[ ELECTRA ]
❧
Thomas didn't stop running. The Gladers followed him as best as they could as the boy sprinted across the cracked floor, but Electra and Minho tore ahead from the pack as Thomas sped up.
How could he be so stupid? Electra wanted to catch up to him just so that she could smack him across the head. Not only had he insisted on going into the shack alone to meet the mystery girl, but then he ran off without muttering a single word to the Gladers. Stupid. Stupid boy.
For all they knew, maybe Thomas had gotten information from the girl and no longer needed the Gladers. Now he was desperately running away from them to save his own life. Something inside Electra told her that wasn't true. So, she tried to run faster, wanting to catch up with him. But Thomas was quick. Whatever he'd seen inside the shack had given him a boost of adrenaline that Electra didn't have.
At some point, maybe two or three hours after he'd bolted off, Thomas collapsed onto the sandy floor. The boy coughed on all fours, gasping for air. Electra and Minho caught up to him first.
"Are you okay?" Minho asked, placing his hands on his knees and swallowing huge gasps of air.
"Are you crazy?" Electra raised her hands at her sides. "Thomas, that was the single stupidest thing you've ever done, and you've done too many stupid things to count!"
"Sorry..." was all Thomas could choke out, which only made Electra angrier.
"Hey, dude? Look at those shanks back there, okay? The ones struggling to keep up with you." She pointed to the mass of shadows moving in the far-off distance; the rest of the Gladers had fallen behind in their chase. "We're all dehydrated, tired and scared. And this sprint of yours could've very well put any of their lives in danger."
Her speech surprised her. Since when had she cared about the safety of the other Gladers? They obviously didn't care about hers, considering how they'd insulted and argued with her about her tattoo earlier. Still, the fact that a couple of Gladers had already died, and after witnessing the horrific metal ball incident, she didn't want to see any more death.
Minho knelt next to Thomas, slowly shaking his head. "How could you do that? How could you just come out of there and take off like that? Without explaining anything? Since when is that how we do things? You slinthead," he let out a sigh before falling onto his butt.
"Sorry," Thomas repeated, but this time continued. "It was kinda traumatizing."
Tension was released from Electra's deep frown. Her shoulders dropped, and she let out a breath that'd been trapped in her lungs. What could he have seen in that tiny shack that could've been that bad? A part of Electra wished it'd been her that had gone into the shed instead of him. Whatever it had been, she probably would have handled it.
When she noticed her softening demeanour, Electra shook her head. What was she thinking? Did she really care about Thomas that much? Since when?
The other Gladers had finally caught up with them, and most of them fell to the floor, grasping their chests while wheezing. A few of them looked green, while others looked positively annoyed at Thomas.
"Traumatizing?" Minho asked. "Who did you see in there? What did they say?"
"It was... it was Teresa," Thomas said, although his voice was low.
A few of the Gladers gasped, while others called him a liar. Electra, on the other hand, felt a part of herself boil. She hadn't properly seen the girl since their first day after escaping the Maze. Why hadn't Teresa been dropped into the Scorch Trials like the rest of them? Why was she standing in some random shack, obviously undisturbed by the elements? Electra remembered her flowing black hair. She'd looked clean.
As always, Teresa was lucky. And, as always, Electra couldn't fight her jealousy.
"What? You're serious?" Minho finally said. When Thomas merely nodded in response, he continued. "And you just left her there? Dude, you need to start talking and tell us what happened!"
Thomas slowly shook his head, as if shaking the memories back into place, before speaking, "It was her. Definitely. And she was alone, as far as I could tell. But she was very upset. She was trembling and crying when I first got there..."
He stopped, and Electra wondered what details he was probably omitting from the story, but he continued, "And then she had this look on her face. A possessed look. One similar to Gally before he killed...
"But then she came back to herself and she warned me. She said to stay away from her. To keep all of us away from her. And then... well, I ran."
"Wow," was all Minho could say, which was more than any other Glader could say.
The overlooking city was now near, and the buildings seemed to lean in as if wanting to overhear the conversation. The sky was a dark blue, mixing with violets and pinks that tore across the sky like ribbons. The flickering of fires in the buildings' windows dimmed as the sun now threatened to poke above the horizon. Electra dreaded the sun rising any further, remembering the ghastly and sweltering heat from the day before.
"It was some kind of trap," Thomas said, finally breaking the silence. "I don't know what would've happened, or how many of us would've died. Maybe all of us. But I could see that there wasn't a doubt in her eyes when she broke away from whatever restrained her. She saved us, and I bet they'll make her..." he swallowed, forcing the words out. "I bet they'll make her pay for it."
Electra wasn't sure how to feel about the possibility of Teresa saving them. Her first instinct was to sit in the comfortable feeling of disbelief. Electra couldn't place her uncertainty on anything tangible, but the uncertainty was there nonetheless. It was like a ghost settling within her soul, possessing her to believe certain things and behave in certain ways.
Electra was certain Teresa's motives couldn't have been entirely altruistic. What did Teresa have to gain from saving them? Did Teresa care that much about the Gladers? If so, where was she now? Why hadn't she run out with Thomas?
"Dude, if those shuck WICKED people wanted her dead, she'd be rotting under a big pile of rocks. She's just as tough as anybody else, maybe tougher. She'll survive." Minho supportively placed a hand on Thomas' shoulder.
"I know..." Thomas said. "Somehow, I know."
Minho nodded before standing up. "We should've stopped a couple hours ago to get some sleep. But thanks to Mr. Desert Runner down here" – he lightly whacked Thomas on the back of his head – "we ran ourselves ragged till the sun came back up. I still think we need to rest for a while. Do it under the sheets, whatever, but let's try."
At this point, all of the Gladers were grateful for the idea of a break. The group fell into its natural subgroups, and various low conversations were held between Gladers. These conversations were short-lived, since all of them were no doubt exhausted. Electra, however, couldn't fall asleep. Thomas' story gnawed at her brain.
Electra peered over at Thomas who sat across the misshapen circle of Gladers with his arms hugging his knees. He stared off into cracks in the ground as if he was able to find comfort in the darkness between the ridges. She wondered if he was thinking about Teresa, and if not her then what was going through his mind.
What had he said earlier? That she was sobbing in front of him? That meeting Teresa again after all this time had been traumatizing? Electra wished she could've been a beetle blade on the wall; she wished she could've watched the interaction. How could seeing Teresa be so bad? How upset could she have possibly been?
The way Thomas looked now – slumped over and staring aimlessly at nothing – told Electra that it had somehow been pretty bad. She remembered how he'd acted earlier when the Gladers had questioned her about her tattoo. He had defended her.
"We don't know anything about the tattoos yet. So, until we know let's not assume anything."
"Everyone just back off. She's one of us."
Why? He certainly didn't have to. But he had. Electra noted that it wasn't the first time Thomas had defended her. What did he have to gain from keeping her on his good side?
So, against her better judgment, Electra pulled herself up and plopped herself down beside Thomas. He didn't acknowledge her movement, but the two sat quietly side by side. Electra crossed her legs and her eyes darted back and forth across the horizon, trying to find something else to focus on. She felt the urge to say something, to find a way to comfort him about what he'd seen earlier, but she was never very good at problems concerning emotions.
As the moment dragged on, a memory popped into Electra's head. She wasn't sure why this memory had decided to reveal itself, but as she remembered it the moment was still as vivid as when she'd experienced it.
"Electra, I have a question for you." Thomas sat and pulled some water out of his pack, taking a big sip.
"What is it?" Electra sat on the opposing side of the hallway, looking over at him.
"Your name. Was that the name you remembered?"
"Of course it is." Electra's tone was cold, and she said the words before she could think them through. "Why? Do you remember another one?"
Thomas' eyes fell upon hearing her tone, and his face dropped into a frown. "I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry. It's just that your name is so different from everyone else's."
"Yeah well, I'm not a normal Glader, am I? So a different name makes sense, does it not?"
"Guess so."
As the memory finished playing in her head, she found herself back in the Scorch sitting uncomfortably beside Thomas. She felt as though the memory had been suddenly implanted in her head at that moment as if something out of her control had decided for her to remember the moment.
Still, as she shifted her gaze to Thomas, an unfamiliar feeling filled the pit of her stomach and her face went red. If she couldn't console him, then maybe she could distract him with the information he'd wanted to know.
So, before she could properly think through her actions, she awkwardly blurted out, "It's Rosalind."
Thomas turned to her, and his eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
Electra insecurely picked at her nails, unable to meet Thomas' eye. "Back in the Maze... you asked if Electra was the name I remembered. It wasn't. The name I remembered was Rosalind."
"Oh..." Thomas trailed off. Electra wasn't sure if he even remembered asking, and when she found the courage to meet his eye, his face didn't reveal if he could actually remember. "After Rosalind Franklin, then?"
"I guess so," Electra said. She knew all of the Gladers had been named after influential figures, but she'd never stopped to wonder where her old name had come from. The name was meaningless to her since adopting a new one. Still, for some reason, she felt uncomfortable with the Gladers knowing it. So, she continued, in a harsher tone, "You have to promise not to tell the other Gladers."
Thomas studied her expression and Electra felt as though she was under a microscope. What was he thinking? Was he wondering why she changed her name? Was he debating telling the Gladers about it? Was he judging her? After a few endless moments, he held out his pinky and gave her a goofy smile. "I pinky promise."
A pinky promise? Only Thomas would suggest such a thing. Electra couldn't stop the laugh that escaped her lips at his silly way of promising. Her grin only grew as she held out her pinky and curled it around his. They shook pinkies before they redirected their attention back to the floor. Somehow, Electra knew her secret was safe with him.
"You've always been very private," Thomas noted aloud, his voice low against the subtle snoring of the Gladers around them. "You know, after I first met you, I wondered if you'd ever be capable of opening up to anyone."
Electra sat with his words for a few moments. Had she been able to open up to someone? She knew she was the closest with Minho – she'd even kissed him twice – but she always felt this invisible barrier between her and anyone else. And no matter how hard she tried to break down the wall, it only got stronger. The Maze had built those walls within her, and even now that she escaped from the endless stone walls, they still held her prisoner.
"I'm not even sure if I'm capable."
Thomas shook his head. "No, you are. I've seen how you are around Minho. Around him, you're able to let your guard down."
Minho? Was it really that obvious? Was there an obvious contrast between how she acted around Minho versus the other Gladers? Regardless of the invisible barriers, and the complicated tangle of emotions and doubt between them, it made sense that she would outwardly act differently towards him. Electra remembered meeting him on her first day in the Maze. He always helped her. Always accepted her. Always went along with whatever she thought would procure her own safety in relation to the voice she'd heard, even though they later realized she'd been wrong all along.
Meanwhile, the other Gladers? They'd always been afraid of her. Judging from the argument surrounding her tattoo, and the Gladers' anger at her for a nickname she couldn't control, it was clear that fear surrounding her and her capabilities fogged their minds. And it had ever since she'd first revealed herself in the Glade. The fear had always been there, but Electra had been too stubborn to realize it. Or maybe she had realized it before, but never fully understood the consequences of being feared. With fear, came hatred. Electra was certain the Gladers hated her. Minho, however, had never been afraid. He never hated her.
So, Electra merely shrugged. "No one's ever really been there for me... well, except for Minho, of course."
"That's not true."
Electra furrowed her brows, at first not quite understanding what Thomas was saying. Then, once it clicked, she slowly turned her head to look at him. Had Thomas really ever been there for her? Had she been blind this entire time? Electra's gut instinct was to push the possibility away and hide behind her invisible walls. But this time, she couldn't. Her walls were invisible, after all. If she tried to hide behind them at this moment she knew Thomas would be able to see right through them. Right through her.
The truth was that he had been there for her, since the first time they'd met. Thomas didn't have to keep her existence a secret in the Maze after their first encounter, especially after Electra had been nothing but rude to him, but he promised he would, and he had. After his initial suspicions of her, Thomas had never once questioned her loyalty or thought negatively of her, even when she'd countlessly accused him of working with WICKED and knowing more than he let on. Thomas was always there to defend her in arguments whenever her integrity was challenged. Thomas had never been afraid of her. Thomas, somehow, trusted her.
"It's okay to accept help. Especially from those who care about you," Thomas said.
"Easier said than done."
"I know the other Gladers are hard on you about your past in the Maze and your tattoo, but they're just scared."
"You don't have to do that."
"Do what?"
"Try to make me feel better about it. I already don't care."
"It's just–" Thomas shifted in his seat, trying to find the right words. "They were rude today, but they still don't want anything bad happening to you."
"I'd beg to differ," Electra scoffed. "If I died right now I think a couple of them would dance on my grave."
"You're a Glader. They wouldn't want to see you die."
"I'm not a Glader."
"You helped us escape the Maze. You are a Glader."
"Only by technicality, then. Because I bet if you asked the boy who almost just had his head seared off or the ones who openly bashed me today or even Aris, you'd get a different answer."
"You're just as much a Glader as anyone else here." Thomas peered into Electra's eyes but frowned at her obvious apprehension. "Just trust me on this, okay?"
"That's rich."
Thomas sighed, "Why can't you trust people?"
Electra looked up at the sky, noticing inklings of orange painting the already existing collage of pinks, purples, and blues. For her, it wasn't a question of trust. It was a question of safety and survival. She needed to survive. She didn't know why or how, but the necessity pushed her to do whatever it took. And the fewer people she had to worry about, the higher chances she had of surviving.
Electra shifted her gaze to Thomas. "It's people that put us into that Maze. And not just a couple of people. To orchestrate something that big, there must've been teams of people. Hundreds. Thousands maybe. All those people were okay with killing innocent children in the name of science. If people can pull off something that horrendous, then they shouldn't be trusted."
Thomas looked down at his feet, furrowing his brows. Eventually, Electra heard more Gladers nearby snoring from under their respective bedsheets. Thomas opened his mouth a couple of times to speak, but then subsequently closed it again when Electra presumed the words he was thinking weren't feeling right.
Finally, Thomas spoke, "What WICKED is doing, I agree it's horrible. But me, these Gladers... we aren't WICKED." He slowly shook his head, and Electra wished she could peer into his mind. "I don't remember much about the real world, but I like to think of it all as one big balancing act. If WICKED, the Scorch, and the Flare is the worst this world has to offer, then imagine how good all the other parts must be?"
Electra gave him a pointed look. "I think you're a little too optimistic."
"Well, I need something to get me through all this, don't I?"
"And if there isn't equal good and bad in the world?"
"There has to be because I already see it." Thomas smiled. "I see it in Newt. In Minho. In you. In all the Gladers. Inherent goodness, deep down but covered in fear. Once we get out of here it won't be covered anymore. We'll be able to find more of it."
"Yeah, okay," Electra said, still completely unconvinced although she appreciated his honesty. "We'll see if you still believe that after walking through hell-on-Earth up there." She pointed toward the city.
Thomas surprised her by laughing. "Yeah, I guess we'll see."
The sun blazed mercilessly as it rose, casting the Gladers in an ever-present gold. Thomas cringed against the elements, before taking his bedsheet and wrapping himself and Electra in it.
A part of her regretted calling Thomas stupid earlier. In reality, he was anything but. While he was a bit too hopelessly optimistic, WICKED must've chosen him for a reason, right? Electra hadn't forgotten that Teresa and Thomas used to work for WICKED before and during most of the Maze Trials. But her? She'd been exiled to isolation in the Maze before they ever considered giving her a chance.
"I can't understand why they wouldn't let me help them," Electra said, her voice almost a whisper. She didn't think she'd be able to speak louder about the subject even if she tried. "They let you help them."
Thomas looked at her, puzzled. "Who? WICKED?"
"Yeah. If I had the amount of money and resources that they have, I would've been able to find a cure." Electra crossed her arms. She wasn't entirely sure if the statement was true, but she couldn't believe that a corporation so massive had become so desperate as to torture children to find results.
She expected Thomas to disagree with her. To poke holes in her statement. To bring up the fact that she had no idea what the Flare was or how it worked. To mention how she had no memories of her life before the Maze and no expertise in medicine.
Instead, he said, "Yeah, you probably would've."
Four simple words of support were all that was needed to ingrain the mission into Electra's mind. She wasn't entirely certain if Thomas actually believed his words, or again if he was just being hopelessly optimistic, but it didn't matter. Right there, laying underneath a torn and ratty bedsheet in the middle of the Scorch, with boys sleeping in the sand near her all reeking of trepidation, and all infected with the Flare, she made a promise to herself.
Somehow, someway, she would find a cure. And whatever cure she would be destined to find would not be the product of child torture and death. Electra wouldn't allow herself to become the evils that had been controlling her for all her remembered life. There had to be another way, and Electra would discover it.
First things first, however, she needed to get out of the goddamn Scorch.
—
A/N: if you're wondering when thomas asks for electra's remembered name it's in chapter 18 of sotm!! and i think it's cool how she finally tells him in chapter 18 of sotf (was totally a coincidence but i'll pretend it was a purposeful choice)
anyways we're in for some real electra character development FINALLY. girlie can't be this cold and closed off forever lol