Trace awoke early the next day. Thankfully, before any of the others did.
Great. She did not want to go to the Slammer without a fight; she didn't choose to go into the maze, so why should she be punished for something she couldn't control?
Obviously, she knew she'd end up there eventually; she just thought she'd have a little fun first.
Or a lot of fun. Yes, preferably that.
She climbed out of bed with as much grace as she could manage (very little) and snuck her way out of the Homestead. From there, she formed her plan.
She couldn't hide in the Deadheads; that was too obvious. They'd expect her to hide there.
She couldn't hide in the maze; she wasn't that stupid.
Okay, maybe she was that stupid but the doors weren't even open yet so that wasn't happening.
She couldn't hide in the Homestead either; the others would find her right away.
Suddenly, the perfect plan formed in her mind: the box hole. The box was still there; it hadn't gone down since Teresa's arrival, and nobody would expect to find her there. Plus, she could throw a sack over her head and pretend to be a bag of potatoes or something inconspicuous.
It might just work.
She sprinted over to the centre of the Glade, bypassing Frypan's kitchen on the way to grab an empty woven sack. Then she opened the metal doors of the box and jumped down, shutting them behind her.
"Perfect," she said, sitting down and scooting back into the corner before gently placing the empty potato sack over her head.
Within seconds, she heard a noise. A noise from very nearby. The shuffling of feet.
Then a voice.
"What are you doing?"
She had to remain silent. There was no doubt the person was addressing her, but she had to keep up the façade, just in case.
"I said, 'what are you bloody doing down there, Ace?'"
Newt. Of course she would be the one to ruin her plan.
"Shh. Go away," she mumbled from beneath the sack, but her words were muffled.
"What? I can't bloody hear you with that potato sack over your head."
"Nut," she sighed. "I am a potato sack. Leave me alone before the others arrive."
She could hear the smile on his face as he spoke. "If you think this will get you out of your punishment, think again."
"I can't think. I'm potatoes. Besides, how did you find me?"
"You're a loud person. I heard you leaving the Homestead in a rush."
Trace huffed out a breath in frustration; she thought she'd been more than stealthy.
"I'm the boss of the Glade. Get out now."
Trace froze in shock and peeled the bag away from her face to look up at him. To see if he was joking or not.
"Did you just call yourself the 'boss of the Glade'?" she asked, incredulous.
"Sure did."
"Well, I apologise, your highness, but you're not 'the boss', you're the 'Leader'."
Newt smirked. "What's the difference? I can still tell you what to do."
"I suppose that's true," Trace admitted, forming another plan in her mind. "Can you open the doors?"
YOU ARE READING
Subject A250: The Fangirl (COMPLETED)
Fanfiction--Book one in the Subject A250 series-- She's read the books. She's seen the movies. She knows all there is to know about the storyline. Except for her role in it.
