Scorched

Chapter 1: Arrival

          I was in a cage. I was in the metal cage that had brought me to the Glade. The cage was moving fast and faster than I remember it being. But there was no stopping on this journey. It just kept moving upward faster and faster. In my mind, I knew my name, nothing more. But there was always this image of a lady, Ava Paige, saying "Wicked is Good", three words over and over. She kept saying them, and the Box never stopped. And then every single thing that happened to me in the Glade rushed to my head. Gally, Chuck, Frypan's Bacon, my brother Newt, my boyfriend Thomas, and the Grievers. Every single detail came flooding back to me. It was horrible, terrifying, and too much pain for me to handle-

"Bridgette! Get up!" I heard someone yell. I opened my eyes to see that it was Thomas, ushering for me to get out of the helicopter. I quickly grabbed the small statue that was next to me, and jumped out of the helicopter.

People were shooting at what they called Cranks, whatever they were, as I ran towards a building with a giant door.

As I ran in as the last person, the giant doors were closing, locking the shooting people outside the giant place.

I glanced around and it looked like we were standing in a giant wear house.

"Where are we?" I asked, glancing at my fellow Gladers.

             They all shrugged.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were all in a room talking, asking ourselves where we were. But soon, the door to the room opened and a man in a white suit came in.

"Hello, I hope we got you here safely," He said walking in the room.

"Who are you? What is this place? Why are we-" I asked him, my arms folded.

"Now, now, let me introduce myself and show you around. You can call me Mr. Janson." He smiled.

I rolled my eyes.

"Would you like to see this place or stay here?" Mr. Janson asked.

"I don't know. I think I'd prefer to stay here," I hissed.

Mr. Janson smiled, looking as if he was going to laugh. "Your very funny, Bridgette. But I'm sure you and the others would rather be safe from Wicked than here in this room," He laughed.

"Safe from Wicked?" Thomas asked.

"Yes, we can keep you safe from Wicked. I'd assume that you would want to be as far away from the people that tortured you," Mr. Janson said.

Janson smiled. "Let me show you around."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So here, we try and give you a home that would've been much like your own before Wicked took you into testing," Janson said.

"So you replace our homes?" Thomas asked.

"A home of sorts. Unfortunately, your original homes were destroyed in the Scorch, but we try to keep it as close to your homes as possible," Janson said, opening a door.

         "Behind this door is where your new life begins," He said. "But first, let's get rid of that smell."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

         The warm water brushed over me, and it felt like one of the Grievers had stung me. The memory of the Maze, of Alby, of Gally...of Chuck, it all just stayed in my head. The water didn't wash them away as I'd hoped.

          I turned the water off, staring at the wall of the shower for a second before grabbing the towel and drying myself off.

         I stepped out of the shower, looking at the clothes they gave me. I noticed the color of the shirt. Light blue, just like the one I had worn in the Glade.  I pushed the memories away, and got dressed.

            After combing my hair, drying it, and putting the light brown boots that reached my knees on, I walked out to join the others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

          They treated me with the necessary things that I was deprived of in the Glade. I was stuck with needles probably five times.

          "Bridgette," A man said and he walked over to me. I looked up and glared. "Come with me please." He spoke.

           I got up, and walked away with him, looking back at Thomas who looked questioning the man.

            He led me to a room with one metal table, two chairs, and giant mirror on the wall.

           I sat down in the one chair, looking around the room, alone.

          I heard the door squeak open after a minute or two, and I looked up from the floor to see Janson.

          "Hello, Bridgette. I'm happy you could meet me on such short notice," Janson said, walking in, sitting across from me in the other chair.

          I didn't reply, but he continued.

          "I have one question for you," He said. "What do you remember about Wicked?"

           I stared at the thin man in the white shirt for a moment before replying.

          "I remember working for Wicked, but they sent me into the Maze anyway." I spoke.

           Janson nodded. "So you worked for Wicked?"

          "Why does it matter?" I asked.

           "Because I want to see what side your on." Janson said, looking at me in the eyes.

            "I watched my friends die. There is no way in bloody hell that I would be on their side." I said gritting my teeth.

             "I see. But you worked with them, you say, but they sent you into the Maze anyway. Why?" Janson asked, his expression a confused puzzle.

           "I don't know, but maybe you can ask them yourself." I said, squinting my eyes to a glare.

            Janson smiled at the thought, before getting up from his chair and walking towards the door.

            "Thank you, Bridgette. You can go join your brother and boyfriend and of course the others in the cafeteria. I'm sure you'd like to meet everyone else," Janson said.

           "Others? What do you mean by others?" I asked, and all Janson did was smile.