The Maze Runner Series Complete Collection (102 page)

The note
.

Thomas stood dazed for a moment, then ran to the bathroom and locked the door. The note! In all the chaos of the Crank Palace, he’d completely forgotten about it. Newt had said Thomas would know when the time came to read it. And he should’ve done it before they’d left him in that rancid place. If the time hadn’t been right then, when would it have ever been?

He pulled the envelope out of his pocket and ripped it open, then took out the slip of paper. The soft lights that ringed the mirror lit up the message in a warm glow. It was two short sentences:

Thomas read it over and over, wishing the words would change. To think that his friend had been so scared that he’d had the foresight to
write those words made him sick to his stomach. And he remembered how angry Newt had been at Thomas specifically when they’d found him in the bowling alley. He’d just wanted to avoid the inevitable fate of becoming a Crank.

And Thomas had failed him.

Thomas decided not to tell the others about the message from Newt. He didn’t see what possible purpose it could serve. It was time to move on, and he did so with a coldness that he didn’t know he had.

They spent two nights in the Berg, resting up and talking plans. None of them knew much about the city or had any solid connections. Their conversations always returned to Gally and the Right Arm. The Right Arm wanted to stop WICKED. And if it was true that WICKED might begin the Trials all over again with new Immunes, then Thomas and his friends had the same goals as the Right Arm.

Gally. They had to go back to Gally.

On the morning of the third day after their run-in with Newt, Thomas showered, then joined the others for a quick meal. It was obvious how anxious everyone was to get moving after two days of sitting around. The plan was to go to Gally’s apartment and start from there. There’d been a little worry about what Newt had told them—that some Cranks were planning to break out of the Palace and go to Denver—but there’d been no sign of them from the air.

Once they were ready, Thomas and the others gathered at the hatch door.

“Let me do the talking again,” Jorge said.

Brenda nodded. “And when we get in, we’ll find a cab.”

“Fine,” Minho muttered. “Let’s quit this shuck yapping and go.”

Thomas couldn’t have said it better himself. Movement was the
only thing that would deaden the despair he felt about Newt and his dreadful note.

Jorge pressed a button and the huge ramp of the cargo door started to pivot downward. The door had only opened halfway when they saw three people standing just outside the Berg. By the time the bottom edge thumped the ground, Thomas had realized that they weren’t there with a welcome banner.

Two men. One woman. Wearing the same metallic protective masks as Red Shirt back in the coffee shop. The men held pistols and the lady had a Launcher. Their faces were dirt-smeared and sweaty, and some of their clothes had been torn, as if they’d had to fight their way through an army to get there. Thomas could only hope it was security being extra cautious.

“What
is
this?” Jorge asked.

“Shut your mouth, Munie,” one of the guys said, his mechanized voice making his words all the more sinister. “Now step down here nice and easy, or you won’t like what happens. Don’t. Try. Anything.”

Thomas looked past their assailants and was shocked to see that both gates leading into Denver were standing wide open and two people lay lifeless in the narrow alley leading to the city.

Jorge was the first to respond. “You start firing that thing,
hermano
, and we’ll be on top of you like stink on dookie. You may get one of us, but we’ll get all three of you punks.”

Thomas knew it was an empty threat.

“We’ve got nothing to lose,” the man replied. “Give it your best shot. I’m pretty confident I’ll nail two of you before anybody takes a single step.” He lifted his gun a couple of inches and aimed at Jorge’s face.

“Fair enough,” Jorge muttered, and put his hands in the air. “You win for now.”

Minho groaned. “You are one tough slinthead.” But he raised his hands, too. “You guys better not drop your guard. That’s all I’m saying.”

Thomas knew they had no choice but to go along. He put up his hands and was the first to walk down the ramp. The others followed right behind, and they were led around to the back of the Berg, where an old beat-up van waited, the engine rumbling. A lady in a protective mask sat at the steering wheel, and two others holding Launchers sat on the bench seat behind her.

One of the men opened the side door, then gestured inside with a nod of the head. “In you go. One wrong move and bullets start flying. Like I said, we’ve got nothing to lose. And I can think of a lot worse things than the world with one or two less Munies in it.”

Thomas climbed into the back of the van, all the time working at their odds. Six versus six, he thought. But they had weapons.

“Who’s paying you to steal Immunes?” he asked as his friends clambered in to sit beside him. He wanted someone to confirm what Teresa had told Gally, that Munies were being rounded up and sold.

Nobody responded.

The three people who’d greeted them at the Berg got into the van and closed the doors. Then they aimed their weapons toward the back.

“There’s a pile of black hoods in the corner,” the lead guy said. “Put them on. And it won’t sit well with me if I catch you peeking during the ride. We like to keep our secrets nice and safe.”

Thomas sighed—arguing would be pointless. He grabbed one of the hoods and slipped it over his head. All he saw was darkness as the van lurched into motion with a roar of the engine.

It was a smooth ride, but it seemed to last forever. And so much time to think about things wasn’t exactly what Thomas needed—especially without being able to see. He was nauseated by the time they finally stopped.

When the side door of the van opened, Thomas instinctively reached up to take off his hood.

“Don’t do it,” the lead guy snapped. “Don’t you dare take those off until we tell you to. Now get out, nice and slow. Do us a favor and keep yourselves alive.”

“You sure are a tough shank,” Thomas heard Minho say. “Easy to do when you’ve got six people with guns. Why don’t you—”

He was cut off by the thump of a hard punch, followed by a loud grunt.

Hands grabbed Thomas and pulled him out of the van so roughly that he almost fell down. Once he got his balance, the person yanked again and started leading him away; Thomas was barely able to keep his feet under himself.

He kept quiet as he was led down a set of stairs and then down a long hallway. They stopped, and he heard the swipe of a key card, the click of a lock, then the creak of a door opening. As it did, the murmurs of hushed voices filled the air, as if dozens of people were waiting inside.

The woman gave him a push and he stumbled a few steps forward.
He immediately reached up and yanked the hood off his head, just as the door closed behind him.

He and the others stood in a huge room filled with people, most of them sitting on the floor. Dull lights in the ceiling illuminated the few dozen faces that stared back at them, some of them dirty, most of them scratched or bruised.

A woman came forward, her face twisted by fear and anxiety. “What’s it like out there?” she asked. “We’ve been in here for a few hours, and things were falling apart. Has it gotten worse?”

More people started to approach their group as Thomas answered. “We were outside the city—they got us at the gates. What do you mean things were falling apart? What happened?”

She looked at the floor. “The government declared a state of emergency, without any kind of warning. Then the police, the cop machines, the Flare testers—they all disappeared. All at once, it seemed. We got snagged by these people trying to get work at the city building. There wasn’t even time to figure out what was happening or why.”

“We were guards over at the Crank Palace,” another man said. “Others like us had been disappearing left and right, so we finally gave up and came to Denver a few days ago. We got nabbed at the airport, too.”

“How’d everything get so bad, so suddenly?” Brenda asked. “We were here three days ago.”

The man let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “The whole city is full of idiots thinking they’ve been containing the virus. It’s been a long and slow rumble, but it’s all finally exploded in our faces. The world has no chance—the virus is too strong. Some of us have seen this coming for a long time.”

Thomas’s gaze wandered back to the group of people approaching. He froze when he saw Aris.

“Minho, look,” he said, elbowing him and pointing.

The boy from Group B had already broken into a grin and was jogging over. Behind him, Thomas could see a couple of girls who had been in Aris’s Maze group. Whoever these people were who had taken them, they were good at their job.

Aris reached Thomas and stood in front of him as if he were about to give him a hug, then held out a hand instead. Thomas shook it.

“Glad you guys are okay,” the boy said.

“You too.” Seeing Aris’s familiar face made Thomas realize that any bitterness he’d felt about what had happened between them in the Scorch was gone. “Where is everyone?”

Aris’s face darkened. “Most of them aren’t with us anymore. They got taken by another group.”

Before Thomas could process what he’d said, Teresa appeared. Thomas had to clear his throat to get rid of the lump that had suddenly formed there. “Teresa?” He felt such a flurry of conflicted emotions he could barely get the word out.

“Hey, Tom.” She stepped close to him, her eyes sad. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Her eyes moistened with tears.

“Yeah, you too.” Part of him hated her; part of him had missed her. He wanted to scream at her for leaving them behind at WICKED.

“Where did you guys go?” she asked. “How did you get all the way to Denver?”

Thomas was confused. “What do you mean, where did we go?”

She stared at him for a few seconds. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Thomas squinted. “What’re you up to now?”

“I’m not up to …” Defiance gripped her voice. “There’s obviously been some miscommunication. Look, most of our group was captured by different bounty hunters yesterday—they’ve probably already been taken back and sold to WICKED. Including Frypan. I’m sorry.”

An image of the cook popped into Thomas’s head. He didn’t know if he could handle losing yet another friend.

Minho leaned in to speak. “I can see you’re as cheerful as always. So glad to be back in your sunshiny presence.”

Teresa completely ignored him. “Tom, they’ll be moving us soon. Please come talk to me. In private. Now.”

Thomas hated the fact that he
wanted
to, and he tried to hide his eagerness. “The Rat Man already gave me his big speech. Please tell me you don’t agree with him and think I should go back to WICKED.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” She paused, as if battling her pride. “Please.”

Thomas stared at her for a long moment, not sure how he felt. Brenda was just a few feet away, and it was clear she wasn’t happy to see Teresa.

“Well?” Teresa asked. She motioned to their surroundings. “Not a lot to do in here but wait around. Are you too busy to talk to me?”

Thomas had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He pointed to a couple of empty chairs in the corner of the large room. “Let’s go, but make it quick.”

Thomas sat with his head against the wall, arms folded. Teresa had her legs pulled up under her, sitting so that she faced him. Minho had warned him not to listen to a word she said as they’d walked away.

“So,” Teresa said.

“So.”

“Where do we start?”

“This was your idea. You tell me. We can be done if you don’t have anything to say.”

Teresa sighed. “Maybe you could start by giving me the benefit of the doubt and quit acting like a jerk. Yes, I know I did things in the Scorch, but you also know why I did them—to save you in the long run. I didn’t know it was all about Variables and patterns then. How about giving me a little credit? Talk to me like a regular person.”

Thomas let silence fill the air for a few moments before he answered. “Okay, fine. But you left me behind at WICKED, which shows you—”

“Tom!” she yelled, looking as if she’d been slapped. “We did
not
leave you behind! What are you talking about?”

“What are
you
talking about?” Thomas was thoroughly confused now.

“We didn’t leave you behind! We came after you.
You
left
us
behind!”

Thomas could only stare at her. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

“All anyone talked about at the complex was that you, Newt, and Minho had broken out and were in the surrounding forest somewhere. We looked but didn’t see any sign of you. I’ve been hoping ever since that somehow you made it back to civilization. Why do you think I was so thrilled to see you alive!”

Thomas felt a stirring of familiar anger. “How can you possibly expect me to believe that? You probably knew exactly what Rat Man tried to tell me—that they needed me, that I’m the so-called Final Candidate.”

Teresa slouched. “You think I’m the most evil person to ever walk the earth, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for him to answer her, though. “If you had just gotten your memories back like you were supposed to, you’d see that I’m the same Teresa I’ve always been. I did what I did in the Scorch to save you, and I’ve been trying to make up for it ever since.”

Thomas was having a hard time staying angry—she didn’t seem to be acting. “How can I believe you, Teresa? How?”

She looked up at him, and her eyes were glassy. “I swear to you, I don’t know everything about the Final Candidate—that stuff was developed after we went to the Maze, so I have no memories of that. But what I
did
learn was that WICKED doesn’t intend to stop the Trials until they get their blueprint. They’re preparing to start another round, Thomas. WICKED is gathering more Immunes to begin testing if the Trials didn’t work. And I can’t do it again. I left to find you. That’s it.”