The Hunt for Dark Infinity 1r-2

by James Dashner

  Sato stepped through the doorway, trying not to show his eagerness too much. “Nice to meet you, uh, Klink.” Though toasty wasn’t exactly the word Sato would use to describe the air inside, it sure beat the frigid bite of the outside.

  Klink walked down the long, dark tunnel; Sato followed, listening, observing.

  “Can’t say as I’ve ever had a stranger knock on that door before,” Klink said. “Only when the Cleaners come back after droppin’ some Loons, that’s all. Quite nice to have a visitor after all these years.”

  “They throw crazy people off that cliff down there?” Sato asked. “When they do something bad or what?”

  “If they’ve done somethin’ bad, or grown too old, or if they just need more room-whatever tickles them Cleaners’ fancy. They ain’t too particular when it comes to shovin’ off the Loons, ya know.”

  They reached the end of the hallway where a small opening led through the stone to a sparsely decorated room: a floor rug, a chair, a filthy mattress. An old kerosene lamp flickered as it burned, somehow making the pathetic place look welcoming.

  “Spend most of my days here,” Klink said, looking around with his hands on his hips, proud of his homestead. “Beats the socks off where I used to live, that’s for sure. If anyone ever offers ya to live in a cave full of flying rats, I recommend you say no thanks and move right along.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Sato half-mumbled.

  “Want to sit a spell? Take a blink or two?”

  Sato shook his head. “No, I feel much better now that we’re inside. Could you take me to where they keep the inmates locked up? Maybe where they have the more recent ones?”

  “Right, come on then,” Klink said, moving along the hall again. They reached a metal grid door, which he slid open, a horrible screech piercing Sato’s ears. On the other side, a boxy elevator awaited.

  “This lift will take you all the way down to the Loons,” Klink said as he gestured for Sato to enter. “Down ya go, then.”

  Sato, fighting his uneasiness, stepped inside and turned to face Klink just as the man slid the grid door shut. His pale eyes peeked through the slits.

  “Best stay on your toes,” Klink said.

  “What do you mean?” Sato replied.

  Klink reached through a large space in the door-mangled and jagged like it had been ripped out with teeth-and slammed a lever inside the lift toward the floor. The elevator lurched and slowly started going down, the squeaks and squeals of chains and pulleys filling the air.

  “Didn’t you know?” As Klink’s body seemed to move upward, he called down to Sato just before he was out of sight. “Ent no one locked up ’round here!”

  The trip down the dark elevator shaft was long and cold-especially in light of Klink’s pronouncement that the crazies weren’t locked up at all. Sato’s stomach turned queasy from the jostling and bumping of the steel cage. He saw nothing outside the mesh of metal but black stone, heard nothing but the screech of the lift’s mechanics. Impossibly, the seconds stretched into minutes, and he thought Klink surely must have sent him to the middle of the Earth.

  Without any hint of slowing down, the elevator jolted to a stop, making Sato’s knees buckle. He sprawled across the cold mesh floor, biting his tongue when his chin slammed into the hard surface. He quickly pushed himself back to his feet, rubbing his jaw as he stepped forward to look through the lift door.

  Another dimly lit carved passageway led into the distance, no sign of anyone nearby. Having expected someone to greet him-crazy or not-he warily reached out to test the sliding door. It pushed aside easily, groaning as Sato slammed the metal mesh all the way open. The sound of the squeal echoed off the stone walls, and any doubt of his arrival was now wiped away. But still, no one came.

  He stepped out of the lift, his eyes focused along the dark tunnel since that seemed to be the only place from which someone could appear. He took another step. Another.

  And then he heard a scream.

  It started low, an eerie moan that rose in pitch, escalating quickly on the creepy scale to a perfect ten. Sato stopped moving to listen, the hairs on his neck stiff as arrows. The sound was the wail of a lost child mixed with the terrified squeal of an animal in the butchering house. The effect of it bouncing off the walls made it seem like it was coming from every direction at once. Sato felt like getting back into the steel cage of the lift and going back up to safety.

  The sound stopped, slicing silent as quickly as if someone had turned off a loud television. Shouts rang out, several voices yelling something incomprehensible-but Sato could clearly hear the anger and the lunacy in the voices. Sato’s wariness turned into downright terror.

  He closed his eyes, breathed, worked to calm himself. His heartbeat slowed; the blood in his veins stopped acting like it was trying to find a way to escape. After a full minute, he opened his eyes and took off his backpack. He rummaged around its contents until he found the packet containing the blood sample kit. There were three syringes in case one of them broke, each with a very long and nasty-looking needle covered with a plastic sheath to prevent unwanted pokes. He’d never been fond of shots, and the sight of the needles made him thankful he’d not be the one getting stuck.

  Sato set the syringes on the stone floor, then looked back at the elevator, checking to make sure he knew how it worked. Just inside the cage, the lever Klink had used jutted out of a dented box of rusty steel, slanted toward the ground.

  Sato entered the elevator, gripped the lever with both hands, and lifted; he groaned and felt blood rush to his face until the lever finally gave way and snapped up. With a loud clunk the elevator started moving upward. Sato quickly slammed the switch back down. The steel cage jolted to the floor with a metallic boom.

  Some escape route, he thought.

  He stepped out of the elevator, slung the backpack onto his shoulders, then very carefully put two of the syringes in his left jeans pocket, making sure not to push down on them. The other he held in his right hand, gripped like a dagger, and removed the protective plastic covering. Having no idea what he was about to get into, he had to be ready for quick action. Stab, extract, run, he thought.

  His only problem-other than perhaps being mauled to death by a bunch of crazy people-was knowing which of the asylum inmates were infected with Chu’s mysterious disease and which were simply crazy. They probably wouldn’t be too keen on chitchatting about it.

  Blowing a breath through his lips, Sato walked forward.

  Chapter 27

  A Sample of Blood

  All righty den,” Sally said after taking a long swallow from his water glass. He set it down on the nightstand, then turned his eyes toward Tick. “Your turn.”

  Sally had made Paul and Sofia summarize in their own words what he’d come to tell them. He said it was to make sure the gist of it got “nailed up in dem there noggins a’yorn.” As the weight of Sally’s information settled on their shoulders, Tick at least felt some ease in knowing more about what lay behind the craziness of the last few days.

  He put his right foot up on his left knee. “Well, we were supposed to be winked to the Realitant Headquarters at the Grand Canyon for a meeting about the weird stuff Reginald Chu is up to. But before that could happen, Chu tricked us and put a device on our arms that hijacked our nanolocators.”

  “Which means what, now?” Sally asked, his eyebrows raised.

  “That Reginald Chu controls us now. He can track us and wink us wherever he wants to. And there’s not a thing anyone can do about it.”

  Sally shook his head in disgust. “Purtin’ near one of da worst things I reckon a man can do. Matter-fact, breakin’ Rule Number 462 bans you from dem there Realitants ’til the day you is deader than a squirrel on a tire’s underbelly.”

  “Hey, let Tick finish,” Sofia said. “We need to make sure we all understand everything you told us.”

  “Fair ’nuff,” Sally said.

  “Anyway,” Tick continued, “you said it looks like Chu is
testing us and some other people to see who’s most worthy to help him in a secret project he’s working on. And the project has something to do with a disease or plague that’s making people go crazy in some of the Realities.”

  Tick paused, not really wanting to say the next part.

  “Get on wid it,” Sally prodded.

  “Master George wants us to keep going. He wants us to be the ones who make it. He wants us to win Chu’s contest. It’s the only way we can make sure the Realitants get there to stop it-whatever it is.”

  After a long pause, Paul said, “You’re the man, Tick. Took Sofia about three hours to say what you just said.”

  “Well,” Tick said, “that’s pretty much it, isn’t it? We have to keep going, even though it seems like Chu doesn’t care if we make it or die trying. Not that much fun to think about, let alone talk about.”

  Sofia stood from her chair and walked to the window, where she parted the curtain just enough to peek out. “This is so creepy. It was bad enough knowing Master George tracked us last year. Now we’ve got some power-hungry mad scientist controlling our lives. There has to be a way to get rid of those nanolocators, right?”

  “Then you’d be missing the point,” Paul said. “Which is shocking considering how long you took to talk about it.”

  “I’m not missing the point,” Sofia said as she turned back toward the group. “Even if we could get rid of them, we wouldn’t because we need to keep pretending that we’re trying to win.”

  “Not only that,” Tick said. “We need Chu to think we don’t know he’s behind it all.”

  “Dang, you kids are plumb smart,” Sally said. “When I’s a youngun like you, I was happier than a crawdaddy at high tide if I could add up my own two feet.”

  “I think you’re wrong, Tick,” Paul said, ignoring Sally. “I don’t think Chu gives one flip about what we know. He seems like a ruthless dude who doesn’t care jack-squat about rules or whatever. All he cares about is who’s standing at the end. It doesn’t matter how we get there.”

  “Maybe,” Tick said. “But it still seems smarter to play along as much as we can.”

  “Say we do make it,” Sofia asked, sitting on the corner of the bed, addressing Sally. “What are we supposed to do once we get there?”

  Sally nodded, pausing a long time before he answered. “Dat there’s a dang ol’ good question, miss. I reckon George is tryin’ to figger dat one out as we sit here talkin’.”

  “What are you going to do?” Paul asked.

  “I’ll be gettin’ on back to the homestead,” Sally said, rubbing his hands together. “Ya’ll keep mosin’ along on dis here joyride, and I’ll come find ya when we’s got further word.”

  “How are you going to find us? How did you find us?” Tick asked.

  “I’d reckoned you woulda done asked me dat. Took me forever to find ya the first time ’cuz the signal was weak. But don’t you remember me shovin’ my finger in ya ear?”

  Tick couldn’t have forgotten. “Yeah, what was that for?”

  “I put one of dem fancy Earwig Transponder thingamajigs in there. Now George can track ya better and stifle some of dem spyin’ devices inside ya.”

  Tick reached up and rubbed his ear, then poked his index finger in as deep as it would go. “You put what in my ear?”

  “Doncha fret, now,” Sally said. “Ain’t like it’s gonna eat your dang ol’ brain or nuttin’.”

  Tick was about to protest further when someone rapped on the door with a hard and urgent knock. Sofia and Paul jumped to their feet; Sally moved faster than Tick would have believed-running to the door and yanking it open in a matter of two seconds.

  No one stood there, but a note had been stuck to the door with a piece of clear tape. Sally ripped it off, read through the words, then walked over and handed it to Tick.

  “Read it,” Sally said. “I’m goin’ to look for the rat who left it.” He left the room, marching like he was going off to war.

  Tick shot a glance at Paul and Sofia, then read the note to them. “‘You people must think I’m an idiot. But I know everything. Everything. The sooner you accept that, the better. The game is on. Win or die.’” Tick paused, swallowed. “‘Sincerely, Reginald Chu.’”

  No one said a word for the longest time. Finally, Sofia spoke: “Looks like you were right, Paul.”

  Win or die, Tick thought. Win or die.

  The sounds grew louder-and more haunting-as Sato made his way down the long tunnel. A man screaming as if going through a horrible surgery without anesthetic. People arguing, their words impossible to make out. Someone crying. Lots of people crying. Mumbling, moaning, retching. Sato couldn’t imagine anything worse than being in this place.

  The roughly carved walls of the tunnel were dark and shiny, wet with rivulets and flat streams of water sluicing down its sides, disappearing into cracks on the floor. Odd lamps were set into the stone about every thirty feet, filthy glass surrounding a milky light that seemed a mix of old-fashioned wicks and electric sparks. Sato fully expected to see rats scurrying about, but thus far had seen no sign of life.

  Just the sounds. The terrible, terrible sounds.

  Up ahead, the tunnel made a turn to the right, a somewhat brighter light glowing from that direction. Huddled on the floor was a woman, her face draped in shadow, clutching her legs to her chest, shivering and mumbling the same phrase over and over. Sato couldn’t quite make out the words.

  His heart pounded as he walked toward the woman, sweat making the syringe clasped in his right hand slippery; he hid it behind his back. Was she infected? Could it be this easy? He stopped a few feet in front of her, thinking about each breath, trying to slow his heart down.

  “Excuse me,” he said, his voice breaking on the second word. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I’m looking for someone.”

  The woman looked up; Sato took a step backward. He didn’t know what he’d expected to see-someone hideous, scarred, a wart-infested witch, maybe-but the lady sitting in front of him was very pretty. She had perfect skin, and blue eyes that shone like crystals in the pale light. Her dark hair sprawled across her shoulders. White teeth flashed behind her still-moving lips, uttering the indecipherable words repeatedly.

  Despite her pleasant looks, she looked sad, tear streaks lining both cheeks.

  “Can you help me?” Sato said, fingering the syringe hidden from her sight. He took a step closer.

  The woman finally fell silent, pressing her lips together. Then she spoke, her voice soft but firm. “We’re only crazy when he’s not in our heads.”

  Sato reached for words to reply. The lady’s eyes showed no lunacy, no fear, no confusion. She seemed perfectly sane.

  “What do you mean?” he finally asked.

  “My name is Renee,” she replied, ignoring his question. “But right now he is in my head, and I will do whatever he says.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Sato said, taking a step back.

  Renee stood up. Her beauty shined despite tattered, dirty garments. She was short and thin, but held herself with confidence-back straight, shoulders square, chin up.

  “Why has George sent you here?” she asked.

  Sato took another step backward, this time bumping into the stone wall across from the woman. “How… how do you know-”

  “Stop acting the fool, young man. I know everything. I’m Reginald Chu, and I find it very interesting that you’ve come here, to this strange place, with a syringe in your hand. Why? ”

  Sato pulled his right hand from behind his back, looking down at it as if ashamed. He didn’t know which felt worse right then-his head or his stomach. “I don’t understand. What do you mean you’re Reginald Chu?”

  “I think I’m the one who doesn’t understand,” Renee replied. “George seems to know so much about my project, yet here you stand, without the slightest clue of the danger you are in. How can you trust such a leader?”

  “Nothing you say makes sense.”

 
“Everything I say makes sense.” Renee crossed the short span of the tunnel, stopping directly in front of Sato. “Once I have my partner, once Dark Infinity is fully functional, you’ll understand. The Realities are about to have a great change, my friend.”

  Sato swallowed, trying to build his courage. “You’re crazy, lady. You think Reginald Chu is controlling you somehow. Don’t you see how crazy that is? You need help.”

  “I told you,” Renee said with a sneer. “We’re not crazy until he leaves our heads.”

  “My boss-he thinks he can find a cure for you. If you’ll just let me…” He held the syringe up, raising his eyebrows in question.

  “A cure?” Renee backed off two steps, shaking her head. “A cure? Does that man think I’m a toady research assistant at some under-funded university? He thinks he’s going to stop me with a cure? He’ll sooner cure cancer, Parkinson’s, diabetes, and regenerate amputated limbs before he’ll stop Dark Infinity.”

  Confusion swarmed like a pack of bees inside Sato’s head. The lady really and truly thought she was Reginald Chu. And it worried Sato that he was sliding toward that same belief as well. “What is Dark Infinity?”

  Renee folded her arms. “As they say in your Reality, that’s on a need-to-know basis and you don’t need to know. A cure. Ha.” She barked a laugh.

  “If you’re so confident, why not give me a blood sample? And then I’ll leave.”

  Renee held out her hand to him. “Come with me,” she said. “I want to give you a taste of what Dark Infinity will become. And then I want you to go back and report it to your buffoon of a leader. All the Realitant do-gooders can then have fun dreading the day I take over their lives.”

  Sato shook his head. “Give me a sample first. Then I’ll go.”

  Renee stared at him for a long minute, her blue eyes seeming to glow. “You’re brave for someone so young. Maybe you should have been included in my special trials. Of course, I need a lot more than bravery-too bad you’re not more like your friend Atticus Higginbottom.”