THE SCORCH TRIALS tmr-2

by Джеймс Дашнер

  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 that stupid coma.

  CHAPTER 55

  It took every ounce of Thomas's willpower not to stop and turn toward her. What? Why didn't you tell me about him back in the Maze? As if he needed another reason to dislike either of them.

  "Why'd you guys stop talking?" Aris suddenly asked. "You yappin' about me in those pretty little heads of yours?" Impossibly, he didn't seem the least bit sinister at all anymore. It was almost as if everything that had happened back in the dead forest had been a creation of Thomas's imagination.

  Thomas let out a heavy breath that had been building in his lungs. "I can't believe this. You two've been—" He stopped, realizing that maybe he wasn't so surprised after all. He'd seen Aris in the splotchy memories of his most recent dream. He was a part of this, whatever this was. And the way they'd acted toward each other in that brief recall seemed to say they were on the same side. Used to be, anyway.

  "Shuck it," Thomas finally said. "Just keep talking."

  "All right,"Teresa said. "There's a lot of stuff to explain, so from now on just keep quiet and listen. Got it?"

&
nbsp; Thomas's legs were starting to burn from their steady pace on the slope. "Okay, but. . . how do you know when you're talking to me and when you're talking to him? How does that work?"

  "It just does. That's like me asking how you know when you're telling your right leg to move and when you're telling your left leg to move. I just. . . know. It's built into my brain somehow."

  "We've done it, too, man," Aris said. "Don't you remember?"

  "Of course I remember," Thomas muttered, annoyed and frustrated on so many levels. If only he could have everything back—every last memory—he knew the pieces would fall into place and he could just move forward. He couldn't fathom why WICKED felt it was so important to keep their minds clean of memory. And why the occasional leakage lately? Was that on purpose or an accident? A lingering effect of the Changing?

  Too many questions. Too many shuck questions, all without answers. "All right," he finally said. "I'll keep my mouth and brain shut. Keep going."

  "We can talk about Aris and me later. I don't even remember what we spoke about—I lost almost everything when I woke up. Our comas had to be part of the Variables, so maybe we could communicate just so we wouldn't go crazy. I mean, we were part of setting it all up, right?"

  "Setting it all up?"Thomas asked. "I don't—" Teresa reached forward and swatted him on the back. "Thought you were gonna be quiet?"

  "Yeah,"Thomas grumbled.

  "Anyway, these people came into my room dressed in those creepy outfits and my telepathy with you cut off. I was scared and only half awake. Part of me thought it was just a bad nightmare. Then the next thing I knew, they put something over my mouth that smelled horrible and then I passed out. When I woke up I was lying in a bed in a different room and a bunch of people were sitting in chairs on the opposite side of this weird glass wall. I couldn't see it until I touched it—almost like a force field or something."

  "Yeah," Thomas said. "We had something like that, too."

  "So then they started talking to me. That's when they told me this whole plan of what Aris and I had to do to you—and they expected me to tell him. By, you know, speaking in his mind, even though he was now with your group. Our group. Group A. They took me from my room and sent me to be with Group B; then they told us about the mission to the safe haven, about having the Flare. We were scared, confused, but we had no choice. We went through these underground tunnels until we got to the mountains—we avoided the city altogether. When you and I met in that little building, and then everything that happened from the time we came down to you in the valley with all those weapons— all of that was planned."

  Thomas thought about the sketchy memories he'd had in his dreams. Something told him he'd known that a scenario like this might need to happen before he ever went to the Glade and the Maze. He had a hundred questions to ask Teresa, but decided to hold back for a little while longer.

  They turned at another switchback; then Teresa continued. "I only know two things for sure. One, they said that if I did anything against their plan they'd kill you. Said they 'had other options,' whatever that means. The second thing I know is that the reason for all this was that you had to truly and absolutely feel betrayed. The whole purpose of what we did to you was to ensure that that happened."

  Again Thomas thought of the memories. He and Teresa had both used the word patterns right before he left her. What did it mean?

  "So?" Teresa asked after they'd walked in silence for a while.

  "So . . . what?" Thomas replied.

  "So what do you think?"

  "That's it? That's your whole explanation? I'm supposed to feel all happy now?"

  "Tom, I couldn't take any chances. I was convinced they'd kill you unless I went along. No matter what, in the end you had to feel like I'd completely betrayed you. That's why I put so much into it. But why this was all so important? I have no idea."

  Thomas realized suddenly that all this information had started another headache. "Well, you sure were good at it. What about in that building? When you kissed me? And . . . why did Aris need to be involved in all this?"

  Teresa grabbed his arm and made him stop and turn to face her. "They had everything calculated. All for the Variables. I don't know how it all fits together."

  Thomas slowly shook his head. "Well, none of this crap makes any sense to me. And excuse me for feeling a little ticked off."

  "Did it work?"

  "Huh?"

  "For some reason they wanted you betrayed, and it worked. Right?"

  Thomas paused, looked into her blue eyes for a long time. "Yeah. It did."

  "I'm sorry for what I did. But you're alive, and so am I. And so is Aris."

  "Yeah," he repeated. He really didn't feel like talking to her anymore.

  "WICKED got what they want, and I got what I want." Teresa looked at Aris, who'd kept walking for a while and now stood down on the next level of the path. " Aris, turn around, face the valley."

  "What?" he replied. He looked confused. "Why?"

  "Just do it." She didn't have the mean streak in her voice anymore, hadn't since the gas chamber, but if anything, that made Thomas even more suspicious. What was she up to now?

  Aris sighed and rolled his eyes, but did what she said, turning his back to them.

  Teresa didn't hesitate. She wrapped her arms around Thomas's neck, pulling him in. He didn't have enough will to resist.

  They kissed, but nothing stirred inside Thomas. He felt nothing.

  CHAPTER 56

  The wind intensified, whipping and swirling.

  Thunder rumbled in the darkening sky, giving Thomas an excuse to pull away from Teresa. He decided again to hide his hard feelings. Time was running out and they still had a long way to go.

  Doing his best acting job, he gave Teresa a smile and said, "Guess I got it—you did a bunch of weird stuff, but you were forced to, and now I'm alive. That’s it, right?"

  "That's about it."

  "Then I'm gonna quit thinking about it. We need to catch up with the others." The best chance he had to make it to the safe haven was to work with Teresa and Aris, so he would. He could think about Teresa and all she'd done later.

  "If you say so," she said with a forced smile, as if she sensed that something wasn't quite right. Or maybe she didn't like the prospect of facing the Gladers after what had happened.

  "Are you guys done up there?" Aris yelled, still facing the other direction.

  "Yes!" Teresa called back. "And don't expect me to ever kiss you on the cheek again. I think my lips have a fungus now."

  Thomas almost gagged at hearing that. He set off down the mountain again, moving before Teresa tried to hold his hand.

  * * *

  It took another hour to get to the bottom of the mountain. The slope leveled a bit as they got closer, allowing them to increase their pace. Eventually the switchbacks stopped altogether, and they jogged the last mile or so to the flat and desolate wasteland stretching to the horizon. The air was hot, but the overcast sky and the wind kept it bearable.

  Thomas still couldn't get a very good look at the slowly converging Groups A and B up ahead, especially now that he'd lost the bird's-eye view and dust had clouded the air. But both the boys and the girls still moved in their own tight packs, heading north. Even from his vantage point, they appeared to be leaning into the stiffening wind as they walked.

  Thomas's eyes stung from the dirt flying through the air. He kept wiping at them, which only made it worse, made the surrounding skin feel raw. The world continued to darken as the clouds thickened in the sky above.

  After a quick break to eat and drink—their remaining supplies were dwindling fast—the three of them took a moment to observe the other groups.

  "They're just walking up there," Teresa said, pointing ahead with one hand while shielding her eyes from the wind with the other. "Why aren't they running?"

  "Because we still have over three hours until the deadline," Aris responded, looking at his watch. "Unless we totally figured wrong, th
e safe haven should be only a few miles from this side of the mountains. But I don't see anything."

  Thomas hated to admit it, but the hope that they were just missing something from a distance had faded away. "By the way they're dragging, they obviously can't see it, either. It must not be there—they don't have anything to run to but more desert."

  Aris glanced at the gray-black sky "Looks ugly up there. What if we get another one of those nice lightning storms?"

  "We'd be better off staying in the mountains if that happens," Thomas said. Wouldn't that be a perfect way to end all this, he thought. Burned to a crisp by bolts of electricity while searching for some safe haven that had never been there in the first place.

  "Let's just catch up to them," Teresa said. "Then we can figure out what to do." She turned to look at both boys and put her hands on her hips. "You guys ready?"

  "Yeah,"Thomas said. He was trying not to sink into the pit of panic and worry that threatened to swallow him. There had to be an answer to all this. Had to.

  Aris just shrugged in response.

  "Then let's run," Teresa said. And before Thomas could answer she was already gone, with Aris close at her heels.

  Thomas took a deep breath. For some reason it all reminded him of the first time he'd run out into the Maze with Minho. Which worried him. He exhaled and set off after the other two.

  After maybe twenty minutes of running, the wind forcing him to work twice as hard as he'd ever had to in the Maze, Thomas spoke out to Teresa in his mind. I think I've had some more memories come back to me lately. In my dreams. He'd been wanting to tell her, but not really in front of Aris. A test, more than anything, to see how she responded to what he'd remembered. See if he could find any clues to her true intentions. Really? she answered.

  He could sense her shock. Yeah. Weird, random things. Stuff from when I was a little kid. And . . . you were there, too. I had glimpses of how WICKED treated us. A little about right before we went to the Glade.