You must have walked for a few more hours before anyone even felt remotely safe. Once you'd put a fair bit of distance between your group and theirs, Harriet announced a break.

"Try to get a few hours of sleep at least!" she called, slumping against a wall and stretching her legs out in front of her. You did the same, and James positioned himself a ways away from you. You shot him a confused look and he just brushed it off and lay down on his back, clasping his hands behind his head, looking more relaxed than anyone should in a place like that.

It was too cold to take off your sweatshirt to use as a pillow, so you settled for tipping your head back against the damp wall. It was cold, and water dripped onto your back, but you decided it was better than laying on the ground.

You eventually drifted off to sleep listening to the surrounding snores of the other girls -- and one guy.

When Sonya shook you awake, you jerked up immediately. Everyone ate a quick breakfast (the food was dwindling now, and was packed into only a few sheets. The rest were either taken by girls to use as blankets, crude shawls, or had flown off somewhere) and moved on quickly. There was little conversation, and you were pretty much left alone while you ate to wrestle with your thoughts.

You hadn't even begun to consider what to do once your group found Thomas and carried out what Janson had ordered. Or how Newt or any of the other Gladers would react to seeing you alive.

They all thought you were dead.

Newt thinks you're dead.

It hit you like a ton of bricks, and you glared at the other half of your granola bar. You were really starting to get sick of the things. They tasted like cardboard now.

You remembered when you'd first woken up with Group B in that messed up little room. How a stale granola bar had tasted like the best thing on Earth.

It all seemed like another lifetime ago.

Maybe it was.

"Pack it up!" Sonya called suddenly, standing up.

James had already pointed out the entrance and ladder that you would be taking back up to ground level, and, according to him, it would only take another hour or so to reach it.

You fell into step behind two girls and in front of Harriet, who didn't even glance up at you as you passed. You stared at the ground as you walked, listening to the quiet conversations and echoing footsteps of the group. Anticipation rose in your chest. You wanted to get out of here. To breath fresh air again. To see real light that wouldn't cast eerie shadows on the ground wherever you stood.

Thinking about being outside again almost made the walk bearable. Enjoyable, even. You pictured seeing the Gladers again, playing different scenarios in your head, all of which ended with a group hug -- though you knew that would probably be the last thing to happen.

The next time you met up, you'd be kidnapping Thomas.

"We're almost there," a voice sounded, and you almost jumped out of your skin. Teresa came up behind you, and you shifted to the left to make room for her to walk next to you.

"Almost where?" 

She furrowed her eyebrows and looked at you. "To Thomas." Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn't react, just nodded slowly and didn't say anything. "What's he gonna say?" she asked, barely above a whisper. When you gave her a confused look, she continued. "When we get to him -- how do you think he's gonna react?"

"He'll... probably be really confused." 

Teresa opened her mouth, then closed it, as if she wanted to say something, but thought better of it. You looked at the ground again, not wanting to push. "I don't want to do it," she hissed suddenly. You glanced back up at her. Her eyes were watering, and she looked sadder than you'd ever seen her before. "He's my best friend. I don't wanna do it."

"I thought you said he'd done horrible things to you." You said quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear the conversation. "You hated him."

"I don't hate him. I miss him. He's my best friend." She sounded close to tears.

Where was this coming from?

"But what are you-" you were cut off as James called for everyone to stop.

"We're here!" he shouted. You were near the front, and could just barely see the top of his head behind a line of girls standing in front of you. "Single file please!"

He wasted no time in herding the girls to the ladder and sending them straight up, instructing the first girl to push off the manhole cover at the top. As soon as she did this, light flooded the narrow tunnel, and you instinctively covered your face with your hands. By the time your eyes had adjusted, and you could manage without feeling like your eyelids would burn off, it was your turn to climb up. You grabbed onto the rusted metal rungs and pulled yourself off the ground, reaching for the next handle and using your feet to push your body higher. You couldn't help but remember the last time you'd done this -- when those flying death balls attacked three people and killed them by cutting their heads off. You shuddered and sped up, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible.

When you reached the final rung, you stuck your hands out and grabbed the hands offered to you. The next thing you knew, you were laying on your stomach, in a heap of boiling sand. You jumped up quickly, suppressing a yelp, and peeled the front of your shirt away from your already sweaty chest.

You'd forgotten how intense the heat was. Though the sun was just beginning to rise, it felt like you'd just stumbled accidentally into an oven.

Once every girl had been hauled up and accounted for, the group set off again, this time with Teresa in the lead. You thought about what she's said, and how Thomas was close. You didn't know whether you were ready to see him again or not.

Reminder: He still thought you were dead.

"We're almost there!" Teresa called to the crowd, and you shivered, despite the unbearable heat that surrounded you like a thick fog. At this point, you wanted to melt into the ground and disappear forever.

Thomas couldn't see you like this.

Newt couldn't see you like this.

In front of you, a large mountain range stretched out for miles, looming over you like a huge shadow. They seemed to just kind of appear up from the ground, growing bigger and bigger until they covered the horizon completely. You stared up in awe -- until a girl yelled that she'd spotted something.

Lots of somethings.

You didn't know whether to be happy or scared.

Sure enough, a group of figures, far off in the distance, back the way you had come, shimmered in the heat waves radiating off the ground.

"It's Thomas!"

"Is that the guy we're supposed to capture?"

"Yes, idiot! Get your bow ready!"

"Shut up!" Teresa hissed, spinning around to point her spear at the girls in front. "Stop talking! We can't mess this up." They stared at her with wide eyes and didn't say anything.

The sky was turning lighter, and the sun was getting brighter. The heat more intense. You wiped beads of sweat off your forehead and shifted your weight from one foot to the other. Your shoes just sunk further into the sand.

"What's this?" someone piped up after a long while. Every head turned to a girl standing way in the back, holding up what looked like a large brown blanket.

"A... sack?"

At the sound of this, Teresa turned immediately and stalked over to her, reaching out to snatch the it away. She inspected it, then moved back to the front, stopping briefly in front of Harriet and shoving it at her.

"Take it," she muttered. "We're gonna put it over Thomas's head." Harriet raised an eyebrow, but only nodded, tucked her knife away, and grabbed the burlap sack, tucking it under her arm.

Now, the group was so close, you could almost vaguely see their facial features. You didn't let yourself search the faces for Newt's.

Teresa waited to move forward until you could hear the crunching of their footsteps as they trudged through the sand. Then, she leaped forward all at once, walking straight at them, her spear held out in front of her like she expected one of the boys to spring on her at any second.

Silence followed, and you held your breath, unable to see what was going on over the large sand dune that Teresa had gone over. You could imagine their faces.

Then, Harriet moved forward, and the crowd of girls followed, each clutching their weapons tightly, faces hardened. You held your sword low at your side, bowing your head.

Maybe they wouldn't recognize you.

Teresa stopped walking about thirty feet or so in front of the group of Gladers, and you stopped beside her. The rest of the girls walked all the way around until they formed a complete circle around the boys. Finally, you forced yourself to look up and instantly regretted it.

Thomas started you right in the face, his gaze flitting between you and Teresa. He looked hurt. And sad. And confused.

All at once, every girl that held a bow raised it up, aiming sharp arrows at a few random boys. You gulped and flashed Thomas a look that you hoped said I'm so sorry.

"What's this crap about Teresa? Nice way to greet your long-lost buddies." a guy shouted at her. Minho. You wanted to cry. "And... (Y/N)? Is that really you? What the hell are you doing?"

For the first time, you noticed a brown-haired girl standing next to Thomas. She glanced at him, and he nodded quickly at her. No one spoke, and both groups were consumed by an uncomfortable silence. You glanced around at the Gladers out of the corner of your eye, and all at once you felt your spine turn to ice.

Newt was staring right at you, and his expression was heartbreaking.

You couldn't react. You couldn't say anything. You couldn't even flash him an apologetic look.

Teresa moved forward suddenly, walking until she was only about ten feet away from the group. Ten feet away from where Newt and Minho stood side by side, speechless and staring.

"Teresa," Newt started. "What the bloody-"

"Shut up." Teresa cut him off. Her voice was icily calm, and quite frankly, it scared you. Newt looked taken aback and Minho just raised his eyebrows. "If any of you makes a move, the bows start shooting." Teresa raised her spear and swept it out in front of her as she pushed past Minho and Newt, sweeping through the Gladers. You knew that she was looking for Thomas, and had probably already spotted him towards the back of the group.

She paused when she came to the brown-haired girl standing beside Thomas. They glared at each other but didn't say anything, and Teresa brushed past her without a second glance.

"Teresa," Thomas whispered quickly as she came to a halt in front of him. Teresa looked angrier now that you'd ever seen her, staring readily into her friend's face like she was about to throw her spear right at him.

You thought back to what she'd said about not wanting to do it. About Thomas being her best friend. Maybe she really didn't want to do it.

"Teresa, what's-"

"Shut up." 

You gripped your sword tighter and stared at the ground, unable to look at Thomas any longer. The hurt on his face was agonizing. "But what-"

In one swift movement, Teresa reared back and smashed the butt of her spear into his cheek. You gawked at her as Thomas crumpled to the ground, clutching the side of his face. Her expression hardened, and she shook her head slightly like she was disappointed.

"I said shut up." She bent down and grabbed the collar of his shirt, jerking him to his feet. He still clutched his cheek but said nothing, just stared her down. "Is your name Thomas?" You widened your eyes. Thomas gaped at her and took a few seconds to respond.

"You know who I-" Teresa swung her spear towards him with no warning, making contact right on the side of his head. Thomas let out a cry of pain and brought his hands to the wound, but stayed shakily on his feet. "You know who I am!" he screamed. Teresa looked almost disgusted and released her grip on his shirt, taking a few steps away from him.

"I used to anyway," she said quietly, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "Now I'm going to ask you one more time. Is your name Thomas?"

"Yes!" he spat. "My name is Thomas!" As if that was all the assurance she needed, Teresa nodded and backed off until there was enough space between them to stretch her spear out and point it at his chest.

"You're coming with us!" she called to the rest of the Gladers, tearing her gaze away from Thomas and sweeping it over the two groups with conviction. "Thomas, come on. Remember, anyone tries something, the arrows fly."