. Workers and soldiers were running around, alarms were blaring. 

Where were they? 

*************** 

The teens were led to another room. 

"Hurry, this way," the soldier said urgently as he held open the door to the room. "Get inside." 

"What's going on out there?" Thomas asked as soon as they all piled inside the dark room. 

"Nothing we can't handle," the man said, closing the door. 

Thomas tried to turn the large nob but it wouldn't budge. 

"Hey, let us out!" he shouted as he banged on the door. 

Suddenly the lights turned on, revealing a large room that was pretty bare apart from some long tables and sacks lined up along the walls. At the center was a long table piled with food, the Gladers all stared at it in mouth-watering awe. So much had happened, even in just the past twenty-four hours alone, none of them even realized how hungry they were until now. Yet they still hesitate. They didn't know who these people were, taking food from them might not be the wisest move, despite how delicious it looked. 

"Dibs on the rice," Frypan said, breaking the silence. 

In that instant, everyone forgot about their fears. Any reserves they may have had about eating it vanished and they all dug in. Newt and Jack each grabbed a turkey leg, Minho chugged a jug of water, Claire stuffed her face with bread. Frypan, true to his word, piled his plate with rice. 

"This is way better than Frypan's slob," Winston said, his mouth full. 

Teresa took a handful of rice and tossed it in Winston's direction, but most of it ended up landing on Newt instead. Then Claire ripped of a piece of her bread and playfully threw it at Teresa. Before they knew it, a food fight had broken out. The Gladers were throwing food at each other and still stuffing their faces at the same time. Frypan screamed at them to spare the rice. 

For just a moment, as the food was being thrown across the room, the teens forgot about all the pain they had gone through to get here. For a moment, they were just happy. 

************** 

Once the teens were done stuffing their faces they laid about the room, their stomachs more full than they could ever remember in their lives. Jack sat at the table with his head down. Minho and Tim laid across the tables, Winston and Clint were on the floor. Frypan, Newt, Claire, Thomas and Teresa sat down on the sacks. 

Newt had an arm around Claire while she rested her head on his shoulder. Thomas was a bit taken aback by the display of affection, until he remembered Minho said that there was something going on between them back in the Glade. 

Good for them, he thought. 

"I don't know who these guys are, but they can cook," Frypan declared, taking one more bit of the rice. 

"But who are they really?" Teresa questioned. "I mean, we don't know anything about them." 

"Well we know they're no friends of WCKD," Newt pointed out. 

"That's good enough for me," Minho said, sitting up. "You guys think too much. We're free, enjoy it." 

Thomas knew Minho was right. These people helped them, rescued them, took them in, gave them food. Who knows what could have happened to them if they had just left the WCKD facility having no idea where to go next. They could have been found by some not so friendly people, or by whatever had tried to attack them after the helicopter landed. 

But Thomas still couldn't shake his suspicions. 

Suddenly the door clicked open. The teens all stood up and gathered around so that they could face whoever was coming in. They were greeted by a middle-aged man with greying dark hair and wearing a black leather jacket. 

"You kids doing alright?" he asked. "Sorry about all the fuss, we had ourselves a bit of a swarm. But your safe now, the threat has passed." 

"Who are you?" Thomas asked. 

"I'm the reason you're all still alive," the man said. "Follow me." 

The teens all looked at each other and hesitated. Then they turned to Newt for guidance. The former Second-in-Command of the Glade nodded and motioned everyone to follow the man. 

"You can call me Mr. Janson," the man said as he led the teens through the warehouse. "I run this facility. For us it is a sanctuary, safe from the horrors of the outside world. For you, you should think of it as a wait station, a home between homes." 

"You're saying you can take us home?" Thomas said hopefully. 

"A home of sorts," Janson replied. "Sadly there wouldn't be much left of wherever you came from, but we do have a place for you. Somewhere safe, where WCKD will never find you again. How does that sound?" 

It sounds almost too good to be true, Claire thought to herself. 

"Why are you helping us?" Minho asked. 

"Let's just say the world is in a rather precarious position," Janson answered. "The fact that you kids can survive the Flare virus makes you the best chance of humanity's continued existence. Unfortunately it also makes you a target, as I'm sure you've noticed." 

He had no idea. 

"Through this door, is the beginning of your new lives," Janson continued as he swiped his key card to open the door and reveal a long hallway. "Now let's do something about that smell." 

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