You'd been walking for quite a while by the time someone noticed Aris had disappeared.

"Maybe a Crank got him."

"Maybe he got lost."

"I'll bet the sissy was too scared to come any further."

Minho just shrugged and told everybody to continue walking.

Aris.

That was the name of the boy who Harriet had been looking for what you first met her. You'd caught quick glimpses of him mixed into the crowd back when you'd first been reunited, but not enough to paint a clear mental picture of what he looked like.

You trudged on, letting out a silent sigh of relief whenever a gust of chilling wind would pass and you had a few moments of dry, dusty air. You didn't let yourself look up again, not wanting to see the barren stretch of ground that you had struggled for so long to get to. It was disheartening, to say the least.

About half an hour later, someone spotted a group of people heading down the mountain, and you felt your heart lift. You wanted to believe Thomas was okay -- and you knew you shouldn't have let yourself hope that he was, but you couldn't help it.

Minho had changed the Glader's direction at some point, so you would meet Thomas's group halfway. Once the figures had reached the bottom of the mountain, they took off running, obviously struggling against the wind. As they got closer, you could make out Harriet's figure, who was a little ways ahead of the rest of the group. She reached you five minutes later.

"(Y/N)!" she called, sliding to a halt and bending over her knees, sucking in labored breaths. "We'd thought you'd gotten lost or something! Glad to see you're still alive." 

You shrugged and shot her a grateful smile. "Same to you."

"Guys?" you heard Minho call, but the rest was drowned out by another bone-chilling gust of wind that felt like it blew right through you. "We're here!" 

You turned back to him and quickly stumbled over, straining to see over a few taller boys in the front. Among them was Newt, and he scooted over so you could get a look. When you finally did see what everyone was crowding around, your world felt like it was crashing down around you.

On a stick, hammered into the sand, was a little black ribbon, orange lettering streaked across one side. You reread it a few times, never quite believing what it actually said, and desperately hoping you were wrong.

Safe Haven.

"It can't be..." someone muttered.

"This is the Safe Haven?"

"What are we supposed to do now?"

"Are we stuck here?"

"Shut it!" Minho yelled, shooting glares at the surrounding Gladers. "There's no use whinin' about it like a bunch of babies!" The crowd fell silent, and you looked at the ground, the flag blowing violently out of the corner of your eye. "Why don't we let this Harriet chick explain what she's doing here?" With that, he stepped back and let Harriet take his place in front of the Gladers.

"Listen up you sticks!" she shouted.

Sticks?

"We've brought back your friend, alive and in one piece, so there's no need to fight any longer! We just did what WICKED told us to do, and that was that!"

A few people jeered, and she just shot them a hardened glare. They promptly fell silent.

"Why'd you take him in the first place?" someone asked. Harriet shook her head.

"I told you -- we just did what WICKED instructed us to do, which was take Thomas to some weird chamber and throw him in. It was either him or my whole group and I made an executive decision."

With that, she stepped back into the crowd, and you turned to follow her with your gaze. The large group of girls had arrived and was spreading out, melting into the crowd of boys.

"It's about time you slowpokes caught up with us!" Minho yelled at Thomas, who you saw smile as he came into view. Minho walked over to him and clapped him on the back as he doubled over to catch his breath.

More people were beginning to gather around the Safe Haven Stick, and you walked back over to get a better look, Thomas, and Minho following after a minute.

As Thomas stared at the thing, he dropped to his knees and slowly reached to touch the ribbon, which now looked just about ready to tear off and fly away. You saw Teresa peeking over his shoulder, and instantly froze.

"Thomas, what's she-"

"She's with us," he muttered, obviously only half listening. You knew what he was thinking.

You'd come all this way, safely, to a stick.

"They have a reason, I'm sure," you said quietly, reassuringly patting his back. Thomas didn't answer but stood up, his face contorted in anger. Minho walked closer, Teresa right beside him. You moved out of the way, deciding to give them some space.

You walked over to where Newt was standing, talking to Frypan and two girls whom you'd never spoken a word to. He smiled when he spotted you, and beckoned for you to come over.

"I'm sure WICKED has something up their sleeve," he was saying. "They wouldn't send us here to risk our lives to leave us here and never come back." You nodded doubtfully.

"But where are they then? There's less than an hour till our time's completely up." Frypan glanced back at the mountains, then at Newt, bushy eyebrows scrunched together worriedly. You nodded and glanced back up at Newt, who had followed Frypan's gaze out back the way they had come. He seemed to be deliberating something.

"I know they'll come," he said sternly. "This can't just all be for nothing." You shared his desperation and hated WICKED now more than ever.

They couldn't do this. They couldn't just drop kids into a desert infested with zombies and a limited food supply, and then just leave everyone for dead. It didn't make any sense.

"Maybe we should be more focused on finding shelter from this storm," you suggested, bracing yourself against another gust of wind. You knew it wouldn't be an option though -- after everyone had come so far, you weren't about to turn around and run away.

"You know we can't do that," Newt said, shaking his head. 

You glanced back to the two groups, who were mingling, some sitting down and staring off at the mountain range, some talking quietly to each other. Frankly, you were surprised at how well everyone was getting along after the whole killing Thomas incident. You would've thought everyone would be at each other's throats, but you supposed everyone was in the same boat at this point, so there wasn't much point in fighting.

"I know," you sighed bitterly.

By now, the wind had picked up enough that it was almost impossible to understand what anyone was saying, and the three of you fell silent. Newt glanced at his watch, and you peeked over your shoulder to get a look.

"Forty minutes," he said, tucking his hands back into his pockets.

"What's that!" You heard Minho shout suddenly. You spun around to where he was pushing himself to his feet and pointing frantically past Thomas. You felt panic rising up inside of you as soon as you caught sight of Minho's terror-filled face.

Around forty feet or so from the two groups a huge square of ground was... opening. It swung around to reveal a gaping black hole, then an egg-like black box spun around to replace it. It came to a stop with a screeching, grinding halt, metal on metal. The sound was defining, easily heard above the howling wind.

The object was covered by a large black sheet that blew frantically in the storm, the entire ground around it completely sealed up, as if it had been there, to begin with. You turned in a circle as the loud blaring continued, as dozens of the same round coffins rose up all around you, closing you off and herding everyone towards the center. No one spoke, and you cringed as the sound grew impossibly louder, the wind impossibly faster. Dust and cold and sound stung your eyes.

Teresa was walking over to Thomas, and they were staring intensely at each other, probably doing that creepy mind reading thing. You knew what they were thinking though, as Thomas looked from Teresa to the pods, eyebrows raised.

He wanted you to get inside one of the pods.

Minho and Newt both moved in closer, and you followed them, wrapping your arms more tightly around yourself in some effort to ease the stinging bit of the cold.

"So what do we do?" Minho asked -- well, more shouted, which was all he could do to be heard. You saw Newt open his mouth to answer, but couldn't make out his words. Thomas seemed to have heard though because he nodded in agreement.

"Oh great, the two queens of glorious Group B," Minho muttered sarcastically, and you turned to see Harriet and Sonya stalking over, Jorge (you were pretty sure that was his name) and Brenda not far behind.

Harriet brushed him off and glanced back at the pods worriedly. "I'm assuming you all saw those pods back in your WICKED chamber, too. They had to be where the Grievers charged up or whatever it was they did." You froze and looked back at the nearest egg-like box.

Were there... Grievers inside?

"I really don't want to-" you started, but cut off as a loud crack of lightning flashed in the sky, a brilliant blaze of light against the otherwise pitch black. The wind whistles all around you, no longer coming in short bursts but a continuous tearing that made your nose and ears numb, the air smell of sand and water. You saw Thomas check his watch again and sigh.

"We've only got twenty-five minutes. We're either gonna be fighting Grievers or we need to get inside those big coffins at the right time. Maybe they're the-" he stopped speaking as a sharp hiss pierced the wall of howling wind. He clamped his hands over his ears and you did the same, squeezing your eyes shut. You forced them open after a few seconds though, after a click followed, and Minho muttered, "Well... shuck me."

A thin, blue line had appeared on the left side of each pod and got thicker as the tops swung slowly out and up. As Thomas stepped slowly forward, you moved closer to the coffin directly in front of you. The lid was all the way off now, the lip resting on the ground in the dirt, and you turned your gaze to what rested inside.

Laying coiled in a tight ball misshapen legs pulled to its chest, which was completely covered with little yellow bulbs, was a crude figure. The thing started twitching, and you backed away again as an arm swung heavily out of the side of the pod. It moved around in the sand for a moment, before roughly grabbing the side of the coffin and lurching forward. Another arm popped up, then came what looked like a head, though there was no face or hair, and it didn't have any fingers either, just four stubs of flesh on each hand.

Because it didn't have fingers, the creature looked like it was having trouble getting a grip on anything to pull itself out all the way, but eventually, it struggled to its feet, which were lanky and bare, save for those same lightbulb-like things on its knees and arms and chest. They were flickering a little but glowed a dingy orangeish color that reminded you a little of the Griever's glowing, fleshy bodies.

"What is it?" you called, the panic rising in your voice. You heard Minho yell something, but no one answered, just continued to stare at the things. Your hand was already tightly grasping the dull sword you'd been given, and you looked up long enough to access the scene around you.

A monster had come out of each pod, so there was easily at least one for each couple of people. You turned your attention back to your creature, which was now completely out of the pod and slowly stumbling towards you. It looked a little like a human, but with random bumps all along its dark, wrinkly body. It was quite a bit taller than anyone there, maybe six and a half feet, and was completely bare, the disgusting bulbs seeming to protrude right out of its skin.

All at once, the monster raised its arms up towards the sky and shook them. You jumped as blades shot out of its stubby fingers and toes and arms. There were a few on its shoulders, and it lurched forward, now seemingly more confident that it had a way to attack. Another flash of lightning and the blaze bounced off the shiny metal of the knives, which only made them look more menacing. In unison, they let out a loud, droaning cry and sped up, their steps quickly becoming more steady and sure.

Minho had called for everyone to grab a weapon, and you slid out your sword to hold in front of you, challenging the monster as it lumbered forward. You'd heard Teresa and Harriet shouting at a few of the girls, telling them where to go and lining them up against a creature if it had no one to attack it. The air smelled of electricity and dust, and now everyone stood in almost a perfect circle, each facing off against WICKED's beasts, you between Newt and James, who both held crude daggers and were glaring intensely ahead of them.

You were caught off guard when Minho yelled charge, but you quickly recovered and ran forward, prepared to do battle. A flash of doubt in the back of your mind surfaced for a split second. You worried about Newt and Harriet and Thomas. You had already made it this far, and you couldn't afford to let WICKED win now. Not this late in the game.

All concerns dissipated, however, as soon as you swung your sword down as hard as you could and made contact with the rubbery, thick skin. The creature just looked more angered, if anything, and you quickly got your blade unstuck and jumped back as it swung an arm forward, narrowly missing your head. You just sucked in a breath and ran forward again, aiming for its stomach.