Iris Hanson, Madrigal, MFINGAtheflock, and everyone else who's read this thank you! You know how everything goes. School comes first, then sports, then clubs, then volunteer service, and, finally, there's those little moments where you actually have time to sit down and write! This is one of those moments. Oh, by the way, some parts of this chapter hold direct quotes from The Angel Experiment. I do not own those. By the by, I cannot recall exactly how the Scorch Trials goes from here. I got the gist, but forgive me. I believe I'm going to manipulate the plot to suit my needs! ;)

It's crazy how real a dream can be sometimes. In the back of your mind, you just know it isn't real. Yet, in a strange way, it is. It's so, so real.

You can feel the pain as sharp rocks and pointed sticks cut mercilessly into your bare feet. You can feel the sting of thorns as a briar attacks your arms, leaving bloody trails on your white skin. You can even feel your lungs burning, aching for air that they can't have as you run faster and faster and faster still, pure adrenaline spurring you on.

It doesn't matter that you don't know who you're running from. It doesn't matter that you don't know where you're running to. All you care about is escaping.

Escape! The thought made me speed up. I had to get into the air. I had to.

I squinted in the half light, searching for a clearing where I could get into the air. That's all I needed.

The unearthly baying of bloodhounds on the scent wailed through the trees and I felt sick. I could outrun men- all of us could, even Angel, and she's only six. But none of us could outrun a big dog.

Dogs, dogs, go away. Let me live another day!

They were getting closer. Dim light filtered in throughthe woods in front of me - a clearing?

I burst through the trees, chest heaving, a thin sheen of cold sweat on my skin.

Yes!

No!

I skidded to a halt, my arms waving, my feet backpedaling in the rocky dirt.

It wasn't a clearing. In front of me was a cliff, a sheer face of rock that dropped to an unseeable floor hundreds of feet below.

Behind me were the woods filled with drooling bloodhounds and psycho Erasers with guns.

I wished I could stop the dream and ask myself, "Why would an eraser have a gun?" Unfortunately, my dream-self had a different idea.

I looked over the deadly drop. There was no choice, really. I closed my eyes… and let myself fall over the edge of the cliff.

I heard hysterical barking then the quiet sound of wind rushing through my hair. I let my arms fall out, savoring the peacefulness of it all.

I took a deep breath. I'd never done this before. I unfurled my wings, hard and fast, and was yanked up like a parachute. Ouch! I thought. Note to self: No sudden unfurling!

They were beautiful, though. Thirteen feet across, my wings were tan with white streaks and brown speckles spread throughout. I pushed my wings down then up then down. I couldn't believe it. I was flying at last!

I laughed, surging upward to meet the Erasers. They looked like oversized Werewolves caught between the human and wolf stage. Their fangs glistened as their huge hand/paws grasped wicked-looking guns. Not today you jerks! I thought triumphantly as a red dot appeared on my tattered night gown.

I veered sharply to the west, towards the sun so it would shine in their hateful eyes.

I'm not going to die today!

I awoke panting. Newt, Thomas, and Total had agreed to stand guard while I caught a few hours of sleep. I wouldn't have agreed to it if Total hadn't volunteered with the boys. He knew it, too. I didn't trust them anymore than I trusted the Creators. That is to say, not at all.

Of course, I did need to sleep. If I didn't then I wouldn't have the energy to fight. In this world, it seemed as if you always needed the extra energy to fight.

I didn't think sleep would find me anymore, though. The dream still lingered in my mind, terrifyingly real. I could still see the Eraser's hairy paw, clutching the gun that would assuredly take my life.

The worst part was the fact that the Erasers probably existed in some form or another. I could chalk the wolf-like man up to a number of things (dementia ranking number one), but, knowing my luck, their actual existence was most probable. And, judging by my dream, if I'd met an Eraser before then it probably wasn't on good terms. I know that's a little out there, but, c'mon. My imagination can be twisted, but it's not that twisted. I'd never be able to single-handedly think up a creature so monstrous.

And… then there was Angel. I didn't know how she fit into the dream, really. Had I known her before? If my dream was a memory then it was a possibility. Whatever it was, the bottom line was simple: I didn't actually know.

"What's wrong, sleepyhead?" Total murmured. I smacked his furry butt as hard as I could without causing a scene.

"Bad dog," I said. A dark look glinted in his eyes, and I mentally groaned. I'd definitely be hearing about this later. He was probably the only prissy dog I'd ever meet. Especially when you called him a dog! I was just naming his species for goodness sake!

"Glad to see everyone's awake!" I heard Thomas call, probably directing a very pointed look at me. Whatever. "If we're going to get to the other side of the mountain in three days we need to get moving. Jorge, can you show us the easy way out of the town?"

"Ok," he said, pausing in thought. He looked like he was about to continue when Angel ran up to me, her eyes wide with fear.

"There's a bunch of people outside!"

"Wha- Oh, Insert Choice Word Here!" Jorge cursed.

"There is a six year old in here!" I reprimanded him.

He just gave me a dirty look and snapped, "Get in the tunnels! Now!"

Why? I asked silently. I'd rather die than follow Jorge into any type of tight, closed-in tunnel where he could do who knew what to us... Angel clutched my hand tensely, as if terrified. I patted her head, trying to soothe her fear. We'd be safer up here, away from Jorge.

There are people out there that want to hurt us, something whispered in my head, making it feel cottony. We need to follow Jorge. He'll keep us safe for right now.

"Max, what're you doing? We can't follow that psycho!" Total hissed at me, nipping my ankles. I hadn't even realized that I'd started to follow the Gladers that were naively shuffling after Jorge.

"There are people out there that want to hurt us. We need to follow Jorge. He'll keep us safe for right now," I replied dully, shaking Total away from me. The need to follow Jorge to his tunnels was almost overpowering.

I dimly heard the two vagrants whispering to each other from behind me, but I didn't pay them much mind. "Angel!" Total said, mumbling something under his breath.

"Yes Total?" she asked innocently.

"Did you…"

"Maybe…"

"Remember…"

"Nope… Well, yeah. She doesn't."

"She's going to kill you."

"Nah, she probably won't remember."

"For your sake, I hope she doesn't."

Then they fell silent as we descended into a hole that wasn't in the wall before. It must've been some sort of secret passage. Jorge stood at it, watching everyone file through. I shuddered on the inside. His black eyes glittered cruelly in the light.

We were the last ones, so Jorge sealed the entryway after us. It was completely dark for a moment before Jorge lit a match. It shone like a beacon as he stuck it against a torch-thingy.

"Brenda, we're splitting up. Take the girls and those three." I didn't see who he was pointing to. Brenda took the torch from Jorge after he lit another torch for himself.

"C'mon," she said, motioning to Angel, Thomas, Newt, Alby and me. Total huffed, offended that he was beneath mention.

I really hated the tunnel. It made my skin crawl worse than the blackness of the flat trans. That was probably because you could actually see how close the walls were. It was too close. If we needed to do a quick escape, I wouldn't be able to fly.

"Crap," Brenda muttered softly as we turned down an adjoining tunnel. "Move quickly and quietly."

I listened and heard the strangest sound. It was the sound of a dozen, maybe more, people limping. They moaned lowly, as if in extreme pain, and I wondered why we were avoiding them.

"The Cranks are getting closer," Thomas muttered to Brenda. She nodded, lips pressed tight. A tiny blossom of fear began budding inside of me. What on Earth was a Crank?

Suddenly, I was shoved into a nearly invisible crevice by Brenda. I almost punched her, but she was cramming herself in after me. There was no room to punch her.

Panic flooded my body. Where was Angel, Total? Even Thomas, Alby, and Newt's whereabouts seemed slightly important.

I watched as a dozen extremely deformed bodies filed past us. Sores and blisters covered much of their skin. A few were missing essential limbs like arms or a legs. One was dragging itself along, no more than a torso. I shuddered, thinking of zombies. It seemed a fate I would never want to share.

A small sneeze had me gasping. The Cranks turned towards the source and went into a frenzy. They were attempting to get into the crack, but couldn't because they lacked dexterity. I flinched, hoping it wasn't Angel's crack. A scream cut through the air and my heart jumped into my throat….

Cliffie! OOO Review! ;)