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, the 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.
She paused before answering, maybe afraid to ask the questions that eventually came to him. Does any of it help us? Do you remember much of it?
Most of it. But there wasn't enough there to really mean a whole lot.
What did you see?
Thomas told her about each little segment of memory―or dream―he'd seen over the last couple of weeks. About seeing his mom, about overhearing conversations about surgery, about him and her spying on members of WICKED, hearing things that didn't make a whole lot of sense. About them testing and practicing their telepathy. And, finally, about saying goodbye right before he went to the Glade.
So Aris was there? she asked, but before he could answer, she continued. Of course, I already knew that. That the three of us were all part of this. But weird about everyone dying, the replacements, all that. What do you think it means?
I don't know, he answered. But I feel like if we had the time to just sit and talk about it we could help each other bring it all back.
Me too. Tom, I'm really sorry. I can tell you're having a hard time forgiving me.
Would you be any different?
No. I kind of accepted it, in a way. That saving you was worth losing what we might've had.
Thomas had no clue how to respond to that.
Not that they could've talked much more even if he wanted to. With the wind howling and the dust and debris flying through the air and the clouds churning and blackening and the distance to the others getting shorter ...
There just wasn't time.
And so they kept running.
The two groups ahead of them eventually met up in the distance. More interesting to Thomas, though, was that it didn't appear to be an accident at all. The girls of Group B had reached a point and stopped; then Minho―Thomas could make him out now and was relieved to see him alive and well―and the Gladers had changed direction to go east to meet them.
And now, just a half-mile away, they all stood around something Thomas couldn't see, packing in a tight circle to look at whatever it was.
What's going on up there? Teresa asked Thomas in his mind.
Don't know, he answered.
The two of them, along with Aris, picked up the pace.
It only took another few minutes across the dusty wind-whipped plain before they reached Groups A and B.
Minho had stepped away from the larger pack of people and stood facing them when they finally made it. His arms were folded, his clothes filthy, his hair greasy, his face still showing signs of his burns. But somehow he was smiling. Thomas couldn't believe how good it felt to see that smirky grin again.
"It's about time you slowpokes caught up with us!" Minho yelled at them.
Thomas stopped right in front of him and doubled over to catch his breath for a few seconds, then straightened. "I thought you'd be fightin' tooth and nail with these girls after what they did to us. To me, anyway."
Minho looked back at the now-mingling group of boys and girls, then returned his gaze to Thomas. "Well, first of all, they have nastier weapons, not to mention bows and arrows. Plus, some chick named Harriet explained everything. We're the ones who should be surprised―that you're still with them." He gave a nasty glare to Teresa, then Aris. "Never trusted either one of those shuck traitors."
Thomas tried to hide his mixed emotions. "They're on our side. Trust me." And in a twisted, backward way he really was starting to believe it. As sick as it made him feel.
Minho laughed bitterly. "Figured you'd say something like that. Let me guess, it's a long story?"
"Yeah, very long story," Thomas answered, then changed the subject. "Why'd you all stop here? What's everybody looking at?"
Minho stepped to the side, sweeping his arm behind him. "Have a peeky-peek yourself." Then he yelled to the two groups, "You guys make a path!"
Several Gladers and girls looked back, then slowly shuffled to the side until a narrow break in the crowd formed. Thomas immediately saw that the object that held everyone's attention was a simple stick poking out of the arid ground. An orange strip of ribbon hung from the top, whipping in the wind. Letters were printed on the thin banner.
Thomas and Teresa exchanged a look; then Thomas pushed ahead for a closer inspection. Even before he got there, he could read the words printed on the ribbon, black on orange.
THE SAFE HAVEN
CHAPTER 57
Despite the wind and the hubbub of people, the world quieted around Thomas for a minute, as if his ears had been stuffed with cotton. He fell to his knees and numbly reached out to touch the flapping orange ribbon. This was the safe haven? Not a building, a shelter, something?
Then, as quickly as it had disappeared, sound rushed back in, snapping him back to reality. Mostly the rush of wind and the chatter of conversation.
He turned back to Teresa and Minho, who stood side by side, Aris behind them peeking over their shoulders.
Thomas glanced at his watch. "We have over an hour left. Our safe haven is a stick in the ground?" Confusion muddled his mind―he wasn't quite sure what to think or say.
"Wasn't so bad, when you think about it," Minho said. "More than half of us made it here. Looks like even more of the girlie group."
Thomas stood up, trying to control his anger. "The Flare turn you crazy already? Yeah, we got here. Safe and sound. To a stick."
Minho scoffed at him. "Dude, they wouldn't send us here for no reason. We made it in the time they gave us. Now we just wait until the clock ticks down and something'll happen."
"That's what worries me," Thomas said.
"Hate to say it," Teresa added, "but I agree with Thomas. After everything they've done to us, it'd be way too easy to have a little sign here, and then they come get us in a nice helicopter as a reward. Something bad's gonna happen."
"Whatever you say, traitor," Minho said, his face hiding none of the hatred he felt for Teresa. "I don't want to hear another word from you." He walked away, angrier than Thomas had ever seen him.
Thomas looked at Teresa, who was visibly taken aback. "You shouldn't be surprised."
She just shrugged. "I'm sick of apologizing. I did what I had to do."
Thomas couldn't believe she was serious. "Whatever. I need to find Newt. I want―"
Before he could finish, Brenda appeared out of the crowd, glancing back and forth between him and Teresa. The wind tore through her long hair, whipping it frenziedly so that she kept pushing it behind her ears only to have it fly out again.
"Brenda," he said. For some reason he felt guilty.
"Hey there," Brenda said, walking up to stand right in front of him and Teresa. "This the girl you were tellin' me about? When you and I were snuggling in that truck?"
"Yeah." The word popped out of Thomas's mouth before he could stop it. "No. I mean ... yeah."
Teresa held her hand out to Brenda, who shook it. "I'm Teresa."
"Nice to meet you," Brenda replied. "I'm a Crank. I'm slowly going crazy. I keep wanting to chew off my own fingers and randomly kill people. Thomas here promised to save me." Though she was obviously joking, she didn't even crack a smile.
Thomas had to hide a wince. "Funny, Brenda."
"Glad to see you still have a sense of humor about it," Teresa said. But her face could've turned water to ice.
Thomas looked down at his watch. Fifty-five minutes left. "I, um, need to talk to Newt." He turned and quickly walked away before either girl could say anything. He wanted to be as far away from both of them as possible.
