The Scorch Trials (The Maze Runner Book 2) (45)
CHAPTER
45
They
shifted him around on the ground till they got the bag slipped entirely over
his body. Then they tied the open end at his feet with a rope, knotting it
tight and wrapping its ends up and around the rest of him, pinning him inside
the bag, cinching another knot just over his head.
Thomas
felt the bag going taut; then his head was pulled up. He imagined girls holding
either end of this impossibly long rope. Which could only mean one thing—they
were going to drag him. He couldn’t take it anymore, started squirming even
though he knew what it’d get him.
“Teresa!
Don’t do this to me!”
This
time a fist hit him right in the stomach, making him howl. He tried to double
over, tried to clutch his middle, but couldn’t because of the stupid bag. Nausea
swept through him; he fought it, kept his food down.
“Since
you obviously don’t care about yourself,” Teresa said, “talk again and we’ll
start shooting your friends. That sound good to you?”
Thomas
didn’t respond; he heaved a silent sob of agony. Had he really been thinking
things were looking up in the world only yesterday? His infection cured and his
wound healed, away from the city of Cranks, nothing but a swift and hard hike
through the mountains between them and the safe haven. He should’ve known
better after everything he’d been through.
“I
meant what I said!” Teresa yelled at the Gladers. “There won’t be a warning.
Follow us and the arrows start flying.”
Thomas
saw her outline as she knelt next to him, heard her knees crunching on the
dirt. Then she grabbed him through the material of the bag, put her head
against his, her mouth just half an inch from his ear. She started whispering,
so faintly he had to strain to hear, concentrating to separate her words from the
breeze.
“They’re
blocking me from talking to you in our heads. Remember to trust me.”
Thomas,
surprised, had to fight to keep his mouth shut.
“What’re
you saying to him?” This came from one of the girls holding the rope attached
to the bag.
“I’m
letting him know just how much I’m enjoying this. How much I’m enjoying my
revenge. Do you mind?”
Thomas
had never heard such arrogance from her. She was either a really good actress
or had started going crazy. Gained a split personality or two.
“Well,”
the other girl responded. “Glad you’re having so much fun. But we need to
hurry.”
“I
know,” Teresa said. She gripped the sides of Thomas’s head even harder,
squeezed and shook it. Then she pressed her mouth against the rough material,
pushing on his ear. When she spoke, again with that hot whisper, he could feel
her hot breath through the weave of the burlap. “Hang in there. It’ll be over soon.”
The
words numbed Thomas’s brain; he had no idea what to think. Was she being
sarcastic?
She
released him and stood back up. “Okay, let’s get out of here. Make sure you hit
as many rocks as you can along the way.”
His
captors started walking, dragging him along behind them. He felt the rough
ground below him as he was dragged across it, the big sack providing absolutely
no protection. It hurt. He arched his back, putting all his weight on his feet,
letting his shoes bear the brunt of the impacts. But he knew his strength
couldn’t hold out forever.
Teresa
walked right beside him as they pulled his body along. He could just make her
out through the burlap.
Then
Minho started yelling, his voice already fading with distance, the sound of
being dragged against the dirt making it that much harder to hear. What Thomas did
hear, however, gave him little hope. Between garbled unflattering names,
Thomas heard the words “we’ll find you” and “time is right” and “weapons.”
Teresa
slammed her fist into Thomas’s stomach again, shutting Minho up.
And
across the desert they went, Thomas bouncing over the dirt like a sack of old
clothes.
Thomas
imagined horrible things as they went along. His legs were weakening every
second, and he knew he’d have to lower his body to the ground soon. He pictured
the bleeding wounds, the permanent scars.
But
maybe it wouldn’t matter. They planned on killing him anyway.
Teresa
had said to trust her. And even though he had a hard time doing it, he was
trying to believe her. Could all the stuff she’d done to him since reappearing
with the weapons and Group B really be an act? If it wasn’t, why would she keep
whispering to him to trust her?
His
mind turned it all over in circles until he couldn’t concentrate anymore. His
body was being rubbed raw, and he knew he needed to figure out how to prevent
every inch of skin from being scratched off.
The
mountains saved him.
When
they started going up the steep slope, it obviously became difficult for the
girls to drag his body the way they’d done across flat ground. They tried
pulling him in quick jerks—slipping and letting him slide several feet back
down, then hauling him back up only to let him slip again. Teresa finally said
it’d probably be easier to carry him by the shoulders and ankles. And that they
should do it in shifts.
An
idea hit Thomas then that was so obvious he thought surely he’d missed
something. “Why don’t you just let me walk!” he called through the burlap, his
voice muffled and cracking from thirst. “I mean, you do have weapons.
What am I gonna do?”
Teresa
kicked him in the side. “Shut up, Thomas. We’re not idiots. We’re waiting until
your Glader buddies can’t see us anymore.”
He’d
done his best to stifle his groan when her foot crashed into his rib cage.
“Huh? Why?”
“Because
that’s what we were told to do. Now shut up!”
“Why’d
you tell him that?” one of the other girls whispered harshly.
“What
does it matter?” Teresa responded, not even trying to hide what she was saying.
“We’re gonna kill him anyway. Who cares if he knows what we were told to do?”
Told
to do,
Thomas thought. By WICKED.
A
different girl spoke up. “Well, I can barely see them now. Once we reach that
crevice up there, we’ll be out of sight, and they’ll never find us after that.
Even if they do follow.”
“All
right, then,” Teresa said. “Let’s just get him that far.”
Hands
were soon gripping Thomas on all sides, lifting him into the air. From what he
could see through the sack, Teresa and three of her new friends were carrying
him. They picked their way through boulders and around dead trees, going up and
up and up. He heard their heavy breaths, smelled their sweat, hated them more
with each jolting step. Even Teresa. He tried one last time to reach her mind,
to salvage his trust in her, but she wasn’t there.
The
trudge up the mountain went on for maybe an hour—with stops here and there for girls
to switch off carrying duties—and it had been at least twice that long since
they’d left the Gladers. The sun was reaching a point where it would become
dangerous, the heat stifling. But then they rounded a massive wall, the ground
leveling a bit, and entered shade. The cooler air was a relief.
“All
right,” Teresa said. “Drop him.”
Without
ceremony, they did what she said and he slammed into the ground with a heavy
grunt. It knocked the wind out of him, and he lay there gasping for air as they
started untying the ropes. By the time he caught his breath, the bag had been
taken off.
He
blinked, looking up at Teresa and her friends. They all had their weapons
pointed at him, which just seemed ridiculous.
From
somewhere he found a trace of courage. “You guys must think a lot of me, twenty
of you with knives and machetes, me with nothing. I feel so special.”
Teresa
reared back with her spear.
“Wait!”
Thomas cried, and she stopped. He held his hands up in deference, slowly got to
his feet. “Look, I’m not gonna try anything. Just take me wherever we’re going
and then I’ll let you kill me like a good boy. I don’t have any shuck thing to
live for anyway.”
He
looked directly at Teresa when he said this, tried to put as much spite into
his words as possible.
He
still held on to a little hope that somehow this would end up making sense, but
either way, after how he’d been treated, he wasn’t in such a hot mood.
“Come
on,” Teresa said. “I’m sick of this. Let’s get to the inside of the Pass so we
can sleep the day off. Tonight we’ll start heading through.”
The
girl with dark skin who’d helped put him in the sack spoke next. “And what
about this guy we’ve been hauling around for the last few hours?”
“Don’t
worry, we’ll kill him,” Teresa replied. “We’ll kill him just the way they told
us to. It’s his punishment for what he did to me.”
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