2 years ago, they sent up a girl and a gun. The girl was quiet, all dark eyes and dark hair, cut so it brushed her cheeks and stuck up in odd directions when dry, but it was wet, clinging to her cheeks, and there was water in her lungs. She was lying flat against the cold metal grate of a cage that rattled beneath her. Her clothes were cold and stuck to her, so she curled up into a small ball in the corner of the cage, coughing roughly until her lungs felt as though they were on fire. Her breath was coming in shuddering gasps for almost an entire minute before she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and forced herself to breath normally, to assess her situation. There was nothing around her but crates and piles of gardening equipment, she wasn't sure what the crates were for, why she was even here, or who she was, but the feeling in her gut told her to run as far away as she could from this place. There was something beside her, cold and metallic and she held it close. It was heavy and its weight triggered something in her stomach twinged before she realised what it was and she dropped it like it had burned her. A gun. A fucking gun.
The cage clattered to a stop and she felt her breath hitch in her throat, but she tried with all of her will, to stay as still and as blank as possible. She was bathed in a deep, crimson light, followed by a green one, before bright, natural sunlight streamed into the cage as the doors were lifted open with a groan. She stared at the wall in front of her, bare toes curling nervously into the wire of the floor, not looking at the faces of boys peering down at her. It was barely a moment before was a pair of boots in front of her, attached to a boy, who leaned down to bark at her.
"Get up, Greenie. Its just day one." His voice was rough, but he waited. She remained impassive and small, hands wrapped around her knees. He grabbed the front of her shirt, lifting her up in one movement, her hands hung limply by her sides, toes barely grazing the bottom of cage. She looked at him and he stared back, chocolate eyes looking into honey ones, and remained impassive, voiceless, toes wiggling, trying to reach the grate below her. He sneered at her, before looking her up and down, evaluating and realising in the one movement, and promptly dropping her. She landed, rather than crumpling, on her feet, staring up at him, almost a foot shorter, gaze shallow despite her constant evaluation of the situation. He huffed and squared his shoulders.
"You gonna help me or not?" He demanded, reaching for a crate, passing it to one of the boys above them. The girl quickly bobbed down, picking up the gun and tucking it into the back of her waistband, before hefting up a stack of tools. It was solid work, only a few minutes, which left some boys to take supplies up to whatever sort of camp setup they had, while the others milled around the edge of the cage, waiting for the girl.
Once the supplies had been lifted up, she scrambled up, surrounded by the boys, watching her. She didn't speak a word, merely avoiding their eyes and gazing around at her surroundings. There were walls, that was the first thing she noted, walls taller than she had ever seen, not that she could remember anything; tall, concrete, built like a fortress. To her left, large, green expanses of forest, with small camps and buildings with domesticated farm animals scattered about. The boys were mocking her, jeering and leering but the girl just waited for some sort of signal.
The boy who had shouted at her in the cage, they called him Gally, quieted the boys, but a taller, dark skinned boy joined them. The girl saw her chance as all attention was on the other boy, she bolted for the forest, her legs carrying her as fast as possible. She didn't know why she was running, all she knew was that she had to get out of there. She could hear them shout out behind her ('We've got a runner!') and there was the thump of footsteps that indicated a pursuer not far behind her. The forest wasn't exceedingly thick, but she was snagged on some of the underbrush, as was her pursuer, and there was the telltale shout of swearing behind her, but she didn't stop to look back. There was a moment where she almost knew she was going to be caught, his voice was close, his footsteps were too, but the forest came to an abrupt halt and she ran face first into the wall, a blast of pain followed by a single memory. She was followed by her pursuer and they both ended up pressed to the wall, or, more accurately, the girl was pressed to the wall and her pursuer misjudged his speed and ran into her.
"What a way to meet." He chuckled, his voice heavily accented. She made a move to squirm out from beneath him, but he had already stepped back and taken a firm hold of her upper arm, pulling her back through the forest in the direction of camp. He was tall and blonde and he said his name was Newt. She didn't mind him, and let herself be lead, having snapped from fleeing to passive within a very short space of time.
"Alby! I found her!" He crowed, triumphantly, entering the largest clearing where they had began. The girl saw all of the boys there, talking and laughing and she flinched. However, Newt's hand was steady on her bicep and instead of running, she edged closer to him.
"Did she outrun you, Newt?" Snorted one of the other boys, before Alby, the dark-skinned boy, turned on the girl, she almost froze up, not understanding if he was mad or considering her potential.
"Well? Did you?" He asked. The girl looked at him, her gaze once again shallow, and remained silent. Newt hadn't let go of her and she was glad almost, her fingers were twitched and she wanted to leave so badly, but she stayed, almost pressing herself to his side. He seemed to catch on.
"One of the fastest runners I've ever seen. Could probably take on Minho if she wanted." The girl felt pride flare in her heart, despite the fact she didn't know who Minho was.
"So how did ya' catch her?" Another one asked. The girl opened her mouth, though could not utter a sound, but Newt just laughed.
"We ran into a bit of wall." He said, a knowing little note in his voice. The girl looked on silently as Alby evaluated her. He nodded slightly, almost approvingly, and she straightened her back.
"Take her on the tour then. If you want her to be a runner, you run with her tomorrow." He told Newt, who grinned and nodded. This, of course, lead to a round of jeering and whooping from the gathered boys, including a shout of 'Yeah! Get it, Newt!' The girl paused, witty barb on the tip of her tongue with her mouth refusing to cooperate with her, but Newt tugged her away.
"Don't listen to them. They've never seen a girl before." He murmured to her, and the girl turned to him, raising one eyebrow, breaking the emotional silence she had created, conveying her skepticism at his statement. "Well, I haven't either," he admitted, "but anyone who runs that fast earns my respect." He's silent for the next few minutes and he didn't let go of her arm. She feels like she should be struggling, but doesn't. She either shuts down or bolts and she just can't bolt. They arrive at a small building, the most structurally sound, seeming to be built from a pre-made structure, full of different rooms and hammocks. Newt showed her where her room would be, letting go and sliding his hand down her back, in what would be a reassuring gesture, if it didn't end with him pulling the gun from where she had it tucked into her waistband.
"Where the shuck did you get this?" He hissed, his demeanour changing rapidly. He didn't seem mad, he seemed... afraid, almost. The girl froze and pressed a hand to where the gun was just a moment ago, mind still going over the situation in her head after such a mood whiplash. The girl, her hand shaking, pointed out towards the cage, once she had a bearing on her thoughts, and Newt's jaw clenched. "I'm handing this straight to Alby. Do you know how dangerous this is?" He asked. The girl struggled for a moment, trying to make her mind work with her mouth, as he turned on his heel and headed towards the door, before managing to find her voice for the first time since arriving.
"No!" She shouted, and covered her mouth with both of her hands, her mind flashing to the harsh face of Gally hauling supplies, roughly, his words harsh and uncaring. Newt turned back to her, frown creasing his forehead. "I mean, yes, but only to Alby." She blurted. Newt sighed, a small, almost weary smile on his face. He told Alby that the girl had found it with the other supplies but didn't realise what it was, and Alby huffed out 'fine' and the girl wasn't punished. They kept on with the tour, Newt reverting back to his non-gun-panicky state, and the girl remaining silent.
"Three rules," he told her as they stood facing an opening in the walls, "one, do your part. Help out around here, whatever your job is." The girl nodded and looked to the opening of in the wall, a long, concrete corridor before her. "Two, never harm another glader," at her confused expression, Newt gestured to the two of them, and the others around the glade, "anyone from here, part of the glade. And three," his attention was turned back to the opening in the walls, "is never go into the maze; this." He pointed to it, before turning to her, "but we're going in tomorrow."
The girl nodded once and waited patiently for Newt to lead the way to the next destination. When he didn't, the girl looked at him, only to see him looking back at her with a curious expression. "Do you remember your name or anything?" He asked, looking over her. Her chocolate coloured eyes dropped to the ground and she froze for a moment, before nodding slowly. "Really? That fast? I suppose you did get hit pretty hard by that wall." There was another moment of silence and Newt asked, quietly. "What is your name, then?"
The girl waited, with her name on her tongue, trying to calm her mind that was urging her to run fast and far. Her voice was quiet and she managed one word.
"Tasha."