Subject A250: The Flame (COMPLETED)

Thirty-Seven: I Kneed You

A/N: Sorry it's a bit short (but actually longer than the equivalent TST chapter so that's an accomplishment)

Also this song is amazing and only has 40,000ish views on Youtube so apparently people don't like great music.

The man had taken three steps before Thomas fought back. He slammed into his knees, knocking him to the ground. Teresa reached out and grabbed hold of Brenda before she could fall towards the open edge. Thomas placed one arm across the guy's throat while the other fumbled to take the gun that had fallen to the floor. He found it and pressed it to the man's forehead. It was all quite efficient. Trace believed if she'd tried to do the same, she would've bounced back off the guy, failed to knock him over, and tumbled back off the edge of the Berg, so she was glad Thomas took this one for the team.

"No one else dies," Thomas breathed, staring intently at the man. Trace folded her arms across her chest in an attempt to join the intimidation parade.

"If we haven't done enough to pass your stupid tests, then we fail. The tests are over."

This was the Thomas that Trace loved. The one that did things; not the one who asked things.

The man smiled a little and moved back so that he sat against the wall. Trace glared at him.

"My name's David," he said, more composed. "And don't worry, you're right. It's over. It's all over."

Trace had had enough. She stepped forward and kneed the guy- David- in the face.

"What the hell!" he yelled, holding a hand to his nose. Someone let out a shocked gasp behind her.

Trace squatted down beside him, stopping when she reached eye-level . "You're a liar, David," she said. "Don't think any of us believe you. Not even for one second."

"I'm not lying; it's over!"

Trace frowned and shook her head. "No, it's not. And I don't appreciate your little smirk either; you're responsible for the death of so many innocent children. I don't think that's anything worth smirking about, you sick slinthead."

"I didn't kill them; the trials did."

Trace stood up quicker than she'd thought possible and kneed him in the face again.

"Hey!" he cried. "I'm telling you; it's over!"

Trace reared back to strike again but someone grabbed her from behind to stop her. They pulled her away.

"Trace, this isn't helping."

"Shut up, Tomato. It's helping me. A lot."

"It's helping me, too," Minho butted in.

"This is great therapy," Charlene agreed,

"No," Thomas said, silencing them all. "Let him speak. He might be telling the truth."

"I can tell you right now that he's not," Trace scoffed, but she left it at that. She might as well let this man say his stupid little speech and get it over with.

"Alright," said Thomas. "Convince us."

"It's like I said: no more trials, no more lies, no more setups. No more pretending..."

Trace snorted.

"All I can promise is that when you hear why we've put you through this, and why it's so important that so many of you survived, you'll understand. I promise you'll understand."

"I would retract that promise right now if I were you." Trace glared at him. "Because that is not going to happen."

Minho agreed with her. "That is the biggest bunch of klunk I've ever heard in my life."

Thomas was hellbent on getting as much info out of this guy as he could. "And what about the cure? For us, and for the two we brought with us. You made a promise. How are we supposed to believe you now, after everything you've put us through."

The man wiped a smear of blood from his nose. "Think what you want," he said, glancing at Trace, "but from now on, things will change-"

"That sounds familiar," Trace mused, shooting a not-so-subtle glare in Teresa's direction.

The man ignored her. "You'll get the cure. You can keep that gun too. In fact, we'll give you more if you like."

"Yes please," Trace said with a polite nod. Somebody elbowed her.

"There's nothing more for you to fight against now. No trials or tests to ignore or refuse. Our Berg will land, you'll see that you're safe and cured, and then you can do what you want. The only thing we'll ever ask you to do again is listen. Just listen. I'm sure you're at least intrigued by what's behind all this?"

"No more games," Thomas confirmed. The man shook his head.

"First sign of trouble," Minho added, "we start fighting. If that means we die, then so be it."

David smiled. It was a repulsive sight; the blood from his nose still dripped down to his chin. "You know, that's exactly what we predicted you'd do at this point." He stood up and marched towards a door, leading to the interior of the Berg. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards their next location.

"What's next on the bloody agenda?" Newt frowned. It only just occurred to Trace that he now had the Flare. Definitely. With a sinking feeling, she realised that there was no going back from here. She couldn't prevent him from getting it if he already had it. WICKED had made sure she had no part in stopping him from being infected.

"We thought you might like something to eat?" David asked. "A shower, perhaps? A rest?"

A rest sounded great. More than great. It sounded miraculous.

"It's a very long flight," he explained.

They filed through to the next room, too tired to resist any more. It was only then that Trace began to figure out who was missing...