The Scorch Trials - James Dashner [118]
“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.
Newt was sitting on the ground with Frypan and Minho, all three looking as if they were waiting for the end of the world.
The tearing wind had gained a moisture to it, and the billowing, churning clouds above them had lowered considerably, like a dark fog dropping to swallow the earth. Glimpses of light flashed here and there in the sky, burning patches of purple and orange in the grayness. Thomas hadn’t seen an actual lightning bolt yet, but he knew they were coming. The first big storm had begun just like this.
“Hey, Tommy,” Newt said when Thomas joined them. He sat down next to his friend and wrapped his arms around his knees. Two simple words with nothing behind them. It was as if Thomas had just gone for a leisurely walk instead of being kidnapped and almost killed.
“Glad to see you guys made it here,” Thomas said.
Frypan snorted his usual animal-like bark of a laugh. “Same back at ya. Looks like you had more fun, though. Hangin’ with your love goddess. Guess you two kissed and made up?”
“Not exactly,” Thomas said. “It wasn’t fun.”
“Well, what happened?” Minho asked. “How can you trust her after all that?”
Thomas hesitated at first, but he knew he had to tell them everything. And there was no better time than the present. He sucked in a deep breath and started talking. He told them about WICKED’s plan for him, the camp, his talk with Group B, the gas chamber. Still none of it made sense, but he felt a little better telling his friends.
“And you forgave that witch?” Minho asked when Thomas finally finished. “I won’t. Whatever those shuck WICKED people wanna do, fine by me. Whatever you wanna do, fine by me. But I don’t trust her, I don’t trust Aris, and I don’t like either one of them.”
Newt seemed to consider it more deeply. “They went through all that—all that planning and acting—just to make you feel betrayed? Doesn’t make any bloody sense.”
“Tell me about it,” Thomas muttered. “And no, I haven’t forgiven her. But for now I think we’re in the same boat.” He looked around—most people were sitting down, staring off into the distance. Not much conversation, and not a whole lot of mingling between the two groups. “What about you guys? How’d you make it here?”
“Found a gap through the mountains,” Minho answered. “Had to fight through some Cranks camping in a cave, but other than that, no problems.