XX

"Say your goodbyes. We leave within the hour."

Fifteen minutes after Vince's grave announcement everyone, including the prisoners they'd rescued from the Maze, were gathered in the downstairs living room by the bar, waiting instructions from Vince who was standing atop a small step-ladder.

"Good morning," he began, clearing his throat and motioning for everyone to quieten down. "Today is no ordinary day. Today is the day that I will be making a decision that will not only break the hearts of everyone in this room but will also tear me up inside. If I were a more capable and efficient leader, maybe this scenario would be different. But it isn't. I've received some bad news from our kind host and landlord, Marcus. WCKD has been tipped off about us and is planning to sweep the Flat Trans terrain tonight."

A ripple of horrified and scared murmurs rose up but Vince silenced them with a wave of his hand.

"Not to worry, I have a plan in place, but, as I said before, this is not going to be easy ... not for any of us."

As Vince continued his inspiring speech, Brenda, feeling weighed down by exhaustion, felt herself zoning out. She glanced around the room from her position on a bar-stool next to the counter.

Then, she froze.

Her eyes had landed on the group of prisoners that were a few paces away from her and looking quite somber and thoughtful. However, as she counted each blonde, red and brown head, she realised that one was missing.

Teresa.

Turning to Harriet, who was sitting beside her, Brenda whispered, "I've gotta go check in on Chuck, okay? I'll be right back."

Harriet frowned and caught Brenda's arm as she stood up, stopping her mid-movement. "Can't you wait til this is over? Vince needs your support."

Brenda tugged away from Harriet and shook her head. "No. I can't. I'm sorry."

Turning her back on her friends, Brenda slipped soundlessly from the room. Out of ear-shot of the others, she sprinted up the stair-well, taking the steps two at a time. Thoughts, wild and fast, began to circulate through her mind at lightning speed.

As Brenda started searching for the slim, long-haired girl, a dreadful thought flashed through the forefront of her mind. At first, she shook it off, convinced that such a thing could not be so. However, the more she considered it, the higher the possibility of it being true became.

What if it had been Teresa who had tipped them off to WCKD?

Teresa had made it plain, from the very beginning, that she didn't trust Brenda. She would have nothing to lose if, indeed, she was captured by the government officials. She wouldn't be killed because she knew a lot of things about the Right-Arm that WCKD would probably find useful; such as the members, their co-operation, their routine, their way in-and-out. She also wouldn't be experimented on because she had been put into the Maze.

Brenda paused and heaved a deep sigh of annoyance. She had looked everywhere but there was still no sign of the way-ward girl. Grinding her teeth together in frustration, Brenda wondered, for a moment, what she would do if she was in Teresa's shoes. Would she have contacted WCKD?

The answer was simple.

Yes.

Now convinced that the mole was Teresa, Brenda, her heart pounding at a hundred miles an hour, sprinted towards the flight of stairs leading up to the next level of the building, intent on confronting her.

However, just as Brenda seized the hand-railing lining the rickety, old steps, she heard a soft thumping noise vibrating from the storage room situated beneath the stair-well.

What the hell?

Slowly, Brenda retraced her footsteps and headed towards the small, enclosed door. Her hand slipped to the holster hanging from her belt. Her palm tightened around the butt of her pistol. Her fingers curled around the familiar outline of the trigger.

BAM.

Brenda shoved the door open and threw up her weapon, scanning the perimeter inside. "Who's in here?" she yelled.

"B-Brenda, it's just me! Don't shoot!"

She lowered the gun slightly in surprise. "Teresa?"

The girl was hunched in a corner of the darkened room, a single candle-stick being her only source of light.

Brenda's gaze trailed from Teresa's form to the tiny oval-shaped table, piled with equipment, that she was sitting in front of. "What are you doing?"

Then, Brenda saw it.

The radio.

Before she could react, Teresa suddenly leaped up from her chair and pulled a pistol of her own out on Brenda. "Drop your gun!" she cried as she brought her weapon up to Brenda's head. "Don't make me ask you twice."

Brenda swallowed as she glanced from her gun to Teresa. There was no way she could shoot her without being shot first. Shaking her head, she snapped, "Why on earth would you do this to us, Teresa? We saved you! We saved all of you! And this is how you repay us? By tipping us off to WCKD? Those people destroyed your life, your memories, your family, your home. Why would you help them?"

"My only concern is my friends' safety," Teresa returned in a dead-calm tone. "I don't believe that you're Chuck's sister. Nor do I believe that you and the others 'rescued' us. I believe that you're just a bunch of filthy gold-diggers, willing to use us to your own advantage. No offence."

Brenda's mouth fell open in shock. "You can't be serious."

"Teresa?"

With a start, both girls turned around to see Thomas, along with Newt and Minho, framed in the doorway.

"What's going on?" Thomas persisted. "Why are you both bailing each other up?"

"Put the bloody guns away," Newt furrowed his brow at them. "Teresa, love, just put yours down first and explain yourself."

"No," Teresa shook her head vigourously. "I won't! They've been lying to us! They aren't saving us!"

"What do you mean?" Minho turned suspicious eyes on Brenda.

"What she's trying to say is that she's the one who tipped us off to WCKD!" Brenda spat out. "There's not a doubt in my mind that they're on their way here right now! We have to leave the premises immediately!"

"No. We mustn't leave!" Teresa argued. "Janson said that we'd be safe, all of us, if we just stay inside the building! He's confirmed it, okay? They're criminals! Heretics! Outlaws! We can't trust these people, Thomas. It's better this way."

"They saved our lives!" Thomas shouted. "How could you do this to them?"

"Wait!" Minho cut in abruptly. "Do you hear that?"

Brenda's ears perked up just as she heard a strange, whirring noise. With a soft gasp, she drew back when she realised what it was.

Helicopter blades.

It was too late. WCKD was here.

"We have to go, now!" Brenda cried out in desperation. "Please, Teresa, it's not too late! You can escape with us! Just put the gun down and let us go!"

"Us?" Teresa shook her head. "Oh no. It's just you, Brenda. WCKD wants you. Not us. They'll help us. They'll help us find our homes, our families, our loved ones. You had your shot at being the good guys but now your time is over. I'm not moving until those guards get up here and place you under arrest."

"Teresa, what the shuck are you doing?" Thomas yelped. "Enough is enough!"

BAM.

Brenda winced as she heard the splintering sound of the front doors to the Palace being broken into.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Gun-shots, accompanied by screams of terror, penetrated the air.

Tears pricked Brenda's eyes as she gazed pleadingly at Newt. Please, don't let her do this, she mouthed.

For a moment, Newt didn't move. Then, he stepped forward, right in front of Brenda! "If you're gonna shoot her, Teresa, you're gonna have to shoot me too," he said, in his smooth, accented tone, that was now laced with worry and anger.

Teresa's hands began to tremble as the gun started to slide from her grip. "No, Newt, no. You can't do this! Just get out of the way and I won't have to shoot you. Please."

"Teresa, love, just put it down, it's okay," Newt attempted to console her but none of his efforts were working.

"Ah guys? We better hurry whatever-this-is along," Minho called out worriedly. "There's uniformed officers coming up the stairs!"

Suddenly, a loud, terrified shriek split the air.

Brenda's eyes widened in horror.

Chuck! Oh my god. That's Chuck! I have to go back for him.

Without a second thought for her own safety, Brenda whirled around and darted out of the room.

BANG.

Teresa's gun went off.

Brenda stumbled to an ungraceful halt upon hearing the heart-wrenching sound. She was about to turn back and see what had happened when another yell sounded from upstairs.

She had to get to Chuck.

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, Brenda ran up the stair-case to the third level of the building. Earlier, she had placed Chuck into the safest room possible so he could recover without interference from anyone else but now her throbbing legs and aching muscles were making her regret that decision.

Finally, Brenda, completely winded and out of breath, arrived at the door leading into Chuck's room. Throwing herself against it, she pushed down on the handle, but it wouldn't comply.

It was locked.

No. Oh no. Oh no.

Brenda took a few steps backwards. With a loud cry she rushed forward, slamming her shoulder against the door. It didn't budge.

Aw c'mon. C'mon.

With a loud grunt she smashed the door again ... and again ... and again.

It was slowly giving way but Brenda was running out of time.

About ready to pass out, Brenda delivered one last powerful kick and the door, now creaking insanely and sagging from its hinges, swung open.

"Chuck!" she screamed as she lurched inside.

The little boy, who was cowering, terrified, beneath his bedstead, poked his head out of his hiding spot and gasped in relief.

"Brenda!" he yelped as he practically jumped into her arms. "What's going on? I heard guns."

Brenda buried her nose into her brother's mass of curls as she hugged him tightly to her chest. "You're okay, you're okay," she whispered over and over.

"Brenda," Chuck whimpered. "I'm scared."

Brenda nodded as she pulled away. "We have to get out of here. Some bad men are coming to take you away from me and I'm not letting that happen again. Come with me."

Grabbing Chuck's hand, she headed to the bedroom door but, upon hearing the clatter of heeled boots on the stair-well, she hastily drew back.

"How are we going to get out of here?" Chuck, shaking in fear, buried his face in Brenda's arm.

Scanning the room, Brenda's gaze fell on a window nearby and her eyes narrowed with determination. "This way." Keeping a firm hold on Chuck's chubby hand, she pulled him towards the grimy glass pane.

"Wait," Chuck held back when he realised what was about to happen. "I am not jumping through that!"

"Hey, do you see any other way outta here?" Brenda snapped, whirling around and glaring at him. "This is a matter of life or death!" Upon seeing how terrified her little brother was, though, she softened up as she queried, "Do you trust me?"

Chuck hesitated.

"Do ... you ... trust ... me?"

He nodded, his brown curls bouncing up and down on his head. "Yes, I do."

"Then let's jump ... together," Brenda told him encouragingly.

"Together," Chuck swallowed hard, trying to reassure himself.

Reaching over, Brenda seized a stool sitting nearby and hurled it straight at the window. The glass smashed into smithereens, revealing a fifteen-metre drop to the ground, which sloped into the sand dunes of the precarious Scorch right beneath them.

"Let's go," she ordered. Whipping off her scarf, she placed it on the window-sill to cover the leftover glass shards before leaping nimbly up onto it.

As Chuck clambered up beside her, the guards in pursuit of them cleared the steps and broke into the room.

Brenda glanced over her shoulder, her dark-brown hair swirling around her ears, just in time to see a group of three men walk forward, their guns levelled right at them!

"Get away from the window!" one of the guards shouted, his voice muffled by a metallic mask that covered his head and face. "Get down on the floor now!"

Brenda cast a sideways glance at Chuck before letting out a shrill cry, "Jump!"

And they did.

Gif: Teresa in the storage room.

Q: Who do you agree with? Teresa and WCKD? Or Brenda and the Right-Arm?

~ If you enjoyed this chapter or want to give me feedback on anything, don't hesitate to vote, comment or DM me. I'm open to any suggestions, ideas or constructive criticism. I love chatting with my readers and I love to hear what they think about my writing. However, any hate or negativity posted on here will be deleted and reported. Have a great day everyone! Catch you all soon. ~