The Scorch Trials - James Dashner [101]
“We’ll get over it.” She stuck her tongue out at him—actually stuck her tongue out!—then put her head down and closed her eyes.
Sonya sat cross-legged, looking about as far from sleep as humanly possible. “We don’t have a choice. WICKED said that was our only task. If we don’t do it, they won’t let us in at the safe haven. We’ll die out here in the Scorch.”
Thomas shrugged. “Hey, I understand. Sacrifice me to save yourselves. Very noble.”
She stared at him for a long time; he had to fight not to drop his gaze. She finally looked away and lay down with her back to him.
Teresa walked over, her face twisted in annoyance. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” mumbled Harriet. “Tell him to shut up.”
“Shut up,” Teresa said.
Thomas huffed a sarcastic laugh. “What’re you gonna do, kill me if I don’t?”
She didn’t say anything, just kept looking at him, her face blank.
“Why do you hate me all of a sudden?” he asked. “What did I do to you?”
Sonya and Harriet both had turned to listen, looking back and forth between Thomas and Teresa.
“You know what you did,” Teresa finally said. “So does everyone here—I told them all about it. But even still, I wouldn’t have sunk to your level and tried to kill you. We’re only doing that because we have no choice. Sorry. Life’s tough.”
Did something just flash in her eyes? Thomas wondered. What was she trying to tell him? “What are you talking about, sink to my level? I’d never kill a friend to save my own butt. Never.”
“Me neither. Which is why I’m glad we’re not friends.” She started to turn away.
“So what’d I do to you?” Thomas asked quickly. “Sorry, I’m kind of havin’ a memory lapse—ya know, we have those a lot around here. Remind me.”
She twisted back around and glared at him with fiery eyes. “Don’t insult me. Don’t you dare sit there and act like nothing happened. Now shut up or I’ll give you another bruise on that pretty face of yours.”
She stomped away, and Thomas kept silent. He shifted until he was somewhat comfortable, his head leaning back on the dead wood of the tree. Everything about his current situation stank, but he was determined to figure it out and survive.
Eventually he slept.
CHAPTER 47
Thomas slept fitfully for a few hours, tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard rock. He finally fell into a deep slumber, and then came the dream.
Thomas is fifteen. He doesn’t know how he knows this. Something to do with the timing of the memory. Is it a memory?
He and Teresa are standing in front of a massive bank of screens, each one showing various images from the Glade and the Maze. Some of the views are moving, and he knows why. These camera shots are coming from beetle blades, and every once in a while they have to change position. When they do, it’s like looking through the eyes of a rat.
“I can’t believe they’re all dead,” Teresa says.
Thomas is confused. Once again he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening. He’s inside this boy who’s supposed to be him, but he doesn’t know what Teresa’s talking about. Obviously not the Gladers—on one screen he can see Minho and Newt walking toward the forest; on another, Gally sitting on a bench. Then Alby yelling at someone Thomas doesn’t recognize.
“We knew it would happen,” he finally responds, not sure why he said it.
“It’s still hard to take.” They aren’t looking at each other, just analyzing the screens. “Now it’s up to us. And the people in the barracks.”
“That’s a good thing,” Thomas says.
“I almost feel as sorry for them as I do for the Gladers. Almost.”
Thomas wonders what this means as his younger dream version clears his throat. “Do you think we’ve learned enough? Do you really think we can pull this off with all the original Creators dead?”
“We have to, Tom.” Teresa steps over to him and grabs his hand. He looks down at her but he can’t read her expression. “Everything’s in place. We have a year to train the replacements and get ready.”
“But it’s not right. How can we ask them to—”
Teresa rolls her eyes and squeezes his hand so hard it hurts. “They know