Elle couldn't tell how long they'd been in the helicopter. The sun had long set, obscuring their view of the ground and making it impossible to tell where they were and how much time had passed.
Sitting between Newt and Thomas, Elle was exhausted. Everyone was fading in and out of sleep–equally fatigued and drained from their escape from the Maze. With heavy limbs that felt like lead, Elle moved slowly, as if her body struggled to keep up with her mind. The muscles in her legs and arms ached, and her hands shook with leftover adrenaline and anxiety.
Thomas, emotionally exhausted from watching and feeling Chuck die beneath his fingers, had fallen asleep long ago. When his breaths calmed, and the tears stopped falling, he took one look at the Gladers and slumped back against the supplies he was leaning on. Elle was relieved when she heard the soft sounds of Thomas sleeping and was even happier when some of the other Gladers followed suit.
Even though she desperately wanted to join them, sleep was evading her. All she could think of was Chuck's face when he took his final breath and the last words he'd spoken to her. I love you. His sweet voice was genuine and vulnerable, and she felt his loss deep in her gut. It poured out of her like a rainstorm, filling her with consuming sadness that soaked her to the bone. Every inch of her body ached, and every part of her heart hurt. It was complete agony, and Elle would have to learn to live with it.
The helicopter ride was smooth sailing for the most part. Anytime the helicopter dropped an inch, Elle felt her stomach swirl like she might throw up. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists, hoping and praying to whoever was out there that they would make it through the helicopter ride and find safety wherever they landed. Even as she worried about their futures, Elle's mind drifted back to Chuck like clockwork.
Around two hours after the helicopter took off from the Maze, the people who rescued them told them to get up. "Get ready!" a man shouted, alerting the Gladers. "We haven't got much time when we land! Everybody up now!"
Elle scrambled to her feet, ignoring the sharp pain in her calf and wincing. She stretched her leg and woke Frypan and Winston up. Minho, who hadn't slept a wink the entire flight, shoved Thomas's shoulder and woke him up. "Thomas! Wake up! We gotta go! Come on!" he yelled.
Thomas scrambled to his feet, startled by how things had changed since. It was pitch black outside, and he could only see what was illuminated by their saviours' headlamps and the LED lights on the ground.
With the help of one of the men, Elle jumped out of the helicopter and sank her boots back into the soft sand of the desert. She remembered from the video Ava Paige made that the sun had scorched the earth and wondered if everything was now a desolate desert environment. She followed Minho as they ran through the sand. Squinting, Elle tried to keep the sand from blowing in her eyes and obscuring her vision.
"Cranks!" A loud voice screamed from behind Elle. She whipped her head around, frightened by the sudden explosion of gunfire behind her. It was like a jolt to her system, a loud, deafening sound that echoed in her eardrums, making it impossible to locate. "We got Cranks!" They shouted in warning.
"Keep going!" Someone grabbed her arm and pulled Elle along. She nearly tripped, but let them drag her in the opposite direction of the gunfire. The same man pushed Thomas beside her. "Gotta move! Not safe out here, kid!"
Another person yelled, "Got a swarm to the flank!"
"Go, kid! Go, go! Set a perimeter! Hold them back on the right side!"
"Come on, kids, let's go!"
"Let's go!"
"Move it! Come on!"
"Keep moving! Keep moving!"
Elle stumbled through the sand in the direction of a huge, illuminated building. The chaos of the gunfire and shouting made it hard for Elle to comprehend what was happening. She was confused, trusting the people who saved them to know which way to go and what to do. She'd been right to assume they were somewhat sheltered in the Maze, tucked away from the troubles of the world and unprepared for the dangers that came with it.
As soldiers continued to open fire into the darkness, the Gladers ran to the enormous building. It was lit by floodlights and was several stories high. Elle gaped up at it; the building looked futuristic and industrial, not what she was used to from the rudimentary architecture of the Maze and Glade.
"Tell him to take off! We're clear!" The man who had helped her shouted, waving at the people they were running to.
The helicopter that rescued them took off just as Elle and Thomas ran through heavy steel doors. Once inside, the doors slid shut and locked with huge bolts. Elle glanced up at the door. It was painted with yellow lines, and she couldn't find the top because it was so large. Panting to catch her breath, she turned and joined the Gladers. They were inside a vast hangar. The group stood in a daze, gawking at the machinery and soldiers running around.
The group was led to a storage room with makeshift beds on the floor, and they spread out, waiting for someone to tell them what to do next. Minho sat at one of the picnic tables and picked at the food they laid out. Nobody was particularly hungry. Elle shifted her eyes around the room, checking on the Gladers and ensuring nobody was awfully hurt. She met a familiar pair of warm brown eyes and tried to smile at Newt, though it looked more like a grimace.
"You alright?" he whispered, joining her on the mattress she sat on. Elle nodded tiredly. She didn't want to tell him that her body ached and her mind was racing, and she couldn't catch her breath because panic was taking over, because she knew Newt had it much worse. "Good," Newt hummed. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her sideways, hoping to comfort her.
Luckily, the Gladers didn't have to anxiously wait much longer. A man with a bulletproof vest and gun opened the steel door to the storage container. At the squeaky sound, everyone got to their feet and huddled together. A tall, thin man wearing a turtleneck sweater and a black leather jacket entered and smiled at them. "You kids doing all right?" he asked, nodding at them. The Gladers approached him unsurely. "Sorry about all the fuss. We had ourselves a bit of a swarm," he explained what happened outside.
"Who are you?" Thomas asked him.
The man grinned. "I'm the reason you're all still alive," he replied. "It's my intention to keep you that way. Now, come with me." He backed away. "We'll get you kids squared away," he added, walking down the hallway and expecting the Gladers to follow him.
Everyone watched him suspiciously, overly cautious after being stuck in the Maze. "Do we follow him?" Frypan wondered, glancing over at Elle for help.
She nodded. "I want to know what he has to say," Elle admitted, taking the first step to go after the man.
"You can call me Mr Janson," the man told them as he led the group through the facility. "I run this place. For us, it is a sanctuary, safe from the horrors of the outside world." Elle observed the sparks flying from machinery with weary eyes. "You all should think of it as a way station." Janson turned the corner, and the Gladers followed. "Kind of a home between homes. Watch yourselves." He pointed out the welding fall overhead.
"That mean you're taking us home?" Thomas inquired, eyes wide.
Janson looked at Thomas over his shoulder. "A home of sorts," he said vaguely. "Sadly, there wouldn't be much left of wherever you came from." Elle sucked in a harsh breath. It was a reality she had prepared herself for, but the confirmation that the world was desolate was a lot to take in. "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 offered.
The Gladers shared uncertain looks. Everything felt too good to be true, and none of them were playing into the hands of strangers without a tinge of scepticism after everything they'd gone through.
"Why are you helping us?" Minho demanded.
"Let's just say the world out there is in a rather precarious situation. We're all hanging on by a very thin thread," Janson explained, turning another corner. "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." Janson slowed beside a heavy steel door. "Beyond this door lies the beginning of your new lives." He swiped his key card, and the steel door raised, revealing a long passageway. It reminded Elle of the one they walked through when they finally left the Maze, sending shivers down her spine. Janson stepped into the hallway and grinned. "First things first, let's do something about that smell," he joked.
Janson led the Gladers through the passageway and pointed out the different showers and bathrooms. "Boys, you can all use these showers over here," he explained, motioning to the correct door. "You'll find anything you need and a set of clean clothes already waiting for you." An appreciative murmur rang through the hallway. "And you can use this bathroom over here," Janson pointed to a different door, turning to Elle. Something about his eyes made Elle shift uncomfortably on the spot; she didn't like how he looked vacant and void of emotion. "It's more private."
"Oh," Elle cleared her throat. "Um, thank you," she said awkwardly. Elle didn't know how to tell Janson that she felt safer staying with the boys, so she didn't. After all, it was probably best that she cleaned up in private. Before she stepped into the bathroom, Elle looked at the Gladers. They were equally unsure about parting from her. "I'll see you soon," Elle told them all, smiling at them before walking through the doorway.
The bathroom had a single shower, toilet, sink, and mirror, and Elle locked the door behind her. She removed her dirty, blood-caked clothes with a wince, putting them straight in the large bin by the door and stepping into the shower. Luckily, the water stream was hot and soothed her tender muscles. She watched as blood drained alongside the water and shuddered. Some of it was hers, some of it was Chuck's. With frantic motions, Elle scrubbed her body – five times over – before thoroughly washing her hair. The shampoo they provided left her hair feeling clean and smelling great, and the big towel they gave her was fluffy and soft. After patting herself dry, Elle changed into the clothes they left her. It was a pair of soft navy blue cotton pants, a white tank top, and a black zip-up hoodie. She left the hoodie unzipped, slipped into the soft yet sturdy black boots they left her, and glanced at herself in the mirror.
Elle had never seen herself before. She'd only known that her hair was brown, and Newt told her that her eyes were green. Her head tilted. She had a rosy complexion, expressive, bright green almond-shaped eyes with a ring of dark blue around the edge of the iris, long dark brown eyelashes, arched eyebrows, and full lips. The figure in the reflection blinked when she blinked, darted her eyes across the mirror when she did, and mimicked her every moment. Was this her? This is what she looked like? Elle couldn't wrap her head around it.
She finished towel-drying her hair and left it in the same laundry bin as her dirty clothes. It felt odd to know what she looked like. Elle didn't have a frame of reference to compare herself to. She supposed it didn't matter if she was pretty or ugly; Elle didn't feel any particular way about her physical appearance. It was a detached way of viewing herself, but she didn't care.
When she left the bathroom, a woman led her down the passageway wordlessly. Elle stepped through an open door and walked to what looked like a medical wing. Vials, medical machinery, and gym equipment were attached to heart monitors and other machines. The Gladers had been separated into sections where doctors and technicians checked on them. Elle smiled encouragingly at Newt as she walked past, noticing the huge needle that someone was about to inject him with. He looked at her with wide, unsure eyes, following her until she was told to sit on an exam table in a nearby room.
"Hello," one of the nurses walks into the room, approaching her with a smile. She was a middle-aged woman with a black bob and looked friendly enough. "You must be Elle. Your friends have told me about you," she explained. "I'm just going to check your vitals and draw some blood so we can make sure everything's alright. How does that sound?"
Elle picked at her fingers anxiously. "Fine," she nodded. The nurse injected her with vitamins, took all her vitals, and drew several test tubes worth of blood. Elle blinked sleepily, starting to feel faint. "Is that enough?" she wondered. "I'm starting to feel a little woozy."
"Sorry about that," the nurse acknowledged, screwing the tops on the test tubes. "That should be everything, sweetheart. I'll let the doctor know you're ready for her." With one last reassuring smile, she left Elle alone.
Swinging her legs nervously, Elle glanced around the area to see what the other Gladers were up to. Minho was running on a treadmill, looking like it was barely even exercise to him. His gaits were strong and even, and he wasn't out of breath or tired. Running the Maze every day for years had given him incredible stamina. Thomas was also getting his blood drawn, and there was a tray of vials full of it. Elle saw him mutter something to the medical technician helping him out and grinned, knowing he was probably making a sarcastic remark.
"Evening, Dr Crawford," Thomas's tech greeted a middle-aged black woman who entered the room. She wore her hair back and had a white lab coat on.
"Good evening," Dr Crawford replied, smiling at the man. "How are the new arrivals holding up?" she wondered.
"So far, so good," he replied.
"All right." Dr Crawford came to a stop in front of Elle. "And you must be Elle," she greeted her with a sympathetic expression. Elle nodded, and Dr Crawford entered the room, drawing the curtains around them for privacy. "Nice to meet you, Elle. My name is Dr Crawford."
"Hi." Elle smiled politely.
"First of all, I'm sorry to see you hear," Dr Crawford said, sitting on the office chair beside Elle. "I'm sure you've been through a lot, and I know it can be scary to trust new people. I want you to know that I'm just here to make sure you're safe and healthy, that's my only job," Dr Crawford promised.
Elle nodded. "I'm alright, I was only in there for a few days. Some of these guys were there for three years, you should be more worried about them," she admitted. "Are they all okay?"
"As far as I know, yes," Dr Crawford assured her. "You seem very close with them," she observed.
"Of course. We went through a lot together," Elle reminded the doctor. "They had my back and accepted me right away."
"And are you particularly close to any of them?" Dr Crawford wondered, trying to approach the subject carefully. Elle's brows pulled together in confusion. "That boy Thomas," she added, motioning to where he was getting his blood taken earlier. "He wouldn't stop asking about you. He answered all our questions by wondering where you were."
"Oh," Elle said, surprised. "Yes, Thomas and I are close," she confirmed. "Why does that matter?"
Dr Crawford explained, "We just don't want to be surprised if anything comes up in your bloodwork."
"My bloodwork?" Elle echoed, shaking her head. "What--" she paused, staring at the woman in surprise. "You think I might be pregnant?"
"Elle, I just--"
"I was only in there for a week, when would I have time to get pregnant?!" Elle exclaimed, shocked by the insinuation. "Not to mention I had more important things on my mind, anyway, since we were held captive in a huge maze without a--"
"I'm sorry if I've offended you, Elle," Dr Crawford assured her, eyes wide. "I only mean to ask you these questions to assess your health, that is all. It's a normal question we ask the girls who come here, I promise. We can move on if you'd like?"
"Let's move on," Elle agreed and crossed her arms over her chest protectively.