In my Blood

CHAPTER 32 - Capture

"N-No... s-stop," I utter, groaning with every breath. I can gradually feel the pain fading away, draining down the rest of my body, until I can feel my arms again. Then my torso, then my legs. My mouth doesn't sting as I take raspy breaths, and I can feel the soldiers' hands wrapped around my ankles while they carry me closer to a landed Berg. 

"L-Let... go of... me!" I snap, struggling against their grasps. "Let go of me!"

I manage to wriggle my leg free from one soldier, kicking him in his face. He stumbles backwards, but the others still have a firm hold. They carry me over close to the Berg, the soldiers dropping me down roughly on the ground. I see the others being carried, attempting to fight too. I see Minho spit in the face of one of the soldiers, a look of hatred filling his face, while Newt is shoved to the floor beside me. I place my hand on his shoulders while he coughs weakly, giving each other fearful looks. 

"Everyone, kneel on the floor!" a voice commands. I look to my left, and see Janson striding towards us with an angry expression. "Now! Kneel!" 

We all do as we're told, shakily getting up on our knees in a straight line. I grab tightly onto Newt's hand, lacing my fingers between his. Our hands stop shaking. A soldier with a small scanning device begins to grab the back of people's necks, calling out their numbers. B4. B19. A6. That's all we are now. Numbers. 

I notice Vince being held by two WICKED soldiers, looking dejected. This is it. It's all over now. 

"Where's Thomas?" Janson asks with a snap. I glance around, smirking when I realise he must've escaped. 

"Right here."

I turn my head to the right, sighing loudly when I see Thomas walking, with his hands up, towards Janson. A soldier fiercely grabs hold of him, shoving him forward. 

"Why would he do that?" I whisper to Newt. "He was safe. He could've gone."

"It's Thomas. Of course he wouldn't do the sensible thing," he mutters in reply. 

"Wait..." I pause, looking around. "Where's Teresa?"

The soldier pushes Thomas so he's face-to-face with Janson. Janson smiles, and puts an arm on the boy's shoulder coldly. The smile immediately disappears, and he grits his teeth together and punches Thomas right in the stomach, causing him to keel over with a moan. 

"Get him in line," Janson orders. The soldiers push Thomas so he's kneeling down next to Minho. Everyone turns to face him. 

"Why didn't you run?" Fry asks quietly. 

Thomas shakes his head with a defeated look. "I'm tired of running."

I squeeze tighter onto Newt's hand. He gently traces a circle with his thumb onto my skin, and in that moment, I just want to savour his touch. It might be the last time I feel his hand against mine in a long time... 

Janson looks to the two of us with an amused expression, his cold grey eyes showing the hint of intriguement. "Well, how sweet. Yes, the brain patterns we got from the two of you were particularly interesting. It just shows how weak and dependable the human brain can be. But Newt, you'd know all about what it's like being weak, wouldn't you?" 

Newt shakes with anger, his fingers squeezing even tighter onto mine. What could Janson possibly mean by that? He begins to turn away. 

"You're the weak one," I snap through gritted teeth. Janson pauses. "Cowering behind your screens as you watch us suffer in a Maze, day after day."

"Oh, (y/n). Aren't you forgetting? You were the one who did that," he says patronisingly as he turns around to face me once more. "I couldn't prise you away from those computers; even the day when Newt here–"

"Shut up," Newt growls. Janson widen his eyes in a mocking expression.

"What, you haven't told her?" he smirks. I look to Newt in confusion, but he just glares at Janson with the most hateful expression I've ever seen anyone wear. 

"Told me what?" I whisper to him. He doesn't reply, and breaks the glare with Janson to look at the floor with an expression of intense hatred; guilt and shame washing over his glossy brown eyes. 

The deafening noise of a flying Berg ends the silence, and then it comes into view from behind a mountain in the distance. I hold my breath as it nears the camp, blowing sand into the air as it lands. 

"Here she is now," Janson announces, walking to the Berg.

Who's she? 

The Berg door opens. And standing on the other side, with a blank and unreadable expression, is Teresa.