The Scorch Trials (The Maze Runner Book 2) (51)
CHAPTER
51
Thomas
was done talking, to either of them. But he certainly wasn’t going down without
a fight. He resolved to wait and watch for the best opportunity.
Aris
kept his knife pointed at him as Teresa made her way toward the big rectangle
of illuminated green glass. Thomas couldn’t deny his curiosity about the door.
She
reached a point where the glow silhouetted her whole body. It made her edges
fuzzy, as if she were dissolving. She walked across the cave until she’d left the
light completely, then reached for the stone wall, started punching a finger on
what had to be some sort of keypad that Thomas couldn’t see.
She
finished up and stepped back toward him.
“We’ll
see if that actually works,” Aris said.
“It
will,” Teresa replied.
A
loud pop sounded, followed by a sharp hiss. Thomas watched as the right edge of
the glass began to swing outward like a door. As it opened, wispy streams of
white mist swirled through the widening crack, almost immediately evaporating
into nothing. It was like a long-abandoned freezer releasing its cold air into
the heat of the night. Darkness lurked inside even as the rectangle of glass
continued to emit its strange green radiance.
So
the door wasn’t a window at all, Thomas thought. Just a green door. Maybe toxic
waste wasn’t in his near future. He hoped.
The
door finally stopped, thumping with an icy screech against the wall of jagged
rock. A pit of black now lay where the door had once been—there wasn’t enough
light to reveal what lay inside. The mist had completely stopped as well.
Thomas felt an abyss of anxiety open up beneath him.
“Do
you have a flashlight?” Aris asked.
Teresa
put her spear on the ground, then pulled her backpack off and dug through its
contents. A moment later she pulled out a flashlight and flicked it on.
Aris
nodded back toward the opening. “Take a look while I watch him. Don’t try
anything, Thomas. I’m pretty sure what they have planned for you is easier than
getting stabbed to death.”
Thomas
didn’t answer, keeping his pathetic oath to stay silent from here on out. He
thought about the knife and whether he could take it from Aris.
Teresa
had stepped up right to the side of the gaping rectangular hole; she shone her
flashlight inside. Swept it up and down, left to right. It cut through a fine
cloud of mist as she did so, but the dwindling moisture was thin enough to
reveal the interior.
It
was a small room, only several feet deep. Its walls appeared to be made of some
silvery metal, their surfaces broken up by small protrusions maybe an inch
high, each ending in a black hole. The little knobs or spouts were set about
five inches apart, making a square grid across the walls.
Teresa
turned to Aris, flicking off the flashlight as she did so. “Looks about right,”
she said.
Aris
snapped his head back to look at Thomas, who had been so focused on the strange
room he’d missed another chance to do something. “Exactly like they said it
would be.”
“So
… I guess this is it?” Teresa asked.
Aris
nodded, then switched his knife to the other hand, holding it more tightly.
“This is it. Thomas, be a good boy and go on inside. Who knows, maybe this is
all a big test and once you’re in they’ll let ya go and we can all have a happy
reunion.”
“Shut
up, Aris,” Teresa said. It was actually the first thing she’d said in quite
some time that didn’t make Thomas want to punch her. She then turned back to
Thomas, avoiding his eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”
Aris
waved his blade, indicating that Thomas should walk forward. “Come on. Don’t
make me drag you in.”
Thomas
looked at him, struggling to keep a blank expression as his mind spun in a
million directions. A surge of panic boiled inside him. It was now or never.
Fight or die.
He
turned his gaze to the open doorway and started slowly walking toward it. Three
steps and he’d halved the distance. Teresa had straightened, her arms tensed in
case he caused trouble. Aris kept his weapon trained on Thomas’s neck.
Another
step. Another. Now Aris stood directly to his left, just two or three feet
away. Teresa was behind him, out of sight, the open doorway and the odd silver
room with walls covered in holes right in front of him.
He
stopped, looked sideways at Aris. “What did Rachel look like as she bled to
death?” It was a gamble, a pitch to throw him off.
Shocked
and hurt, Aris froze, giving Thomas the split second he needed.
He
jumped toward the other boy and swung his left arm in an arc to smack the knife
out of his hand. It clattered across the rocks. Thomas slammed his right fist
into Aris’s stomach, sending him to the ground, desperately trying to suck in a
breath.
The
click of metal against rock stopped Thomas from kicking the boy at his feet. He
looked up to see that Teresa had picked up her spear. They locked eyes for an
instant; then she charged him. Thomas threw his hands up to protect himself but
it was too late—the butt of the weapon swung through the air and smacked him on
the side of the head. Stars floated before his eyes as he fell, fighting to
stay conscious. Assoon as he hit the ground, he scrambled to his hands and
knees to get away.
But
he heard Teresa scream, and a second later the wood came crashing down on the
top of his skull.
With
a thump Thomas collapsed again; something wet oozed through his hair and
trickled onto both temples. Pain tore through his head, as if an axe had been
driven straight into his brain. It spread to the rest of his body, making him
nauseated. He somehow pushed off the ground and flopped onto his back tosee
Teresa with the weapon raised above her once more.
“Get
in the room, Thomas,” she said through heavy breaths. “Get in the room or I’ll
hit you again. I swear I’ll keep doing it till you pass out or bleed to death.”
Aris
had recovered and gotten back to his feet; he stood right next to her.
Thomas
reared both legs back and kicked out, connecting with a knee on both of them.
They screamed and crumpled, falling on top of each other. The physical effort
sent a horrible rush of pain raging through Thomas. White flashes blinded him;
the world was spinning. He groaned as he struggled to move, got back on his
stomach, tried to get his hands under himself. He’d barely pushed a few inches
off the ground when Aris landed on his back, slamming him down. Soon the boy’s
arm wrapped around Thomas’s neck, squeezing.
“You’re
going in that room,” Aris spit in his ear. “Help me, Teresa!”
Thomas
couldn’t find any strength to fight them off. The double blow to his head had
somehow sapped him of everything, as if all his muscles had gone dormant
because his brain didn’t have enough energy to tell them what to do. Soon
Teresa had grabbed both of his arms; she started dragging him toward the open doorway,
Aris pushing him. Thomas kicked feebly. Rocks dug into his skin.
“Don’t
do this,” he whispered, giving in to desperation. Every word sent a surge of
pain across his nerves. “Please …” All he saw now were flashes of white on
black. A concussion, he realized. He had a terrible, terrible concussion.
He
was barely aware of his body crossing the threshold, of Teresa resting his arms
against the cool metal of the back wall, stepping over him, helping Aris flip
his legs up and over so that he now lay in a heap, facing the side. Thomas
couldn’t even find the strength to look at them.
“No,”
he said, but it was merely a whisper. The image of the sick boy, Ben, being
Banished back in the Glade swam into his brain. An odd time to think it, but
now he knew how that kid had felt in those last seconds before the walls
slammed shut, trapping him in the Maze forever.“No,” he repeated; it was so
quiet he couldn’t imagine they heard him. He ached from head to toe.
“You’re
so stubborn,” he heard Teresa say. “You had to make it harder on yourself!
Harder on all of us!”
“Teresa,”
Thomas whispered. He dug through the pain and tried to call out to her telepathically,
even though it hadn’t worked in a long time. Teresa.
I’m
sorry, Tom,
she answered back, in his mind once again. But thanks for being our
sacrifice.
He
hadn’t realized the door was swinging closed, but it slammed shut just as that
last horrible word floated across his darkening thoughts.
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