The Scorch Trials (The Maze Runner Book 2) (54)
CHAPTER
54
Whispers
in the dark.
That
was what Thomas heard when he began returning to consciousness. Low but harsh,
like sandpaper rubbing across his eardrums. He didn’t understand any of it. It
was so dark it took him a second to realize that his eyes were open.
Something
cool and hard pressed against his face. The ground. He hadn’t moved since the
gas had knocked him out. Shockingly, his head didn’t hurt anymore. In fact,
nothing did. Instead, a feeling of refreshed euphoria swam through him, almost
made him dizzy. Maybe he was just happy to be alive.
He
got his hands under himself and pushed up into a sitting position. A look
around did nothing—not even the faintest glimmer of light broke up the utter
darkness. He wondered what had happened to the green glow of the door that
Teresa had shut on him.
Teresa.
His
elation drained away. Remembering what she’d done to him. But then …
He
wasn’t dead. Unless the afterlife was just a crappy room of blackness.
He
rested for a few minutes, letting his mind wake up and settle before he finally
got to his feet and started feeling around. Three cool metal walls with evenly
spaced upraised holes. One smooth wall that felt like plastic. He was
definitely in that same little room.
He
pounded on the door. “Hey! Anybody out there?”
His
thoughts started spinning. The memory-dreams, several now—so much to process,
so many questions. The things that had first come back to him with the Changing
in the Maze were slowly starting to come into focus, solidify. He’d been part
of WICKED’s plans, part of all this. He and Teresa had been close—best friends,
even. All of it had seemed right. Doing these things for the greater good.
Only,
Thomas didn’t feel so good about it now. All he felt was anger and shame. How
could anything justify what they’d done? What WICKED—what they—were
doing? Though he certainly didn’t think of himself this way, he and the others
were just kids. Kids! He didn’t like himself very much anymore. He wasn’t sure
when he’d reached this turning point. But something had cracked within him.
And
then there was Teresa. How could he ever have felt so much for her?
Something
cracked, then hissed, interrupting his line of thinking.
The
door started to open, slowly swinging outward. Teresa stood there in the pale
light of early morning, her face streaked with tears. As soon as there was
enough room, she threw her arms around him, pressing her face against his neck.
“I’m
so sorry, Tom,” she said; her tears were wet against his skin. “I’m so, so, so
sorry. They said they’d kill you if we didn’t do everything just like they told
us. No matter how horrible. I’m sorry, Tom!”
Thomas
couldn’t answer, couldn’t bring himself to hug back. Betrayal. The sign on
Teresa’s door, the conversation between the people in his dreams. Pieces were
falling into place. For all he knew, she was just trying to trick him again.
The betrayal meant he couldn’t trust her anymore, and his heart told him he couldn’t
forgive her.
On
some level, he realized that Teresa had kept her initial promise to him after
all. She had done those awful things against her will. What she had said in the
shack had been true. But he also knew that things could never, never be the
same between them.
He
finally pushed Teresa away. The sincerity in her blue eyes did little to diminish
his lingering doubt. “Uh … maybe you should tell me what happened.”
“I
told you to trust me,” she answered. “I told you that bad, bad things would
happen to you. But the bad stuff was all an act.” She smiled then, and it was
so pretty Thomas longed to find a way to forget what she’d done.
“Yeah,
but you didn’t seem to struggle too much, beating the klunk out of me with a
spear and throwing me into a gas chamber.” He couldn’t hide the mistrust raging
in his heart. He glanced at Aris, who looked sheepish, like he’d intruded on a
private conversation.
“I’m
sorry,” the boy said.
“Why
didn’t you tell me we knew each other before?” Thomas responded. “What …” He
didn’t know what to say.
“It
was all an act, Tom,” Teresa said. “You have to believe us. We were promised
from the very beginning that you wouldn’t die. That this chamber thing had its
own purposes and then it’d be over. I’m so sorry.”
Thomas
looked back at the still-gaping door. “I think I need some time to process all
this.” Teresa wanted him to forgive her—for everything to be how it used to be
immediately. And instinct told him to hide his bitter feelings, but it was
hard.
“What
happened in there, anyway?” Teresa asked.
Thomas
returned his gaze to her. “How about you talk first, then me. I think I earned
that much.”
She
tried to take his hand but he moved it, pretending he had an itch on his neck.
When he saw the flash of hurt cross her face, he felt the slightest bit of
vindication.
“Look,”
she said. “You’re right. You deserve an explanation. I think it’s okay to tell
you everything now—not that we know too much of the why.”
Aris
cleared his throat, an obvious interjection. “But, um, we better do it while
walking. Or running. We only have a few hours left. Today is the day.”
Those
words jarred Thomas completely out of his stupor. He looked down at his watch.
Only five and a half hours remained if Aris was right that they’d reached the
end of the two weeks—Thomas had kind of lost track himself, not knowing how
long he’d been in the chamber. And none of this other stuff mattered at all if
they didn’t make it to the safe haven. Hopefully Minho and the others had
already found it.
“Fine.
Let’s just forget this for now,” he said, then changed the subject. “Is
anything different out there? I mean, I saw it in the dark, but—”
“We
know,” Teresa interrupted. “There’s no sign of a building. Nothing. It looks
even worse in the daylight. Just forever and ever of flat wasteland. There
isn’t a tree or a hill, much less any safe haven.”
Thomas
looked at Aris, then back at Teresa. “Then what’re we supposed to do? Where do
we go?” He thought of Minho and Newt, the Gladers, Brenda and Jorge. “Have you
seen any of the others?”
Aris
answered. “All the girls from my group are down there, walking north like
they’re supposed to, already a couple miles out. We spotted your friends at the
base of the mountain a mile or two west of here. Can’t tell for sure, but looks
like no one new is missing, and they’re heading in the same direction as the
girls.”
Relief
filled Thomas. His friends had made it—hopefully all of them.
“We
gotta get moving,” Teresa said. “Just because nothing’s there doesn’t mean
anything. Who knows what WICKED is up to? We just have to do what they told us.
Come on.”
Thomas
had been experiencing a brief moment of wanting to give up, to sit down and
forget it all—let whatever was going to happen, happen. But almost as fast as
it came out, it disappeared. “Okay, let’s go. But you better tell me everything
you know.”
“I
will,” she answered. “You guys up for running once we’re out of these dead
trees?”
Aris
nodded, but Thomas rolled his eyes. “Please. I’m a Runner.”
She
raised her eyebrows. “Well, then, we’ll just have to see who stops before who.”
In
answer, Thomas stepped out of the small clearing and into the lifeless forest
first, refusing to dwell on the storm of memories and emotions that tried to
weigh him down.
The
sky didn’t lighten much as morning ticked on. Clouds blew in, gray and thick,
so thick that Thomas wouldn’t have had any idea of the time if it weren’t for
his watch.
Clouds.
Last time that had happened …
Maybe
this storm wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe.
Once
they left the dense pack of dead trees, they didn’t pause. An obvious trail led
toward the valley below, switching back and forth like a jagged scar on the
mountain face. Thomas estimated it would take a couple of hours just to get to
the bottom—running on the steep, slippery slopes looked like a good way to
break an ankle or leg. And if that happened, they’d never make it.
The
three agreed they’d hike quickly but safely, then book it once they were on
flat land. They started down—Aris, then Thomas, then Teresa. The dark clouds
churned above them as wind gusted in seemingly every direction. Just as Aris
had said, Thomas could see two separate packs of people in the desert below—his
Glader friends, not far from the base of the mountain, then Group B, maybe a
mile or two farther out.
Once
again Thomas was relieved, and his step felt lighter as he made his way.
After
the third switchback, Teresa spoke up from behind him. “So, guess I’ll start
the story from where we left off.”
Thomas
just nodded. He couldn’t believe how good he felt physically—his stomach
miraculously full, the pain from being beaten up gone, fresh air and brisk wind
to make him feel alive. He had no idea what was in that gas he’d breathed, but
it seemed far from poisonous. Still, his mistrust of Teresa itched at him; he
didn’t want to be overly nice.
“It
all started right when we were talking to each other in the middle of the
night—that very first one right after the rescue from the Maze. I was kind of
half asleep and then these people were in my room, all dressed funny. Creepy.
Baggy jumpsuits and goggles.”
“Serious?”
Thomas asked over his shoulder. They sounded just like the people he’d seen
after being shot.
“Freaked
me out—and I tried calling to you, but it suddenly cut out. The telepathy
thing, I mean. I don’t know how I knew, but it just vanished. From then until
now it’s only come and gone in spurts.”
Then
she spoke in his mind. You can hear me perfectly now, right?
Yeah.
Did you and Aris really talk while we were in the Maze?
Well
…
She
trailed off, and when Thomas looked back at her, she had a worried look on her
face.
What’s
wrong? he
asked, turning his attention back to the trail before he did something stupid
like trip and go tumbling down the mountain.
I
don’t wanna go into that yet.
“Go—”
He stopped himself before he said it out loud. Go into what?
Teresa
didn’t answer.
Thomas
tried as hard as he could to shout inside her mind. Go into what!
She
stayed silent a few seconds longer before finally answering.
Yeah,
he and I have been talking since I first showed up in the Glade. Mostly while I
was in thatstupid coma.
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