The Scorch Trials - James Dashner [20]
Minho was the first to break the silence. “I think we’ve all gone psycho like those … what’d they call themselves again? Cranks. The Cranks at the windows. We’re all sitting here waiting for a lecture from Rat Man like this is totally normal. Like we’re at some kind of school. I can tell you this much—if he had anything good to say, he wouldn’t need a freaking magic wall to protect him from us, now, would he?”
“Just slim it and listen,” Newt said. “Maybe it’s all gonna be over.”
“Yeah, right,” Minho said. “And Frypan’s gonna start having little babies, Winston’ll get rid of his monster acne, and Thomas here’ll actually smile for once.”
Thomas turned to Minho and exaggerated a fake smile. “There, you happy?”
“Dude,” he responded. “You are one ugly shank.”
“If you say so.”
“Shut your bloody holes,” Newt whispered. “I think it’s time.”
Thomas looked over to see that the stranger—Rat Man, as Minho so kindly called him—had put his feet on the floor and placed the book on the desk. He scooted his chair back to get a better view of one of the drawers, then pulled it out and rummaged through things Thomas couldn’t see. Finally, he pulled out a densely packed manila folder full of messy papers, many of them bent and sticking out at odd angles.
“Ah, here it is,” Rat Man said in his nasally voice; then he placed the folder on the desk, opened it up and looked at the boys in front of him. “Thank you for gathering in an orderly manner so I can tell you what I’ve been … instructed to tell you. Please listen carefully.”
“Why do you need that wall!” Minho shouted.
Newt reached around Thomas and punched Minho in the arm. “Shut it!”
Rat Man continued as if he hadn’t heard the outburst. “You’re all still here because of an uncanny will to survive despite the odds, among … other reasons. About sixty people were sent to live in the Glade. Well, your Glade, anyway. Another sixty in Group B, but for now we’ll forget them.”
The man’s eyes flickered to Aris, then went back to slowly scanning the crowd. Thomas didn’t know if anyone else had noticed, but he had no doubt that there’d been a hint of familiarity in that quick look. What did it mean …?
“Out of all those people, only a fraction survived to be here today. I’m assuming you’ve figured this out by now, but many of the things that happen to you are solely for the purpose of judging and analyzing your responses. And yet it’s not really an experiment as much as it is … constructing a blueprint. Stimulating the killzone and collecting the resultant patterns. Putting them all together to achieve the greatest breakthrough in the history of science and medicine.
“These situations inflicted upon you are called the Variables, and each one has been meticulously thought out. I’ll explain more soon. And though I can’t tell you everything at this time, it’s vital that you know this much: these trials you’re going through are for a very important cause. Continue to respond well to the Variables, continue to survive, and you’ll be rewarded with the knowledge that you’ve played a part in saving the human race. And yourselves, of course.”
Rat Man paused, apparently for effect. Thomas looked over at Minho and raised his eyebrows.
“This dude’s shucked in the head,” Minho whispered. “How would escaping a freaking maze save the human race?”
“I represent a group called WICKED,” Rat Man continued. “I know it sounds menacing, but it stands for World In Catastrophe, Killzone Experiment Department. Nothing menacing about it, despite what you may think. We exist for