Our W.I.C.K.E.D Fate (The W.I.C.K.E.D Girl sequel)

4

After a long time of dragging their feet through the thick dunes of sand and avoiding the skeletons of former buildings, the group of four arrived in front of some sort of dilapidated house. It still had its roof on, despite cracks marring the walls and the windows being almost entirely shattered.

Passing through a corridor, Emily, Newt, Minho and Isabelle stepped into a room where two boys lay on the wooden floor. One seemed to be around thirteen years of age, the other about sixteen. When they heard the sound of footsteps, more than had left initially, their heads snapped towards the small group. Emily was greeted by the same reaction Newt and Minho had displayed upon taking her in—the boys' eyes widened, their mouths agape as they abandoned whatever they'd been previously occupying themselves with.

"Emily!" the younger boy shouted and ran up to the girl. Before she could prevent it, he captured her in a tight embrace, his head below her chest. Emily was on the verge of pushing him away when the possibility of him being one of the people she forgot—or was compelled to forget—dawned on her. She allowed him to squeeze her lower half without returning the gesture. He raised his confused gaze to meet hers. "Emily?"

"She doesn't remember who you are," said Newt placidly.

Emily looked down at the now frowning boy, her eyes filled with sympathy. "He's right. I'm sorry," she said and backed away from the small boy.

"I'm Chuck, I. . ." he started, but his voice faltered.

The older boy, whose gaze had been hopeful at the beginning, was toying with his ripped backpack, blinking back tears that nobody had noticed. The tension in the room was almost palpable as Emily took in her surroundings. Before anyone could speak, a girl popped out of another room. Her blond hair was dirty and tied up in a ponytail, but she appeared to be in a better state than both Emily and Isabelle combined in spite of the smears of dirt on her face and neck.

"Hey," she greeted with a soft smile, drawing closer. "I'm Ella."

She extended a hand for Emily to shake. Instead of doing so, Emily stared at Ella's hand until the girl lowered it.

"Emily," she said coolly. "That's my sister, Isabelle."

The new arrivals sat, removing their backpacks. Everyone regarded them.

"Do you know anything about a Group A?" Emily asked, breaking the silence.

Newt drew in a sharp breath. Minho rubbed his face as if trying to awaken himself from a nightmare.

"We were Group A when we were part of the experiment. That's what we were called, anyway. I'm Thomas," the boy who hadn't spoken explained.

"And who called you that?"

Thomas cleared his throat. "W.I.C.K.E.D."

Emily nodded, keeping her features neutral. They remembered her and she couldn't and it made her furious. They'd known each other, once, and now she was supposed to kill them.

As she sipped from the water bottle, Emily glanced at Newt and Ella, huddled in the corner of the small house. The blonde was leaning towards the boy, her hand on his shoulder. Emily had to stifle a scoff.

She and Isabelle talked for a while in hushed tones, during which she noticed multiple things. First, Newt seemed unable to peel his eyes away from her. Second, everyone looked as if they were mourning. Third, Ella also peeked at her now and then, but her eyes held something different than the boys'. Emily clenched her fists and decided to go speak to Thomas, the other boy her age. After a while, they slipped outside.

They were sitting on the cold sand when Emily let her first question roll off her tongue. "Hey, Thomas, were all of you in Group A?"

"No, we found Ella a couple of weeks ago. She'd survived the Flare."

Emily nodded, her eyes unfocused. "I see." She turned her gaze skyward, glanced at the tiny freckles of light scattered across the night sky. "They're beautiful," she said.

Thomas laughed, lying beside her. "Yeah. You used to like stargazing back when we all knew each other, too."

His words made Emily's jaw clench with something that could've been a number of emotions. They continued talking for what seemed like hours; she wasn't tired and neither was Thomas, who told her about his and the Group's life before her unexpected return, making sure to leave out the parts in which they only talked about her, knowing that it would hurt her even more.

"You know," Emily began, considering the words she was about to say, "I don't remember on what terms we were, but I think we got along pretty well."

Thomas smiled at that. They kept laughing and studying the stars, unaware that behind them, leaning in the door frame that lacked a door, Newt watched them.

She might have forgotten us, but we haven't, he thought, jealousy stabbing at him, before gritting his teeth and walking away.

* * *

"The plan is going as expected. She has no recollection of Group A and they will not tell her. The mission will succeed," one of the scientists in the white room said.

"She seems to be getting close to Subject A2," another one remarked.

"Shall we take him out?" inquired a third.

"Not yet. I want to see her develop with every one of them until she kills them," Ava Paige replied. "Plus, we have a spy among them. It'll tell us everything we need to know."