A/N: Long chapter. Also this song is incredible (and sounds a LOT like Troye Sivan). Enjoy!!
Also I'm not going to update for a few days at least because I have a super important career-defining exam on Wednesday (yay). But after then I'll make sure to have something for you <3
"What happened to you?"
"Did they test you?"
"Where did you come from?"
"No, but seriously, are you the Safe Haven?"
Trace looked up at the incoming group, suddenly overwhelmed. Each of them had about twenty questions to ask, and she didn't even know how to begin answering them.
"Hey, slim it, alright? She'll answer your shuck questions; just give her some space."
Trace smiled at Minho, who gave her a smug smirk before settling down on the ground again. Newt sat on her other side, still staring at her as if she might disappear. Trace was familiar with that feeling; she'd experienced it with every person she'd laid eyes on during her first few days in the Glade.
"Thank you, Mint-Fro," she nodded, then gestured to the ground around her. "This is the Safe Haven," she said. "Look."
She held up the flimsy- now broken- flag marking the spot they'd all worked so hard to get to and waved it around with false enthusiasm. "This is it," she said. "Congratulations, we risked our lives to find a ribbon."
Some of them began to panic, wondering if they'd be sent here to die. Others simply didn't believe Trace, or began coming up with theories as to why they'd been sent here and what would happen next. They were all wrong.
"It's fine," Harriet exclaimed, stepping forward. Sonya was beside her, and Trace couldn't help but glance between her face and Newt's, comparing features. They were so alike. There they were, brother and sister with no knowledge of it. This was one of those times where she hated knowing more than they did.
"We still have half an hour," Harriet continued. "We just need to wait."
Just then, Chuck pushed through the group, reaching the front. "Trace," he smiled, walking over to her. "You're here!" He picked a spot between her and Minho, giving her a big hug before beginning his own onslaught of questions. "How did you get here? Why weren't you with the other girls? Did you see any Cranks?"
"Okay, Chuckie," Newt smiled. "Trace can't answer all your questions at once. Let her tell the story for herself."
Chuck nodded. "One more thing," he added. "Am I supposed to call you Ava now? The girls said you called yourself that, and Newt said it was your real name...so do I have to call you that now?"
Darn it. Of course the truth behind her name would unravel as the two groups met. However, Chuck's words implied something else...
"Call me Trace," she responded. "And does that mean you guys were talking about me? Why were you talking about me? What did you say? Who was talking about me?"
Sonya was the one who answered. "They thought you were dead when you weren't with us," she said. "We told them we hadn't seen you since we went through the Flat Trans, though to be completely honest, we thought you'd been killed as well."
Trace looked around the group and saw that each expression supported what Sonya had said; they all looked a little astounded to see Trace alive.
"Well, I'm here," she announced, holding her arms out as if she might curtsey. "Definitely not dead. Not even a little bit. Okay, maybe a little bit, deep down inside, but I'm here."
"Trace?"
Thomas' voice came through from the back of the group, and only then did Trace realise how much she'd missed it. "Tomato?" she asked. He came pushing through, followed by Aris and Terriblesa.
"About time you shanks showed up," Minho snarked. "What? You two decide not to kill him after all? Was it all a big misunderstanding?"
Trace really admired Minho's use of sarcasm. It was a real art.
"No," Thomas said. "It's a long story, but they're on our side. Trust me."
Trace snorted.
"I thought as much," Minho replied with a roll of his eyes. "I'd love to hear it, but we only have enough time for one story today, and Trace was here first."
Thomas nodded. "I thought you were dead," he said to Trace.
Trace shook her head. "Not dead. Just adventuring."
"What happened?" Newt muttered to her. He shuffled a little closer.
Trace sighed and reached her hand up to run it through her hair. It got stuck and she considered pretending she intended to keep it there. Instead, she reached up with her other hand and untangled it from the matted mess that it was. Minho looked on in minor disgust.
"Sit down," she directed those who were still standing. "It's storytime."
There was a lot of shuffling and manoeuvring of equipment. Someone yelled 'ow' and one girl fell directly on top of another. Eventually, though, they all found a seat.
"I waited," Trace began, trying to collect her thoughts as she spoke. "After the girls went through the Flat Trans, I waited. Within minutes, Ratman appeared."
"She calls him Ratman too," Thomas whispered, elbowing Minho. Newt shushed him.
"He turned up just as he did with the rest of the group there. I sassed him out, he cried a bit-"
"Probably not true," Newt added.
"Very true," Trace continued. "And then he told me to do the Scorch Trials and I was all like 'no way, Mr Rodent', and he was like 'then die' and I was like 'okay I'll do it, don't get your knickers in a twist'."
"How much of that actually happened?" Emilia asked- oh hey, Emilia- with a sly grin on her face.
"I would estimate about 87%," Trace replied. "Possibly more. Anyway, so I made some cool weapons out of ceiling tiles and bed slats because you guys took all the best stuff when you ran away so selfishly..."
"We didn't run away!" Charlene scoffed. "We wanted you to come with us."
"Yeah, well, anyway, I went through the Flat Trans and ended up in the dark. I found a wall, walked a lot, heard your voices," she said, directing that last part at Group A. "But you weren't there; it was an illusion or something."
"Strange," Harriet pondered.
"Yeah, tell me about it," Trace rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I found my way outside and fought a naked man-"
"You fought a naked man?"
"Yes, Nut. I fought a naked man. He fought me first so it was his fault."
"What happened to him?"
"He died of nudity."
"Of nudity?"
"No, he died of death. I killed him. He was a Crank with no eyes and he tried to kill me. Can we stop talking about naked men now?"
Newt nodded and waved his hand dismissively. Trace continued.
"Then I headed towards the mountains. I came up with two hit songs on the way, so if anyone's interested you can ask me about that later..."
"We're good thanks," Chuck, the sassy child, responded.
"Suit yourself, Chuckles. After a day or two, I found a town. A mining village."
She wasn't going to tell them about Rose. Not yet. She'd tell them later- those who she wanted to tell. She knew if she talked about Rose in front of the group she'd probably break down, and she couldn't afford to do that before another battle.
"I found some food there, stayed a night and kept going. Then a gang found me."
"A gang? As in...a gang?"
"Yes, Tomato," Trace sighed. "A gang. The Silencers, they called themselves, although they talked a lot and did a lot of kicking, so their name wasn't very appropriate. Anyway, they took me to their base, in a nearby city. I got a tattoo."
"Seriously?" Teresa asked, obviously unable to help herself.
"Shut up, Teresa," Trace shot back. "I got a tattoo. What did you get? Rejected?"
Minho snorted and even Thomas smirked a little.
"As I was saying, I got a better tattoo, so that I am no longer 'The Fraud'; I am 'The Flame'."
"Woah," someone murmured.
"Yes, yes. Be impressed, for I am now cool because I got a tattoo from a dangerous gang. Anyway, here's the real kicker. You're not going to believe this...I saw Ben."
"What?!" Minho shouted. "He's dead."
"What do you mean?" Newt frowned. "He died in the maze."
"Well, no." Trace shook her head and furrowed her brow. "We only assumed he did; we never actually found him, did we? But I was just as surprised as you are now, trust me. He was hanging out with the leader of this gang; I reckon WICKED was behind it."
Thomas sighed. "That's hardly a surprise any more."
"You're darn right it isn't. So Ben's all like 'please die', because he still thinks I'm gonna ruin everything, which is only a little bit true. One of the gang members takes pity on me and helps me escape but taking me underground, but gets shot on the way out, so then it's just me again."
And Rose, she added internally. Just the two of us.
"The rest of the gang came after me, so I did a little thing where basically I just killed them."
"You killed a gang?" Charlene was amazed.
"Yeah. Well, my knife did. I just did the holding and jabbing."
"Right."
"Wait," Minho interrupted. "So Ben was alive and then you killed him?"
"Well it sounds bad when you put it that way."
"I think murder sounds bad most ways you put it."
"Just carry on, Trace," Harriet urged.
So Trace did.
"In the tunnels I saw some members of another gang. The Corpse Collectors." Trace shuddered at the name. "The Silencers told me about them. This gang is a little closer to the Gone, and aren't so convinced that letting people live is a good idea."
"But didn't the Silencers want to kill you anyway?" Harriet asked.
"Yes, but they held a meeting. They talked about it. The Corpse Collectors do no such thing. They just kill with whatever they can find."
"Oh."
"Yeah. And they saw me escape. I made my way out to the Scorch again, but then a thunderstorm hit. Lightning came down."
Minho winced. "We might have experienced the same one."
"Mhm. And I was out in the open. Only then did the Corpse Collectors come after me in their car. But the lightning did a nice thing for me and killed them."
Only it wasn't nice. Not at all. That lightning killed Rose too.
Newt had sensed there was something that Trace wasn't sharing, but he remained quiet, instead just staring at her with concern.
"They died?" Chuck asked. "In the lightning?"
"Mhm," Trace confirmed. "All of them. Well, not all of them, but I'll get to that. Actually, I'll get to that right now, because after another day of walking, they sent another car after me."
"Bloody hell," Newt muttered.
"Bloody hell, indeed. Bloody hell, indeed," Trace affirmed. "They had weapons. They hit me with baseball bats."
"That would explain the black eye," Newt said pointedly.
That was the first Trace had heard of such a thing. "I have a black...? Anyway, I fought back with my knife but one of them hit me with a brick..."
"A brick?!" Newt squeaked. Clearly Trace's storytelling was keeping him on edge.
"Yeah, it was so rude. Rudest thing anyone's ever done to me. Except send me to the Scorch on my own; that was pretty rude too."
"Where'd they hit you?" Thomas asked.
Trace rolled her leg over and pointed to her calf. "Oh that's a bit gross," she said, examining the bruise, now such a dark purple that it was practically black. "Don't get hit with bricks, kids," she added. Nobody laughed.
Newt's eyes were wide and he shared a look with Minho. Trace didn't even want to know what they were thinking; she had enough to worry about as it was.
"Then I climbed into their car and drove off," she continued.
Chuck laughed.
"...I ran some of them over. Then one of them threw a brick through the windscreen and I was like 'um, don't'. Then some of them climbed into the car so I got out like a smart girl and went to the bonnet. One of them hit me with a bat then and dislocated my shoulder, which was so shucking rude; it still makes me angry. So I set the fuel tank on fire."
"You what?!"
"I used a battery from my torch to spark a fire in the fuel tank. Then I ran."
"Probably a smart idea," Thomas admitted. Of course he appreciated the running.
"I thought so myself," Trace agreed. "Then I fell asleep and had a dream and you guys were racing cars."
"What kind of cars?" Minho asked.
"Fast ones that bounced," Trace responded.
From the look on Minho's face, that wasn't the response he'd wanted.
"They went fast," she added, before getting on with the actual story. "Then I put my shoulder back where it should've always been and never left, and continued on my way. Now I'm here."
The group was silent. Thomas looked like he had a lot of questions to ask; so, in other words, Thomas looked like he always did. Newt shook his head in disbelief and Minho reached out for a high-five. Trace returned it.
"Wow," Chuck said, finally. "I wish I was as cool as Trace."
"We all do," Thomas replied.
We can't all be Thomases, she thought, the words echoing through her mind. But you're pretty darn good at being a Trace.