The Scorch Trials - James Dashner [80]
“Okay,” Thomas said quickly. “We’ll go. Let’s do it.”
Brenda snapped her head around. “What?”
“He has a gun. He has a knife. She’s got a shuck screwdriver! I’m not in the mood to have an eyeball smashed into my skull.”
“Looks like your boyfriend’s not stupid,” Blondie said. “Now let’s go have some fun.” He pointed his pistol at the stairs and smiled. “Feel free to lead the way.”
Brenda was clearly angry, but her eyes also revealed that she knew they had no other choice. “Fine.”
Blondie smiled again; the expression would’ve looked natural on a snake. “That’s the spirit. Fine and dandy, nothing to worry about.”
“No one’s gonna hurt you,” Tall and Ugly added. “Unless you get difficult. Unless you act like brats. By the end of the party, you’ll wanna join our group. Trust me on that.”
Thomas had to fight to keep the panic from pounding through him. “Let’s just go,” he said to Blondie.
“Waiting on you.” The man pointed at the stairs with his gun again.
Thomas reached out and grabbed Brenda’s hand, pulled her close to him. “Let’s go to the party, sweetheart.” He put as much sarcasm into it as he could. “This’ll be so much fun!”
“That’s very nice,” Ponytail said. “I get weepy when I see two people in love.” She feigned wiping tears from her cheeks.
With Brenda by his side, Thomas turned toward the stairs, aware the whole time of the gun pointed at his back. They made their way down the steps to the old slab of a door, the space just wide enough for them to go side by side. When they reached the bottom, Thomas didn’t see a handle. Raising his eyebrows, he looked back at Blondie, who stood two steps behind them.
“Gotta do the special knock,” the man said. “Three slow fist thumps, three fast ones, then two knuckle taps.”
Thomas hated these people. He hated the way they spoke so calmly and said mostly nice words, all of them full of mockery. In a way these Cranks were worse than the nose-missing guy he’d stabbed the day before—at least with him they’d known exactly what they were dealing with.
“Do it,” Brenda whispered.
Thomas balled his hand into a fist and did the slow fist thumps, then the fast ones. Then he rapped the wood twice with his knuckles. The door opened immediately, the pounding music escaping like a blasting wind.
The guy who greeted them was huge, ears and face pierced several times, tattoos all over. His hair was long and white, reaching well past his shoulders. But Thomas barely had time to register this before the man spoke.
“Hey, Thomas. We’ve been waiting for you.”
CHAPTER 37
The next minute or so was a stunned blur of the five senses.
The welcome statement had shocked Thomas, but before he could respond, the long-haired man practically pulled him and Brenda inside, then started ushering them through a tightly packed crowd of dancing bodies, gyrating and jumping and hugging and spinning. The music was deafening, each beat of the drums like a hammer to Thomas’s skull. Several flashlights had been strung from the ceiling; they swayed back and forth as people swatted them, sending beams of light slashing this way and that.
Long Hair leaned over and spoke to Thomas as they slowly made their way through the dancers; Thomas could barely hear him even though he was yelling.
“Thank God for batteries! Life’s gonna suck when those run out!”
“How did you know my name?” Thomas yelled back. “Why were you waiting for me?”
The man laughed. “We watched you all night! Then this morning we saw your reaction to the sign through a window—figured you had to be the famous Thomas!”
Brenda had both arms wrapped around Thomas’s waist, clinging to him, probably just so they wouldn’t get separated. Probably. But when she heard this, she squeezed even tighter.
Thomas looked back, saw Blondie and his two friends following on their heels. The gun had been put away, but Thomas knew it could be brought right back out again.
The music blared. The bass thumped and rattled