CHAPTER THIRTEEN: MR. JANSON
Layla sat in a chair, feeling exhausted and numb. Her vision was blurry, but she could make out the shape of a man walking towards her. She immediately knew she didn't like the man—he was even worse than Luke, a boy she had always butted heads with, even before his betrayal.
"Layla." The man greeted with false enthusiasm. "It's been a while."
Layla only glared, despite the haze that she was in. Her eyes stared coldly at the blurred figure ahead of her. She didn't want to satisfy the man with a response, but she couldn't hold back her anger.
"Layla..." the man drawled out, like it was routine. He had grown used to her anger. After what he stole, she would never forgive him.
Layla wasn't aware of the person next to him until she heard the shuffling, and she blinked rapidly as she looked to the next person. She could make out a dark haired boy, who held his hands at his sides. She couldn't see his face through the haze.
"This is Minho." The man said, "you'll be training him from here on out. We've decided to see how well you work with others due to your... skill set."
Layla didn't respond, because she figured she didn't have a say in the matter. She didn't know who Minho was, but she just hoped he was better company than the man standing only a few feet away from her.
The man began to talk once again, but Layla's vision began to go dark—no. Layla began to wake up, the voices around her pulling her out of her deep sleep.
"Layla!" Newt's voice rang clear in Layla's ears. Her eyes shot wide open, her vision now clear. She glanced around; the world had gone dark, but the helicopter she was in was as loud as ever. How she managed to fall asleep with all the noise, she would never know.
Layla made eye contact with Newt. He looked frantic as he yanked her out of the helicopter upon seeing her awake. "What's going on?" She called out, her voice barely heard over the noise.
Layla heard Minho's voice behind her, and hesitated. She glanced back, squinting her eyes as the wind whipped the sand all around, threatening to damage her eyes. Minho was shaking Thomas awake, who seemed to be in a deeper sleep than she was.
"Let's go!" Newt called.
"Get out of here!" A soldier shouted, suddenly whipping their head into the direction of an inhuman scream off in the distance. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard—Layla hated it, surprisingly more than the sound of a Griever.
This sound brought forth a headache from behind her eyes. She stumbled, Newt catching her quickly and bringing her back to her feet.
It was such a horrifyingly familiar sound.
"Cranks! We got cranks!"
"What the fuck are 'cranks'?" Layla shouted, turning to face a soldier. The soldier forcefully pushed her back towards the building ahead, shouting something that she couldn't hear over the gunfire.
As she made her way to the large building ahead, she squinted her eyes as lights shined left and right. After getting used to the darkness that she loved so much, her eyes burned in aggravation. Putting her hand over the lights to block them out was no use, as the sand that flew around clouded her vision.
Everything sounded muffled as it was a mix of gunfire, shouts and screams. The helicopter blades had a deafening sound as they continued to spin at a deadly speed.
"Keep moving! Keep moving!"
"Tell them to take off! We're clear!" A soldier shouted from next to Newt and Layla, but they barely registered what he said as something caught their eye.
Through the dark and the billowing sand, a figure limped its way across the sand, falling as it's leg snapped out of place. Layla's stomach churned, and her headache grew worse. She had seen these things before.
She nearly threw up at the sight, but a hand on her back caused her to turn away from it.
Newt quickly pushed her inside the building, and she turned and watched as the large metal doors closed and locked, leaving the fight behind them.
Layla frowned. She didn't like being locked in. She knew it was for her safety but it felt wrong. Despite being out of reach of the so called 'cranks', Layla did not feel safe.
She let out rapid breaths as she turned around. There, people were talking in rushed voices; some were building while others instructed what was to be done. It was a warehouse.
Still, the space was very open, and looked eerily similar to the labs by the Maze. The technology was the same, the colour scheme was the same... it was all like she'd seen before. However, Layla had almost no memory of the outside world. Maybe this was a common theme, but she didn't truly believe that. She was only trying to convince herself that everything was okay.
But when was it ever?
"Get inside. Hurry, hurry, hurry."
The Gladers were shoved into a small room, and Layla nearly tripped over her own feet due to the pace they were running at, mindlessly following orders like it was a natural thing to do.
"Wait, what's going on out there?" Thomas asked quickly, just before the man locked them inside the room.
The man hesitated, and spoke in a dry voice. "Nothing we can't handle." He slammed the door shut immediately after, causing Layla to flinch. She glared at the door, as if that would give the man the message that she didn't like him.
The room was completely dark, but Layla could see without an issue. She watched as the boys began slamming on the door, attempting to get it to open. "Let us out!" Thomas shouted, but he quickly stopped as the lights in the room began to turn on, illuminating their surroundings.
Layla watched with furrowed brows as he gazed at something behind her, before turning around to look at it herself.
Her jaw dropped. There, in the centre of the room, was a table full of the best foods she could imagine. Her mouth practically watered at the sight. She hadn't eaten in hours.
Frypan was the first to move, quickly making his way over to the table. "Dibs on the rice!" He called, smiling as he held a large bowl of rice all to himself.
Layla groaned inwardly, I wanted the rice.
She quickly made her way over to the table, deciding that she would start with the chicken. The boys began to laugh as Frypan reached over her, taking a pear for himself.
"Hey," she playfully glared at him, "go around." She took her own pear as well, taking a large bite into it, savouring the taste.
"This is way better than Frypan's slop." Winston called out, causing everyone to laugh. Layla gasped softly as Teresa threw a handful of rice, half of it landing on her, the other half landing on Winston.
"Hey!" Layla called, quickly throwing rice back at her, causing her to duck and for most of it to land in her hair.
"The rice!" Frypan watched as the rice flew through the air with a look of horror plastered on his face, "the rice!"
After they'd finished eating, laughing and trying to forget everything they had been through in a matter of hours, they all sat around the room in silence. Layla let the memories of the Glade wash over her, her mind drifting to the ones they lost.
She took a brief moment to think about everything from her life before. She hesitated, nearly forgetting their names, before it clicked. Percy, Nico, Hazel. They were important names, and she was determined to never forget them.
She recalled her most recent memory, and the brief thought of a boy named Luke. She wondered who he was to her, and what he had done to make her feel so bad inside when his name came to mind.
Her eyes trailed to Thomas. For a second longer, she thought of Percy when she stared at him. She thought that maybe the two would get along, but then again, Thomas was easy to get along with. She was sure that anyone could befriend him if they had good intentions.
"I don't know who these guys are," Fry sighed softly, pulling Layla back to the present, "but they can cook." He admitted with a light chuckle.
"But, who are they really, though?" Teresa pinched her brows together at the thought, "I mean, we don't know anything about em'."
"Well, we know they're no friends of WICKED." Newt shrugged softly, and Minho hummed from where he laid on a table.
"That's good enough for me." He said aloud. "You guys think too much. We're free. Enjoy it."
Layla frowned. Minho's words didn't make her feel any better. "It's hard to trust people after everything that's happened, Minho." But the boy didn't say anything at her comment, he just stared up at the ceiling as he sighed. "You know that."
As if on cue, the door was unlocked and opened, and Layla found herself looking to see who it was. The Gladers quickly stood up, making their way towards the door.
She furrowed her brows as a man walked in, his hair was greying and he held a bored expression on his face, that she could tell he was trying to hide. As if on instinct, Layla reached to her side like a weapon would be there, but she had none. This man made her uneasy.
"You kids doing all right?" He asked as his eyes moved from one Glader to another. Layla tilted her head—she knew that voice. "Sorry about all the fuss. We had ourselves a... bit of a swarm."
Thomas furrowed his brows, his head tilted softly. "Who are you?" He asked the question that was at the tip of Layla's tongue.
The man smiled softly, "I'm the reason you're all still alive." Layla found herself crossing her arms. "It's my intention to keep you that way. Now, come with me. We'll get you kids squared away." The man walked out of the doorway and down the hall, not bothering to check if the others were following.
"You can call me Mr. Janson." The man introduced as they walked around the building. Layla looked around in interest as the men around them continued to work and build. "I run this place. For us it is a sanctuary, safe from the horrors of the outside world. You all should think of it as a way station. Kind of a... home between homes." He pointed up as sparks fell down, a man was working from above. "Watch yourselves."
"That means you're taking us home?" Thomas asked hopefully, but the hope soon left as Janson grimaced.
"A home of sorts." Oh? "Sadly, there wouldn't be much left if wherever you came from. But we do have a place for you. A refuge, outside the Scorch, where WICKED will never find you again. How does that sound?"
Janson made eye contact with Layla for half a second, and Layla was quick to pick up on something. There had been a lie in his words somewhere. She reached for Minho's hand, squeezing it as a way of letting him know that something was off. Minho returned the gesture.
There were a few moments of silence as no one answered, they just continued to follow the man. But then, Minho spoke, and Layla turned her head to face him as he did so. "Why are you helping us?"
"Let's just say the world out there is in a rather precarious situation." Janson informed, his back still turned to them as he walked. "We're all hanging on by a very thin thread. The fact that you kids can survive the Flare virus makes you the best chance of humanity's continued survival. Unfortunately, it also makes you a target, as no doubt by now, you've noticed. Beyond this door lies the beginning of your new lives." He pointed to a door ahead, and Layla squinted as she tried to look through the window.
Janson swiped a keycard through a small device that also had a set of numbers on it. The light on it turned from red to green, and the door immediately began to open. "First things first..." he turned to face them, "let's do something about that smell."
Layla let the hot water pour onto her skin, closing her eyes as she sighed softly, her hands around the back of her neck. It was the first hot shower she had had in... a long time. It was nice.
"Teresa?" Layla called softly, turning to look at the wall next to her that divided the showers. She heard the girl hum softly on the other side, so she continued. "Do you trust them?"
There were a few beats of silence as Teresa thought about the question, then she finally answered. "I don't know how much I do, yet, but for now I think it's okay to do what they say. They're treating us nicely so far." Layla frowned. She wasn't nearly as trusting as Teresa was. "Besides, how bad could they be?"
Layla pondered the question in silence, while she let her mind wander through her newfound memories. How bad could they be? It was such a simple question, but the answer could be terrifying—and Layla wasn't ready to know just how horrible they could be.
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lizzie speaks...
sorry for the super late update. i took a break but then i got sick. feeling better now so hello hello lovely readers! welcome to act two
... sorry
(if you know who made the og without the names, pls lmk. it's hilarious and i wanna give credit)