(A/N: If you've read Kill Order and Fever Code, that's great, because there's going to be quite a few references to those. If not, you don't have to have read them - things will still make sense without you needing to read these books. But it would be handy, just saying. Also, I've worked out the ages: Teresa would've been 18 in the Maze Runner and Thomas would've been 14 or 15. There's no clue as to the ages of the others so I've just made it up. Also, so, so sorry for keeping you all waiting so long - I've got no real excuse, only that I enjoy reading too much on this site for my own good. Hopefully, making this chapter a little more lengthy will make up for that.)
Chapter 5
Teresa reached into Aris' mind. Before Thomas and Rachel had been sent up, they'd had to practise constantly on their telepathic link. For Teresa and Thomas, it was just as natural as breathing and they put precious little thought into it. It had been the same for Aris and Rachel. That was how WICKED had designed the chips in their heads. Of course, they were all connected and if they wanted to, they could talk - all four of them - to each other at once. It just took slightly more effort since they were only used to talking telepathically to their counterparts in their respective Groups. But once they got used to it, it was no problem.
Teresa had practised so often with Aris that it now came as easily as when she reached out to Thomas.
I'm finally here, she told him.
You've only just arrived? was the response. What've you guys being doing? The girls in Group B have pretty much solved this thing!
There's been a number of complications, but I'm here now. We're just going to have to speed up the process a bit. Doors are staying open tonight instead of after me being here for a few days first.
You better hope those boys are smart or else we're all doomed! You know what WICKED's like!
She heard (felt) him snorting mockingly, but she could sense his uneasiness. The dread that was slowly turning to fear. They both knew what was at stake and how much depended on them. They both knew what would happen if something were to go wrong or either of them were to fail.
We won't fail, Teresa assured Aris. We can't!
You best give your Group a push in the right direction, though. They won't get it without you, especially if WICKED is shortening down their timescale!
Teresa nodded and knew that Aris could feel it. It was so incredibly weird how the telepathy worked - how they knew this stuff about each other without actually knowing it! She wouldn't be able to explain it should anyone ever ask about it.
I want to stay here as long as I can draw it out, though, Teresa eventually told her friend. I'm not sure if I'm ready for Phase Two!
You know what's happening in Phase Two?! Aris sounded impressed.
I know the absolute basics. You know the names they've given us - they're tattooed into our backs! The Betrayer and the Partner!
Yeah, I know what you mean. Apparently something's gonna happen to Rachel at the end of the Maze Trials! Not sure what - haven't been briefed fully yet!
Through the connection, Teresa felt Aris' upset. He loved Rachel, she knew, just as she loved Thomas. There was only four years between them, although she knew that he only saw her as his best friend. Aris, however, loved Rachel in the brotherly-sisterly kind of way, whereas she really loved Thomas. She'd never shared her feelings on the matter with anyone. Nobody at WICKED had time for a teenage girl's crush! Thomas - before his memories were taken - had had a job to do and she'd worried that telling him about her feelings would either distract him from that job or ruin the connection they already had. Best friends would do just fine.
She felt a stab of... Well, she wasn't sure what it was, but it didn't feel good. It was related to her anxiety on what she'd have to do to Thomas. She knew more than just the basics. She knew a lot more. She also knew what was going to happen to Rachel, but tried not to think too much on it; it made her feel sick to the stomach and incredibly guilt-ridden whenever she did. WICKED trusted her a lot more than the others and that meant more access to more information. It also meant more secrecy. She was dying to tell Aris so he could save Rachel when they finally escaped the Maze, but she couldn't. That would mean dire consequences for all of them and she wouldn't allow anymore innocent people to be caught in the crossfire! Whether they were willing to accept it or not, they all had a job to do, a part to play. She'd be damned if she let anyone get in the way.
You know something, don't you? Aris asked as he sensed the shift in emotions.
I know a lot of things, Aris.
You know what I meant. What will happen to Rachel? Is Phase Two really going ahead? Teresa!
Emotional responses have to be genuine. I'm not allowed to tell you, I'm sorry. And really she was, but what else could she do?
Will Rachel be okay, though?
She sighed, choosing the next words carefully.
You have to understand, Aris, that she's not one of WICKED's top Candidates. Compared with others, her results and Killzone activities are lacking. She... well...
Doesn't hold the same amount of promise as we do?
Yeah... That.
Aris shut off the connection to think over it all and Teresa couldn't blame him. She tried not to dwell too much on how it would be like for her if it was Thomas they were talking about. She didn't know Rachel too well and, as awful as it was, Teresa couldn't say she'd miss her or feel any pain after her death. It was cruel to say, but she was just glad it wasn't her Tom in that position. Her Tom?! Since when had she started thinking like that?
He wasn't hers! Quite frankly, he wasn't even WICKED's! He'd let them down and he was only still here because they needed to find a cure. After that, they wouldn't need him.
WICKED could read thoughts. Teresa seemed to be the only one to understand this. All the telepathic conversations, all the brainwaves, every dream, it was all recorded into a computer database. The chips in their heads weren't just for measuring out the Killzone or allowing them to talk in each other's heads: they were for keeping track of every single thought. Total control. WICKED was allowing no room for errors. The more measures they took with mapping out patterns in brains, the more likely they'd find a cure and at a quicker rate.
Thomas had been plotting his rebellion for a long time even if he hadn't realised himself. Teresa wasn't exactly sure when it had started, but it had only properly started to grow when he found out his friends' memories had been taken. That had never been a part of the plan... well, at least not his plan! Seeing all the terrible things WICKED's Subjects had been exposed to had really set off a burning desire to do something to help. Then Chuck had been sent off, then the Purge had fallen into effect, then finding out about the Scorch. It had all served to strike up this ridiculous plan in Thomas' head that he could sneak himself and Teresa into the Maze, help their friends escape, set Group B free, then run away to freedom! She supposed he'd always been against WICKED, right from the word go.
But as a child, they'd been able to put a stop to it (at least temporarily) by using fear and guilt against him. His emotions had always run strong, he'd always worn his heart on his sleeve, and WICKED had been able to play on that to their advantage. But as he'd grown older, that fear had been replaced with a rebellious streak, his guilt with an uncontrollable desire, his obligation to help the world taken over by anger.
Thomas thought that the only reason they'd agreed to let him go into the Maze was because they saw it as an opportunity for hundreds more patterns and Variables. In truth, they'd actually been planning it a long time. It was the reason for their telepathy, their privileged positions, the signs in the Scorch that he was yet to find out about. The only reason he'd been okay with being sent in was because he'd been led to believe that he and Teresa could keep their memories.
Teresa sighed. He was so trusting, gullible, naive, believing. Thomas only sought to see the good in others. He hadn't been able to see the real purpose behind the experiments. He hadn't understood the need for all the endless lessons and medical tests. He'd never really understood anything. He'd never seen the purpose in WICKED or the motives that drove them. Perhaps, that was why they had grown more distant - Teresa and Thomas - as they grew up. Teresa had seen the horrors of the world, been born into it, grew up surrounded by it. Thomas had only ever seen just the smallest glimpses into what she'd witnessed head-on!
She mustn't let that distract her, though. She had a job to do.
The Doors hadn't closed that night. Everyone was blaming her. Thomas thought she was innocent and kept coming to talk to her while she was in the Slammer, as the Gladers liked to call it. He'd said she was connected to bad memories, but, since she was in the Maze now, she obviously couldn't remember anything and couldn't be held accountable for what had happened. He'd told her that he could tell they'd obviously been close before all this (proof in the kiss she'd given him) and that she most likely wouldn't want to deliberately harm him. He suggested that maybe she'd been forced. Whatever the case, they were all in the same boat now and needed to stick together, according to Thomas.
Bless his trusting, forgiving heart, she thought.
After talking to her for a little, he had to go. All the boys were hiding in the Homestead for the night. She knew that wouldn't keep the Grievers out. They probably all knew it, too. But none of them knew what else to do.
Teresa knew the Grievers wouldn't come after her - the people controlling them would only go after those with the weakest Killzones - but she still felt a stab of icy fear plunge down into her heart as she heard them approach. The sounds were awful! She got a terrible fright when she heard shouting a minute or so later and realised it was Gally. So, everything was still going to plan. That's good, I suppose, she thought to herself. But still, she tried to block out all the screams and shouts and Griever howls and the mechanical whirring.
Just because she understood what had to be done and why, it didn't mean she wasn't allowed to disagree and dislike certain parts of it. Certain noises tended to trigger certain memories with her, no matter how hard she tried to forget everything before WICKED.
These thoughts followed her into her sleep.
Trina is ill.
Really ill.
She's caught the crazy virus.
Deedee doesn't know when it happened, but it started to take effect shortly after they were brought here.
The crazy people have been keeping them in this basement for a while now and Trina's illness is only continuing to get worse. Lana is trying to help where she can, but Deedee knows it's not worth the effort. She sees how pointless it is. She also knows that Lana knows it, too, but the woman isn't giving up. Maybe that's why the little girl feels so safe around her.
But 'safe' is only a superficial term, only a small feeling she gets very rarely. It no longer means what it used to.
Deedee sniffles and cuddles into Trina.
Trina doesn't cuddle back like she did before.
It's like she's forgotten everything.
This makes Deedee cry harder. She wants Mark and Alec. She doesn't know what's happened to them because she hasn't seen them since the fire in the forest. They're probably dead.
She knows they must have ran into the man with no ears and she knows that he likes to kill.
He didn't always. He used to tell her and her brother stories and bring their family food and make jokes. He used to say how Deedee and her brother reminded him of his own children and how he would look after them if her parents couldn't.
She doesn't have parents anymore; they're both dead. She doesn't have a brother anymore, either - he's probably dead, too. She doesn't have her friends or the man who used to have ears or her neighbours. She doesn't have Trina or Mark or Alec. And now she doesn't even have Lana! The crazies came in a few minutes back, beat up the poor woman, then dragged her outside! Since then, the screaming and shouting and crying noises from outside have only gotten worse.
Everyone she ever knew and cared for is either dead or crazy. They're all gone and she's left all alone.
Thomas was up to something and Teresa knew it. He knew that she knew. She didn't know what the plan was and he knew that. He was doing a good job of keeping it from her. She could easily find out by reaching further into his mind, but she didn't think he'd be ready for such an invasion of privacy so soon after learning to talk back to her through his head. So, she just had to wait to find out.
Teresa had a feeling that it was a really stupid plan that might possibly kill him. It made her worry because she knew he wouldn't give up on any idea once he got going and he was fully willing to risk everything, including his own life!
And there it was.
Suddenly, she had a very sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, telling her she knew what was going to happen.
She tried to block out that thought.
It didn't work.
The more she tried to escape it, the more it chased her, until that was the only thing she could think of. There was no other option. The Gladers were running out of time and ideas and had grown desperate. Thomas was that desperate to help and get them all out of there that he was willing to let a Griever attack him. He needed his memories that much. Teresa knew that WICKED wouldn't let the Grievers kill him and he probably knew that, too. All the same, the sick feeling remained.
Oh, Tom, she thought sadly. Tom, sometimes you can be so brave and other times so stupid! I'm not sure which this time is...
Nighttime was creeping round incredibly slowly, dragging its heels and forcing her to wait for what now seemed inevitable. She'd never be able to talk her friend out of this one and if she did, he'd know she'd figured it out and would try to hide it.
Trying to shield her presence from Thomas as much as she possibly could, Teresa gently probed his mind. She worried he wouldn't want to keep up their telepathic link if she crossed boundaries, but she had to know. The link they shared across minds was essential for the Trials, but surely this wasn't too bad. Surely Thomas would still keep communications up even if he discovered her, right?
Delicately unthreading all his subconscious thoughts from the last two days, Teresa finally found what she wanted and started unraveling it. Invisible fingers with a feather-light touch were incredibly careful to avoid the chip in Thomas' head that blocked his memories. She reached over to the small device that monitored thought processes and controlled their telepathy. That wasn't all it did, of course, but, right now, that was as much as she needed from it. A quick glance confirmed her suspicions and she eased her way back out of her friend's mind. Thomas never even knew she'd been there.
Is there a way I can talk him out of it? Teresa wondered.
The answer: no.
She knew deep down this was the only way. She understood that it had to be done to complete the Maze Trials, otherwise Group A would never find a way out. She (reluctantly) accepted that it had to happen and no one could stop Thomas from doing this.
If it's the only way to complete Phase One, the so be it!
She finally let go of her worries. WICKED wouldn't let Thomas die, he knew what he was doing (sort of... not really), Griever stings weren't fatal unless you were non-immune or didn't receive the antidote, it was for the good of the entire planet. She kept reminding herself of these facts and by the time the evening came upon the Glade, Teresa felt much better about everything and was totally ready for what was to come next. But were the others?
The Grievers had barely retreated out of the wreck they'd created in the Homestead when Thomas was bolting after them. All the boys in the room reached out to stop him, but he was too quick. Again!
The memories of just a couple days prior assaulted Newt as he came to his feet and took off after his friend.
Why does this keep happening?! he thought as he tore open the splintered, old wooden door, just in time to see Thomas throw himself on top of the Grievers.
"TOMMY!!!" he screamed, watching in mounting horror and revulsion as the beasts tore their metal appendages into Thomas' body and dug in their needles.
Newt ran forward, now joined by several others, and wrestled Thomas from the clutches of the Grievers. Willing hands reached forward to lift him from the ground and they all hauled the limp body back into the Homestead, setting him down not-so-gently onto the floor. Thomas whined in pain, seemingly unaware he was doing so. He tried to curl into himself, but it was all obviously too much for his muscles to handle and he flopped back onto the hard wood.
Clint and Jeff were instantly on him and checking for any fatal injuries. Jeff started using some rather colourful words and Newt felt the blood drain from his face as he saw the true extent of the damage.
"He's been stung multiple times!" Clint exclaimed in alarm. Thomas' eyes were flickering open and closed and he didn't seem aware of his surroundings.
By now, everyone else scattered throughout the other rooms had heard the commotion and come to see what had happened. Numerous gasps permeated the air and they all started to crowd around Thomas.
"Get the Grief Serum!" Minho yelled as he ran towards his friend.
"Get the medical supplies from upstairs!" Clint ordered Jeff.
Thomas blearily opened his eyes, not really focusing on one person, and croaked, "Don't worry," his words slurred as his facial muscles became slack and immovable, "I did it on purpose." Then his eyes closed and he lost consciousness.
He was taken off to the room reserved in the Homestead for medical purposes, but Newt didn't help carry him - all he could do was just stand there in shock. He'd done that on purpose!? Was he insane!? He could've gotten killed! Maybe it had just been the Griever sting talking; Thomas clearly hadn't been all too coherent just then. But something told Newt that his friend was telling the truth and he'd intentionally gotten stung.
"He needed his memories. This was the only way to get them." He turned at the voice to see a worried-looking Teresa staring off at the door Thomas had been taken through.
Minho overheard the last part of that statement and came up to them. He looked quite angry. "You mean you knew he was going to do this and you let him?!" he demanded. "You didn't think to tell any of us so we could stop him!"
She shrugged, suddenly looking calm and unbothered, and repeated once more, "This was the only way."
"Is Thomas going to be alright?" Chuck hesitantly approached the group and they all forced on smiles for the younger boy.
"Of course he will be!" Teresa enthused.
"No thanks to you!" Minho snapped and Newt found himself agreeing.
"You guys don't understand just yet," she said and walked off. Chuck looked up at the two older boys and asked about what had just gone on between them. They told him it was nothing to worry about and then sent him off to fetch some water for Thomas.
"She's up to something," Newt quietly noted to his friend, glad when Minho nodded.
"Needs an eye keeping on her."
The screams were getting worse.
Nobody knew what to do. They'd never experienced anything like this. Yes, people had been stung before, but they'd never been incapacitated for as long as this. A day or so was the longest anyone had been unconscious after receiving the Grief Serum, but Thomas had been in that medical room for three days.
The Med-jacks said that was only because of the amount of stings he'd received, as well as the additional injuries the Grievers had given him. Clint and Jeff had done an incredible job treating those wounds while Thomas thrashed and screamed. They hadn't been able to fully treat everything, but they had done a great job as far as they were able to. Surprisingly, the Creators hadn't come to collect Thomas like before. Newt wasn't sure if that should worry or reassure him.
"Three days," Minho muttered to him as they approached Thomas' room and entered quietly.
"There's nothing we can do about it," Newt replied.
"It's kinda worrying, though."
"He was stung dozens of times."
"They coulda killed 'im."
"Creators wouldn't've allowed it."
"That's what I mean! Why's he so special to 'em? And why'd they send him up if he's that important?"
"I don't know and we probably never will! Right now, Minho, we gotta focus attentions on Tommy!"
They both looked over to him. Thomas had never looked so pale. Sweat poured freely from his face, making him look like he'd just been dunked in a bucket of water. Green, disgusting, bulging veins stuck out from the side of his neck and crisscrossed their way all over his upper body. His face was scrunched up tightly in pain and Clint held his legs down as Jeff administered a lotion to his calves and thighs that had been made from the plants grown outside. The appendages were covered in abrasions: bruises, scars, dried blood covering healing cuts, holes from where the needles had dug in, and vile blood vessels that looked like they were trying to burst from the skin containing them.
"Shuck!" Minho murmured. "He looks like klunk!"
"Not helping!"
Newt and Minho turned to the voice in surprise, not having noticed Teresa when they came in. She sat by Thomas' side in a seat at the head of the bed holding his hand. Minho tried to calm himself at seeing her getting so touchy with his friend. He still didn't trust her and he didn't feel like she should be allowed anywhere near Thomas. He still held onto the idea that this was all her fault and she knew more than what she let on. He wasn't the only one.
"What are you doing here?" Newt glared at her and Teresa glared right back.
"Making sure my friend's okay!"
"So, he's your 'friend' now!" Minho snapped, putting quotation marks with his fingers around the word 'friend'. "I didn't realise friends let each other get attacked by Grievers!"
"He knew what he was doing! You couldn't have stopped him if you tried! He needs these memories and that's why he did it! We need a way out of here!"
"Both of you slim it!" Newt yelled, taking a deep breath before he continued. "We can't change what's already happened, but this sort of arguing ain't helping nothing!"
They both reluctantly nodded and Teresa turned to lay a wet cloth across Thomas' forehead to avoid making eye contact. Her friend grunted in discomfort and she wondered what he was seeing.
A girl about his age with dirty-blonde hair.
They're sat around a table with a bunch of adults in white lab coats.
Teresa is there, too, sat next to him.
From everywhere and nowhere, the words come to him: "Whatever it takes!"
He turns his head and sees a door on the far side of the room. He walks toward it and suddenly he's in a brightly-lit medical room. There's a curtain pulled across one half of it and he pulls it back to see a boy of about nine laying in a bed. There's something familiar about this child and he spots a medical chart on the edge of the bed, the name on the top of the sheet telling him they've already met. His name is Newt.
He drops the clipboard in surprise and backs up a bit, tripping over something and falling backwards. He lands in a big chair and discovers he's covered in all sorts of wires and electrodes and sensors. There's a man in front of him who looks really angry over something.
"What is your name?" he asks.
A young child's voice answers: "That's easy. Stephen."
Screams fill the room and he runs out. He finds himself in a humongous cavern. There's a woman next to him.
From somewhere in his mind he hears, "We want you to help us build it."
A much younger version of Teresa is by his side and words are being exchanged that he can't really hear.
The cavern transforms into a dark tunnel and there are four small children in front of him. They seem scared of something and he glances behind him to see bars lining the walls of the tunnel. Dark silhouettes of human figures dance around behind the bars. A faint echoing through his brain signals screaming, laughter, crying, shouting.
Get me out of here! he thinks desperately.
Teresa sat outside, waiting for Thomas. She felt kind of annoyed that she wasn't allowed to attend the Gathering. She prodded at Thomas' mind to get a feel for what was being said, knew this was exactly the same thing he would tell her when he got out, and felt a little better knowing that he wouldn't withhold anything from her. On the other hand, his brief glimpse of memories had left him with completely the wrong idea of WICKED. He thought they'd been forced to build the Maze and that they'd had terrible upbringings. She couldn't even correct that line of thinking or he would know she still had her memories. She would just have to wait for Phase Three of the Trials.
All she knew about that stage was that everyone had their own individual Trial mapped out and that WICKED was in the middle of deciding whether or not memories should be returned after that. A pit of sadness opened up within her as she thought about how WICKED wouldn't need Thomas after all this was done. They'd probably... dispose of him after Phase Three was completed. Teresa decided she could change that - they'd listen to her. She could come up with some convincing reason to keep her friend alive; the Psychs would practically drink it up and how could the Chancellor say no to that, then?
Thomas appeared at that moment and sat down next to her on the bench, a you're-not-going-to-like-this look across his face. His very demeanour screamed 'I have some bad news for you!'. She already knew what he wanted to say. And she knew the truth! She wouldn't let this affect her! Still, she listened like she was hearing it for the first time and acted the way he expected her to. She was a good actor and felt no shame in what she did. However, the look of fear that must have surely come across her face was real when she heard how they were going to get out. She'd always known, but it didn't make the idea any less disturbing. The only comfort she took from it all was that she and Thomas would be safe from the Grievers.
The Grievers suddenly stopped moving. They seemed to collapse and shrink into themselves. Their claws, metal arms, needles, and weapons all retracted back into their slimy bodies. The slime seemed to almost melt until they were little more than dark puddles on the ground.
Newt stepped back, heaving for breath. He saw that Minho was still there beside him and felt uncontrollably relieved: he still had his best friend with him. He didn't know how he would cope if he had lost Alby and Minho in the same night. That bloody, selfish shank, sacrificing himself for no good reason! he thought, surprised at the small stab of anger he felt when he thought back to just twenty minutes prior to Alby's death. But then another thought occurred.
They've done it!
Newt made his way over to the Griever Hole with the other Gladers, readying to jump. Thomas, Teresa and Chuck must have succeeded in their mission, they had to still be alive!
Quickly, Newt took a count over everyone who'd survived the battle with the Grievers; they'd lost over half their numbers. He tried not to look back at all the corpses surrounding them, tried not to gag at the smell of blood suffocating the air.
They were almost out! This was all almost over!
Newt took a couple of steps back, then ran and jumped. He fell through the Griever Hole and landed in a dark room. To freedom, he thought.
Don't make me do this! Please, don't make me do this!
Gally tried to scream, but his body was just not doing as commanded. They were controlling him. He felt his arm draw back with the knife in his hand.
No, no, no! Please!
He tried to show the remaining Gladers that it wasn't him doing this. He tried to twist his face into a frightened expression to show them that he was being controlled, but he felt invisible hands tugging his muscles into a calm, relaxed stance.
Next to Thomas, he saw Chuck starting to twitch just so slightly, and he instantly knew what was happening. No! Please, no! He's just a kid!
The knife left his hand and flew through the air and Chuck started to move. Gally watched, as if through someone else's eyes, as the blade rammed home. He still couldn't move, but he could close his eyes now, so he did, right as the screams started up. Thomas was screaming and crying and Gally knew that Chuck must be dead. He opened his eyes in time to see Thomas charging towards him, felt himself be tackled to the floor, and realised he still couldn't move even when he was being beaten.
Newt and Minho dragged Thomas off of him and Gally just lay there, stunned, with blood trickling down his face. A single tear rolled its way out of the corner of his eye and trekked down his right cheek.
There was sudden commotion all around him and gunshots going off. He still couldn't move to understand what was going on and tried to scream at someone to help. The ones who had survived the Maze ran past him and he could hear some sort of vehicle outside starting up.
Chancellor Ava Paige smiled grimly. There had been promising results from the Maze Trials and soon she would hand over the data to the Psychs for analysis and comparison against Group B. In the mean time, she would start on a memorandum to send out to all those who worked in the WICKED facility about Phase One and the approaching Phase Two. There was work to be done and busy days ahead. The Scorch Trials would bring all sorts of Variables and responses, results that could not be achieved in the Maze.
