The Recall Trials
Chapter 92: What If….They Don’t Make It Back?

Chapter 92: What If....They Don’t Make It Back?

Vincent’s POV

"So it’s about... questioning the illusion?"

George spread his hands.

"Exactly. The maze was designed to make us surrender to our own guilt. The only way out was refusing to let guilt own us. If you doubt the hallucination’s truth...even for a second, it begins to lose power."

A freckled girl’s lip quivered.

"I wish I’d known that sooner."

I whispered.

"We’re all fighting invisible wars in there. But it’s our minds they’re really trying to break. Remember that for next time."

Bleep.

"Another contestant has been eliminated."

Silence settled for a while after George finished talking.

I glanced around the room.

People were shaking, others staring blankly at the metal walls.

I cleared my throat and sat up straight.

"How about we all put our heads together? Come up with techniques to help each other survive the next trials."

A few heads lifted.

"Since we’ve already accepted none of us is leaving... the least we can do is survive. And fight. Together."

Freckled girl....her name was Rumi I remembered now rubbed her red eyes.

"But we don’t even know what the next game might be."

Her voice quivered.

"It could be physical... mental... emotional. We can’t even predict it."

She hugged herself tighter.

"It’s like they’re always three steps ahead of us."

"That’s true," George said, adjusting his glasses. "But even if we can’t predict it, we can prepare our minds. We can at least share what worked, and what broke us. It might give us an edge."

I nodded.

"Exactly. I mean... we all made it this far. There has to be something we’re doing right."

I said.

"Some of us just got lucky." Someone else said.

Neon-bandana guy shifted closer.

"You mean... like, share our weaknesses? So the game can’t use it against us?"

"Exactly," I said. "If you know my triggers, you can help snap me out of it. If I know yours, I can watch your back."

Freckled girl scoffed. "But... telling people your deepest fears in a place like this....it’s dangerous. What if it gets used against us?"

A pause.

Before I could answer, the door hissed open.

And another contestant stumbled in. Blood on her sleeve.

Gasps went up.

Then another door opened again. And another.

Soon, the room began to fill up. Bodies brushing past each other. Bandages. Hollow eyes. Cries muffled behind trembling hands.

Almost thirty contestants were now gathered, crammed into the common room.

A few sat slumped on the floor. Others moved restlessly, looking for familiar faces.

"Another contestant has been eliminated."

"Another contestant has been eliminated."

"Another contestant has been eliminated."

Each announcement stabbed my chest.

Carter made it in next. Limping slightly, but alive. He saw me, gave a grim nod, and sank down onto a bench, wiping sweat off his face.

Theo stumbled in right after, his eyes were wild. He avoided my gaze.

Then Dinesh. Cleo. Luca.

But... still no Zaara. No Jojo.

Every second felt like an hour.

"Where the hell are they?" I whispered.

Dinner was served. Some grayish stew and chunks of bread .The smell made me nauseous.

I didn’t eat.

Couldn’t.

I kept pacing back and forth by the doors.

Rumi leaned over.

"Vincent... you should try to eat. You’ll need your strength."

I shook my head, swallowing hard.

"I can’t. Not until I know they’re safe."

Carter pushed himself up, grunting a little as he came over and stood beside me.

"They’re strong. They’ll make it back. You gotta believe that."

I rubbed a hand over my face, staring at the sealed doors.

"It’s been hours now. Three... maybe more.

I kept pacing the tiles in front of the door. Each time the door opened, my breath hitched, hoping it would be them.

It wasn’t.

Again.

And again.

More contestants filtered in. Still no Zaara. Still no Jojo.

Most people were already in bed. Some lay curled on the bunks, clutching their blankets around their shoulders. Some sat upright, staring forward, dozing off before jerking awake again, refusing to give up hope.

We had around forty-five people in the room now.

Another contestant has been eliminated.

Another contestant has been eliminated.

I’d heard it so many times that my brain had gone numb. I’d stopped counting the bodies.

Now I sat slumped on the bench by the entrance, elbows on my knees, staring at the metal door like I could will it to open.

Carter was beside me, chin resting on his chest, breathing deep and slow. Asleep, finally. His fingers still twitched sometimes, like he was gripping invisible weapons.

Across the room, Theo sat stiff-backed on a cot. His gaze kept flicking toward the door. Even after everything, he was still waiting for her too.

Then a voice cut through:

"Hey."

I turned my head sharply.

Nomi stood there, arms crossed over her chest. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, hair messy like she’d been clawing at it.

"What if... they don’t make it back?" she said softly.

I blinked, swallowing the sudden burn in my chest.

"She will. I know Zaara. And I know Jojo. They’ll fight. They’ll crawl their way back here if they have to."

Nomi studied my face for a moment. Her mouth curved in the faintest, saddest smile.

"Guess we’ll see how much of a miracle this place has left."

She reached out and tapped my shoulder lightly, then turned away and headed for her bunk.

I watched her go, then turned back to the door.

Minutes dragged like hours. My eyes kept drifting shut and snapping open again.

I didn’t even realize I’d dozed off until a sudden click snapped me upright.

My eyes flew open.

The metal door creaked as it cracked open.

I shot to my feet so fast my bench screeched against the floor.

My breath caught in my throat.

Please... please let it be them.

The masked guard stepped inside first, scanning the room. Behind him, shadows shifted in the corridor.

I couldn’t breathe.

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