Chapter 22.
"How'd you know my name, kid?" Vince asked, peering at Thomas suspiciously.
"Um…" was Thomas' response. In his moment of surprise, he had forgotten that he hadn't met the real Vince. After the simulation was over he had just assumed that Vince and the right arm had been made up. It didn't make any sense for WICKED to introduce the already rebellious gladers to a group of people that was basically the anti-WICKED.
But here he was, and he had to come up with a believable reason for knowing Vince's name because he didn't think 'I met you before in Denver, except it wasn't actually Denver because it was in a simulation' sounded believable. Besides, he didn't know the man's intentions, so it would be best to play it safe for the time being.
"A friend of mine told me about you," Thomas said finally. It wasn't a lie. After all, Gally had told him and his friends about the right arm and Vince before they met him. (Thomas wasn't really sure whether or not Gally counted as a friend. They had started off as enemies, but once Gally had stopped acting like a jerk they had started getting along. Maybe they weren't friends yet, but perhaps sometime in the future that would change.)
"Oh really," Vince said, looking, if possible, even more suspicious, "what friend? One of the kids you were with when we found you?"
"He wasn't in our group," Thomas said, still not technically lying. Gally was in their group at the moment, but he hadn't been with them for a while after the maze, which was what he referred to.
"How convenient for you," Vince noted. Thomas said nothing.
"Well, it appears you already know some things. I'd like to hear what else you know," Vince said.
Thomas remained silent for as long as he dared, deciding what he should say.
"You are with the right arm, correct?" Thomas said, but before he could get an answer he continued speaking.
"You found out that we were out in the forest somehow. You either want us to join forces with you or keep us as prisoners to force WICKED to pay ransom to get us back."
"So you admit that you are working with WICKED?" Vince asked, looking rather triumphant.
"I assumed you already knew that, and even if you didn't, you would probably figure it out sooner or later"
Vince looked less triumphant.
"It's as you say," Vince said, changing the topic, "I'm part of the right arm. We recently gained two colleagues that used to work for WICKED and informed us about your location, which was thankfully close to one of our bases. As for what you said about what we want with you, you were almost right. You see, we need you for a plan of ours, but we won't let you join our ranks just yet."
Two new colleagues that used to work for WICKED. He had to be talking about Brenda and Jorge. Thomas hadn't seen Jorge, but wherever Brenda was, he was always there too.
Thomas wondered why they had defected from WICKED. He would hopefully be able to speak with Brenda later so he could hear what she had to say.
"What is this 'plan' you need us for?" Thomas asked.
"As I'm sure you're aware, WICKED has a very large budget for their little experiments,"
"Money. That's what you're after?"
"No, not money, money has little value in the world nowadays. What we're interested in is equipment, the kind of equipment WICKED has. When the flare started WICKED was given the task of curing it. The remaining governments made sure money wouldn't be an issue, that way the people at WICKED were able to get state-of-the-art lab equipment. Unfortunately, they were the only ones. But they have long since proven that they won't create the cure we need."
"Wait, are you saying that you intend to find the cure instead?" Thomas asked in surprise.
"Exactly, unlike WICKED, we have the right priorities and the right methods, what we need is the equipment."
"What do you mean by 'right priorities'?" Thomas asked. They both wanted the cure, right? So why would they have different priorities? Different methods he could understand (though it sounded slightly worrying), but different priorities?
"I won't give you the details since I don't know them myself. Just know that working with WICKED won't get you what you want."
"Fine, then can you at least tell me what other 'methods' you were referring to?
"Maybe I will later on if you cooperate with us," Vince said, giving Thomas an almost pitying look. That, along with the way he said it, made it clear that he was not going to tell Thomas anything. That made Thomas feel even more worried, but he doubted he would be getting an answer if he kept asking for it, so he decided to focus on it later.
"You told me what your goal is, but I want to know what my friends and I have to do with you achieving it," Thomas said.
"My informants told me that you and your friends were headed for one of WICKED's facilities, is that true?"
Thomas nodded quickly, eager to hear what Vince had to say.
"We have made plans to take the building over for a long time. It holds all the equipment we need, and it's supposedly not well guarded on the inside. Getting inside is the only issue. The only way to get there is if someone on the inside lets you in."
"So you want us to go there and let you in?" Thomas guessed.
"Very good," Vince said.
"And why would we do that?" Thomas asked. He didn't like WICKED, but it seemed like a better option than the right arm. He didn't want to interrupt WICKED's (possibly) almost completed research. If WICKED hadn't created a cure after all this time with unlimited resources, how could the right arm manage to do it? They didn't exactly resemble scientists.
"Because if you don't," Vince began, with a rather nasty look on his face, "I will kill your friends."
"No you won't," Thomas said calmly, remembering what Brenda had said earlier, "I heard one of your colleagues say that you need us alive."
"Well, it's true that we need you alive. The ones who are immune, that is."
"We're all immune," Thomas lied.
"Is that so?" Vince asked. He knew that Thomas was lying, he could see it on his face.
"If all of you are immune, then why did my co-workers discover that two of your friends had VC32L13-pills in their packs?"
Thomas was confused at first, before realizing that VC3-whatever-it-was must be the name of the pills used to slow the spread of the flare, the ones that Newt had been given earlier. The second person must be that girl in group B that also had the flare.
"they are mentally unstable, they need those pills to stay calm," Thomas said.
"So they are close to the gone, then?" Vince asked. Thomas should probably have worded his excuse differently.
"What? No. They're not cranks!" He insisted, though he knew there was no point in persisting.
"If you don't do what I tell you to do I will kill them," Vince said, ignoring Thomas' protests.
Thomas didn't doubt that he meant it. After all, Vince wouldn't have much use of two non-immunes that would soon succumb to the flare, and there were two of them, so he wouldn't have to worry about not having anything to threaten Thomas with if he killed one of them.
"Fine, I'll help you," Thomas said.
"Good, you'll leave tomorrow with… let me think… four of your friends and ten of mine."
"Wait, four of them?" Thomas asked in surprise. He had thought all of them would be going, though he realized how stupid he'd been to think that. If all of them had gone together they might have been able to overpower their captors or warn the people in the WICKED-facility once they were all safely inside. But only four of them didn't make sense either. Unless, of course, Brenda and Jorge had told them WICKED's plans, and they had planned to have all except the five of them die. Would they do that? The rat man had said they wouldn't, but he wasn't exactly trustworthy. But why would they do that? Then they would only have five test subjects left, that seemed risky. Thomas wondered if they really were as close to finding a cure as they said or if they were just getting desperate.
"Yes, four of them," Vince said "and you get to pick one of them. You see, I want to make sure you understand that I'm serious about the consequences of not obeying my orders. You will take one of the cranks with you, in case you try something funny, so you can see for yourself that I'm not fooling around. So which one is it? Boy-crank or girl-crank?"
"N-" Thomas began to say, but he interrupted himself with a faked coughing fit. Vince would expect him to pick the one that meant the most to him and Thomas didn't want him to know that. He kept coughing for as long as he dared to give himself time to think.
"I pick Naomi," Thomas said finally. He doubted that was her actual name, but it was the first girl-name he could think of.
"It looks like she's staying then," Vince said, looking rather pleased with himself for having tricked Thomas, blissfully unaware that he was the one being tricked.
"What? But you said-" Thomas pretended to complain.
"And here I thought you were smart, kid," Vince said, then his smug smile turned into a frown. Thomas tensed, had Vince seen through his truck.
"Tell me, what's the boy's name?"
"Isaac," Thomas lied. If he said his friend's real name Vince would know that that's what he'd been about to say. The made-up name was from Newt's namesake, only it was the first name rather than the surname. Maybe not the best option, but it was the best that Thomas could come up within two seconds. Besides, he doubted Vince knew about the way they were named.
"As I said, the girl stays, the boy goes," Vince said, now convinced.
"Fine, is there anything else you need to tell me?" Thomas asked, trying his best to sound grumpy (which wasn't very difficult in his current situation).
"No, there's nothing else you need to know," Vince said. He pointed at the door, which Thomas took as a sign to get out. Where he was supposed to go was unclear to him, but he got up reluctantly and walked towards the exit. He grabbed the door handle pushed at the door, which was even heavier than it looked.
When he had finally managed to get it open he saw that Brenda was standing on the other side of it, arms crossed and tapping her foot against the floor in an almost comical way.
"Come on, let's go," she said.
Thomas exited the doorway and let the door slam shut as he let go of it.
"Brenda, how did you get here?" He whispered, as he didn't know if the room was bugged as well as monitored.
"How do you know my name?" She asked in an equally silent, though shocked tone.
"What do you mean? Don't you remember me?" Thomas asked.
Brenda frowned.
"I haven't met you before today."
"But you knew I was the leader of the group," Thomas argued.
"I've heard about you, but I haven't met you before," Brenda insisted.
"But-"
"Let's go." Brenda grabbed Thomas by the arm and led him down the corridor at a brisk pace.
Was she lying? It was possible. Maybe WICKED had sent her there to spy, or maybe they had planned for the right arm to catch them and sent Brenda to make sure nothing went wrong. In that case, it would be best not to reveal that he knew her.
So he let her pull him down the hallway, stopped walking when she did, and then waited obediently as she tapped in a code on a small screen next to the door handle.
A small click signaled that the door had been unlocked and Brenda opened it.
Thomas entered before she could tell him to. He turned towards her, maybe to say goodbye, maybe to see if her face showed any signs of knowing him. Before he could do either the door closed, hitting him in the nose as it did.
He yelped and took a step back, yelping once more as he stepped on something. He spun around and saw Teresa standing there. He must have stepped on her foot.
"Sorry," he muttered. He brought his hand up to his nose to feel for any damage. It hurt, but there was at least no blood.
Thomas inspected the rest of the room. Everyone was there, sitting or standing in the empty room. Speaking of the room, it looked like a dungeon, built completely out of cement with no windows and a weakly glowing light bulb in the ceiling was the only source of light.
Teresa crossed her arms and looked at Thomas demandingly.
"well, what's going on?"