What If | tmr, newt ✓

Chapter 31

The successive two days went relatively normally in comparison to recent events. Well, if you can discount Thomas acting all strange and Gally going missing.

Nevertheless, on the third day after the Gathering, I wake up just before the sun hits the Glade.

At least, that's what it looked like at first.

Sitting bolt upright, on closer inspection I can see that the sun didn't plan on rising at all this morning. It was gone. Missing. Like it had been stolen from its rightful place in the sky, leaving behind only a slab of dull, grey slate. For the millionth time since arriving in this wretched place, I questioned everything: I had yet another thing to add to my growing list of what I deemed impossible.

I get up in search of familiar faces, and I know I'd be a terrible judge of the time if it weren't for the open doors and the watch strapped around my wrist. Newt and Alby - who had recovered remarkably - were standing silently and solemnly by the side of the Box, a few boys scattered around them having animated discussions of their own.

"What's happening?" I say drowsily, rubbing my eyes and huddling close to Newt.

"It's the Box," Alby growls, as Newt plays with my hair. "That shuck piece of klunk hasn't arrived with supplies. That, and - if you hadn't noticed - the sun has disappeared."

Listening to Alby makes me tense up. He was occasionally grouchy before the Changing - but his voice now had undertones of mildly threatening anger. I decide not to say anything, knowing full well that he saw me in his memories and probably hated my guts.

I just wish I knew what he saw to make him despise me so much.

***

When the girl woke up, chaos erupted.

I can hear the group of boys outside the front door of the Homestead, debating among themselves in loud voices and asking about the situation.

As soon as her eyes flit open, I took the steps downstairs two at a time, rushing for water and to tell someone what had happened. Unfortunately, the only one around who wasn't a Med-jack was Chuck, so word got out pretty quickly - he didn't even go straight to Alby and Newt like I asked. Frustrating.

Heading back upstairs, I fling open the door and feel my eyes widen in horror. "Jeff, where is she?"

The Med-jack is leaning against the wall for support, looking like he's in a lot of pain. No time to question. "Jumped out the- window," he says between breaths. I let out a sharp breath of annoyance, mind racing as I hurl myself back down the stairs at top speed. It's a good thing I'm in shape, or I'd have run out of energy a long time ago.

I manage to push my way through the unruly gaggle outside, almost like Moses parting the Red Sea. How do I remember that? I have no idea. This memory loss thing was baffling.

The sky above me is still a startling ashen slab when I run into Alby and Newt at the back of the crowd. "It's the girl," I say, out of breath. "She's-"

"Yeah, we know, she's awake," Alby grumbles.

I let out a frustrated sigh. "Yes, but that's not the point. She climbed out the window."

"Oh for shucks sake," Alby says, and Newt and I share a nervous glance.

"Well, if nobody saw her, she either went into the bloody Maze itself or into the Deadheads. But the Doors are about to close, so we aren't risking it. We should search the Deadheads," Newt concludes.

"Good that," the leader mutters. "What's the time? Maybe if she went into the Maze she won't have gotten far and we can bring her back before the Doors close."

I look down at my watch. Read the time. Squint. Rub my eyes. Read it again. "Not possible," I say. "Newt, don't you have the time as-"

"Yeah, darling. I'm seeing what you're seeing."

I read the time once more for good measure: 4:17. Another thing I thought to be impossible. Because the Doors close at four o'clock, every day.

Staring an alarmed looking Alby straight in the eye, it's like he reads my mind. He turns and takes off at a run into the woods, Newt following and grabbing my arm to bring me with them.

***

Alby grabs Thomas's shirt with a surprising ferocity. "The Walls, you shuck. The Doors. They didn't close tonight."

I can only watch hopelessly as Teresa is ordered to the Slammer. Whilst still in close proximity to him, she keeps her gaze trained on Thomas, eyes filled with sadness. But when she cannot turn to look at him, she spots me standing in the shadows and her eyes widen, filling with shock. Perhaps nobody else noticed. But I did. And it sends a shiver down my spine despite the mild evening.

The evening after that was spent in a bustle of confusion and barking orders. What Teresa had said echoed in my mind: The Ending. Two words had never sounded so terrifyingly straight-forward.

As the Builders started barricading windows of the Homestead, I knew I wasn't needed and cautiously headed over to the Slammer, taking care not to be seen making the trip.

"Teresa?" I ask, and the girl lifts her head from where she was curled into a ball. I dread to think of the people thrown in this jail, and all the reasons why. Me, for being a mistake. Ben, for going mad. Thomas, for breaking the rules. And now Teresa. For existing.

"Cassia," she says softly. Confused, I look behind me expecting to see someone else standing there.

"Me?"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

I tilt my head slightly to the side. "No, Teresa. It's not. My name is Adalyn."

She creases her brows, a deep frown that disturbs her beautiful features. "Then-" She pauses, then continues quietly. "I know you."

"Me too," I reply, making her look right at me. Her eyes are just like mine. "I know it sounds crazy - we aren't supposed to have our memories and all - but I remember you. Just you."

She looks at me a while longer before sighing and examining the ground.

"I should probably go help," I say. "I- I'm sorry they locked you in there. At least you'll be safe." It was a lame attempt at an apology to my sister who was clearly frightened and in dire need of my help. But she hadn't mentioned anything about us being related, just that she knows me, so I didn't want to alarm her.

I say a quick, saddening goodbye and make my way to the Homestead. Nearly half an hour later, I sit with my back against the wall, hand held tight in Newt's, and listen as the Maze comes to life with horrifying screeches. I close my eyes, tilt my head back, and feel the cold, silent tears run down my face like semi-frozen rivers.