The Scorch Trials (The Maze Runner Book 2) (43)
CHAPTER
43
It
took a long time for Thomas to find sleep again.
He
had no doubt it had been Teresa. None at all. Just like before when they’d
spoken to each other, he’d felt her presence, sensed her emotions. She’d been
with him, even if it had been for such a short time. And when she left, it was
like opening up that vast void within all over again. As if during the days since
her disappearance a thick liquid had slowly seeped in and filled that chamber,
only to have it all sucked out again when she came and went.
What
had she meant, anyway? Something awful was going to happen to him, but he
needed to trust her? He couldn’t wrap his mind around that enough for it to
make any sense. And as awful as her warning sounded, his thoughts kept drifting
to the last part, about them being together again. Was that some string of
false hope? Or did it mean she thought he’d make it through the bad thing and
end up okay? Reunited with her? Possibilities raced through his mind, but they
all seemed to hit a depressing dead end.
The
day only got hotter and hotter as he tossed and turned, haunted by his
thoughts. He’d almost grown used to Teresa’s being gone, which made him sick to
his stomach. To make it worse, he felt like he’d betrayed her by letting Brenda
become his friend, by growing so close to her.
Ironically,
his first instinct was to reach out and wake Brenda, talk to her about
it. Was that wrong? He felt so frustrated and stupid he wanted to scream.
All
great for someone trying to fall back asleep in the miserable heat.
The
sun had trudged halfway to the horizon before he finally did.
He
felt a little better in the late evening when Newt shook him awake. Teresa’s
brief visit to his mind seemed like a dream now. He could almost believe it had
never happened.
“Sleep
well, Tommy?” Newt asked. “How’s that shoulder?”
Thomas
sat up, rubbed his eyes. Though he couldn’t have slept for more than three or
four hours, his sleep had been deep and undisturbed. He rubbed his shoulder to
test it and was surprised all over again. “Feels really good, actually—aches a
little, but not much. Hard to believe I was hurtin’ so bad before.”
Newt
looked around at the Gladers preparing to leave, then back at Thomas. “Feels
like we haven’t talked much since leaving the bloody dorm. Not much time to sit
around and sip tea, I guess.”
“Yeah.”
For some reason this made Thomas think of Chuck, and all the pain of his death
came rushing back. Which just made him hate the people behind all this all over
again. The line from Teresa came back to him. “I don’t see how WICKED can be
good.”
“Huh?”
“Remember
what Teresa had written on her arm when she first woke up? Or did you even know
about that? It said WICKED is good. I’m just finding that hard to
believe.” The sarcasm in his voice wasn’t subtle.
Newt
had a strange smile on his face. “Well, they just saved your buggin’ life.”
“Yeah,
they’re real saints.” Thomas couldn’t deny he was confused. They had saved
his life. He also knew he’d worked for them. But what it all meant, he had no
idea.
Brenda,
who had been stirring in her sleep, now finally sat up, letting out a big yawn.
“Morning. Or evening. Whatever.”
“Another
day alive,” Thomas answered, then realized Newt might have no idea who Brenda
was. He really had no idea what had happened in the group since he’d been shot.
“I’m assuming you guys had time to get to know each other? If not, Brenda, this
is Newt. Newt, Brenda.”
“Yeah,
we know already.” Newt reached out and shook her hand mockingly. “But thanks
again for making sure this bloody sissy didn’t get his butt killed while you
two were out partying.”
The
barest hint of a smile flashed across her face. “Partying. Yeah. I especially
loved the part where we had people trying to cut our noses off.” A look flashed
across her face, part embarrassment, part despair. “Guess it won’t be long
before I’m one of those psychos.”
Thomas
didn’t know how to respond to that. “You’re probably not that much farther
along than us. Remember that—”
Brenda
wouldn’t let him finish. “Yeah, I know. You guys are gonna take me to the magical
cure. I know.” She got up then, the conversation obviously over.
Thomas
looked at Newt, who shrugged. Then, as he got to his knees, he leaned in and
whispered, “She your new girlfriend? I’m telling Teresa.” He snickered to
himself and was gone.
Thomas
sat there for a minute, overwhelmed by it all. Teresa, Brenda, his friends. The
warning he’d received. The Flare. The fact that they only had a few days to
cross those mountains. WICKED. Whatever waited for them at the safe haven and
in the future.
Too
much. It was all too much.
He
had to stop thinking. He was hungry, and that he could solve. So he got
up and went searching for something to eat. And Frypan didn’t disappoint.
*
* *
They
set off just as the sun dipped below the horizon, making the dusty orange land
look almost purple. Thomas was cramped and tired, itching to walk off some
steam and loosen his muscles.
The
mountains slowly became jagged peaks of shadow, growing taller and taller as
they walked. There were no real foothills to speak of; the flat valley just
stretched forward until the ground erupted toward the sky in sheer cliffs and
steep slopes. All brown and ugly, lifeless. Thomas hoped an obvious path would
present itself once they’d made it that far.
No
one spoke much as they marched along. Brenda stayed close but quiet. She didn’t
even talk to Jorge. Thomas hated how it was now. How suddenly everything was
awkward between him and Brenda. He liked her, probably more than he liked
anyone else now besides Newt and Minho. And Teresa, of course.
Newt
approached him after darkness had fallen, the stars and moon their only guides.
Their light was enough—you didn’t need much when the ground was flat and all you
had to do was walk toward the looming wall of rock in front of you. The crunch
crunch crunch of their footsteps on the earth filled the air.
“Been
thinkin’,” Newt said.
“About
what?” Thomas didn’t really care; he was just glad to have someone to talk to
and get his mind off things.
“WICKED.
Ya know, they broke their own bloody rules with you.”
“How’s
that?”
“They
said there were no rules. Said we had so much time to get to the bloody
safe haven and that was that. No rules. People dying left and right, then they
come down in a buggin’ monster flying thing and save your butt. Doesn’t make
sense.” He paused. “Not that I’m complaining—I’m glad you’re alive and all.”
“Gee,
thanks.” Thomas knew it was a good point, but he was tired of thinking about
it.
“And
then there were all those signs in the city. Weird.”
Thomas
looked over at Newt, barely able to see his friend’s face. “What, you jealous
or something?” he asked, trying to make a joke out of it. Trying to ignore the
fact that the signs had to be a big deal.
Newt
laughed. “No, you shank. Just dying to know what’s really going on around here.
What this is really all about.”
“Yeah.”
Thomas nodded. He couldn’t agree more. “The lady said only a few of us were
good enough to be Candidates. And she did say I was the best Candidate,
and they didn’t want me dying from something they hadn’t planned. But I don’t
know what it all means. Has something to do with all that klunk about killzone
patterns.”
They
walked on for a minute or so before Newt spoke again. “Not worth bustin’ our
brains about, I guess. What’s gonna happen’ll happen.”
Thomas
almost told him then about what Teresa had said in his mind, but for some
reason it just didn’t feel right.
He
stayed silent, and eventually Newt drifted away until once again Thomas walked
alone in the dark.
A
couple of hours passed before he had another conversation, this time with
Minho. A lot of words flew back and forth between them, but in the end they
hadn’t really said much. Just passing time, rehashing the same questions they’d
all gone over in their minds a million times.
Thomas’s
legs were a little tired, but not too bad. The mountains got ever closer. The
air cooled considerably, and it felt wonderful. Brenda remained silent and
distant.
And
on they went.
*
* *
When
the first traces of dawn turned the sky a deep, dark blue, the stars beginning
to wink away for the coming day, Thomas finally got the nerve to approach
Brenda and talk about something. Anything. The cliffs loomed now, dead trees
and chunks of scattered rock coming into focus. They’d reach the foot of the mountains
by the time the sun popped over the horizon, Thomas was sure of it.
“Hey,”
he said to her. “How’re your feet holding up?”
“Fine.”
It came out curt, but then she quickly spoke again, maybe trying to make up for
it. “How about you? Your shoulder seem okay?”
“I
can’t believe how fine it is. Doesn’t hurt much at all.”
“That’s
good.”
“Yeah.”
He racked his brain, trying to think of something to say. “So, um, I’m sorry
about all the weird stuff that happened. And … for anything I said. My head’s
all kinds of crazy and messed up.”
She
looked over at him, and he could see a bit of softness in her eyes. “Please,
Thomas. The last thing you need to do is apologize.” She returned her gaze up
ahead. “We’re just different. Plus, you have that girlfriend of yours. I
shouldn’t have tried to kiss you and all that crap.”
“She’s
not really my girlfriend.” He regretted saying it as soon as it came out—didn’t
even know where it had come from.
Brenda
huffed. “Don’t be dumb. And don’t insult me. If you’re gonna resist this”—she
paused and gestured to herself with a sweep of her hands from head to toe with
a mocking smile—“then it better be for a good reason.”
Thomas
laughed—all the tension and awkwardness had just vanished completely. “Point
taken. You’re probably a crappy kisser anyway.”
She
punched him in the arm—luckily his good one. “You couldn’t possibly be more
wrong. Trust me on that one.”
Thomas
was just about to say something stupid when he stopped dead in his tracks.
Somebody almost ran into him from behind, tripped around to his side, but he
couldn’t tell who—his eyes were glued in front of him, his heart completely
frozen.
The
sky had lightened considerably, and the leading edge of the mountains’ slope
lay just a few hundred feet away. Halfway between here and there, a girl had
seemingly appeared out of nowhere, rising from the ground. And she was walking
toward them at a brisk pace.
In
her hands she held a long shaft of wood with a large, nasty-looking blade
lashed to one end.
It
was Teresa.
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