Chapter 21

Voices... yelling... bright light... screaming? Everything felt so heavy. Thomas' chest felt like someone lit a fire inside him, he could only see his surroundings for a few seconds at most.

The first thing he saw was a singular light bulb inside of a cupboard; then faces, lights rushing by, a bright light, more faces.. It was an endless cycle, his chest stopped feeling heavy and everything went quiet. No voices, no lights in his face, just.. silence.

His eyes opened to a much dimmer light. Something started beeping, breaking his silence; there was also a tube in his arm and a large plaster on his chest, but that seemed to be it. The room was small, with one side being glass with nobody stood behind it, and nor was anybody in the room with him. Wait... He looked back down at his chest, then felt his heart drop. Right... he tried to kill himself, and he ultimately failed- Newt!

Thomas bolted out of bed, thankful to see he was wearing his own trousers. He ripped out the wire in his hand, causing it to bleed, but he just darted out the room and almost ran smack into a wall.

The sound alerted someone, running towards him before Thomas could get too far. "Newt!" He cried, struggling against their grip. "Where is he!? Where's my Newt!?"

"Now isn't the time for him, get back in bed!" The person shouted at them, sticking something sharp into his arm. "You're tired."

Thomas tore from the person's arms, but he stumbled and quickly slapped a hand at the wall to stay standing. "Newt. I have to find him. I have to see him! Is he alive? Where is he!?"

"Bed."

"Newt..." He fell backwards into the person's arms, exhausted. "Please..." He felt his legs buckle and he closed his eyes.

The next thing he knew, he was waking back up in a bed. A different bed... The dorms?! "Morning, shank." He heard Minho say, malice in his tone. "You're a real slinthead, you are."

"Newt-"

"Is alive." Thomas sighed in relief, hands going over his face. "I got back a day after your stupid act in that little cupboard, and we managed to get Newt the cure in time. As much I hate saying this, because you.." Minho couldn't say it. "It slowed down his brain activity so the darkness didn't take him while we were gone; but that doesn't give you justice for what you did!"

"Newt asked me to... He asked me a while ago, but I said no; I refused to do it unless he was begging and crying and not being himself. He was-" Thomas stopped. "It was just a spur of the moment, I just didn't feel like I could go on... I'm sorry." He couldn't tell Minho what Newt was like in there; he was their best friend, but Newt's mental state just felt too personal.

"Glad you thought about me. Thanks for almost leaving me behind." It was only fair for Minho to be angry, he almost lost his two closest friends.

"Is Newt awake?" Minho scoffed. "Sorry, sorry.. Are you doing okay?"

"I'm doing just fine, thanks for asking. Newt's still in the infirmary, you got him at the base of his neck; he only just got his breathing back yesterday, so he's not awake. As much as I want to punch you right in the face, I have to thank you for having such a terrible nerve. If you had even been an inch to the left, he wouldn't be here, and neither would you." Minho paused. "If Newt really did ask you..." He didn't finish his sentence.

"All I remember is holding that gun, and my hands were shaking... Then..." Thomas sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. "I have to see him. See what I did."

Minho was sick of being ignored, so he just gestured for Thomas to leave. The infirmary wasn't far away, and all the rooms had windows so Thomas found him in the third one along. Like his own room, it was empty, but inside there was the beeping of a heart monitor. He wore an oxygen mask, an IV in his left arm, and stitches in his neck; so that's where he hit... "Newt? Are you awake?" He whispered, entering the room fully and sitting beside the bed. "Newt?"

He didn't get an answer so he tried giving Newt a light shake, but still nothing. He looked at the stitches on his neck, half riddled with guilt, half wondering how he could be so off. He'd aimed for the forehead after all, and he got his neck; so close to being vital, it was more collarbone where it was. He hoped despite missing, Newt didn't suffer like Thomas had, he hoped he blacked out quickly.

Thomas felt like apologising, even though Newt wanted this to happen, but he didn't want to hurt him like this. Hell, himself either, this was all a mess. If Newt stayed this way for too long, WICKED would probably let him die and Thomas would be moved on without him. Thomas wouldn't be able to protect him.

Hopefully with WICKED's technology he wouldn't be out much longer, maybe a day or two more. For now, Thomas had to work on getting answers for what was going to happen next; as much as he wanted to stay and hold Newt's hand and tell him things would be okay, the best thing for Newt was to keep him safe as long as he could. He had to protect him...

~*~

Newt woke up the next day, alone, but Thomas never came. He was busy looking around and finding information, so Minho was there instead. When Thomas finally decided to visit, he saw Minho walking towards him.

Minho almost walked past when grabbed Thomas by the arm, stopping him. "We're breaking out. A few of the others stole some cure and now we're going to break out with it."

"Wait, what!?" Thomas dropped to a whisper. "Why?"

"What do you mean why? WICKED sure aren't going to give this to the public, wherever they are. This place is a trap, I don't trust it, the others don't trust it, Newt doesn't trust it! We'll just hide or kill the goners on our way, their brains are fried so there's no getting them back."

"Why are you thinking like this? WICKED have plans for us. Good plans!"

"What plans?"

"I can't tell you, not here, it's too open. I know Newt isn't the only one not immune, but they've all had the cure now, but even so if you leave you're going to die."

"How would you know what it's like out there? You haven't left this place, just like the rest of us. Where have you been the past few days? What are you up to?"

"I've been looking into what's next. I promise it's somewhere safe, with the other immunes, we're going to rebuild this country. I don't know what the rest of the world is like, or where we even are, but where we're going will be safe. Plans changed, and WICKED are being stingy on even telling me what's going on."

"You seriously trust these guys?" Minho's voice returned to its normal volume, but it was already clear that Tomas was agitating him. "You're mad."

"Minho, you should really take the cure."

He sighed, letting go of Thomas' arm. "I'm not getting the shuck darkness, I'm immune like you. I'm just saying, that once Newt's up and around, we're leaving. You coming?"

Thomas paused, looking away. "I'm going to talk some sense into him."

Minho yelled at him as he walked off, but Thomas knew he was right. He had to be right. WICKED was always right. "WICKED is good..."

~*~

"Tommy, I am way too tired to be arguing right now..." Newt had his hands over his face, exasperated and exhausted. "I get where you're coming from but at least Minho has a plan, you're going off on some whim that we can trust WICKED after all they've done to us, all the lies and tricks."

"I promise we're going somewhere safe! I know I told you out in that scorch to be wary of the future but plans change. Others will be there, girls!" Thomas was halfway to pleading, but Newt was having none of it. "I'm not leaving, Newt."

"That's why I can't trust what you say, your plans of the future change like flipping a coin." Thomas held his hand, but Newt looked away to avoid the look in his eyes. "Bloody hell, Tommy, you can't make me choose between you and everyone else, that's not right. I have the choice of never seeing you again, or go against what I think is the right decision and trust your gut?"

"I'm..." Thomas sighed. "I'm not going to hate you if you choose to go, I just think it's a really bad idea. They know Minho has the cure, and they're either going to let him leave or they'll stop you in your tracks if they're given half a chance. They're probably already securing every exit."

"Then we won't give them that chance!"

"Oh forget it. Just get better, and make sure you at least say goodbye. Your mind is set, so I wish you all the best. "Thomas got up to leave, but Newt grabbed onto his wrist.

"You're not bloody going anywhere. Sit down. We're having a serious chat right now and you're not leaving it. Right now, I'm dead exhausted and my throat hurts like hell and you're going to break up with me because I'm trusting my friends over my boyfriend's whim? I don't see how you find that so unbelievable."

They were really doing this, then; they were arguing. Thomas sat back down but Newt didn't let go, making sure he wouldn't leave. "Because I'm the only one with my memories back, I know everything. Okay? Minho doesn't know what WICKED can be like!"

"I highly doubt that. You've never exactly elaborated why you treat these shanks like bloody gods."

"Then I'll start from the beginning."

Thomas and the others were all gathered in the school hall, having their first assembly. Thomas and James were already friends, though it seemed nobody else had socialised yet so they were doing that now, talking amongst each other.

The head, they called her Paige, stood at the front and shushed them all. "Okay everyone, welcome to the complex. As your parents have said, you're all very special and have been specifically chosen to be here." The majority of them were around four years old, so she couldn't really say much that wouldn't go over their heads. "Things are going to change when you get older, but for now, I hope you enjoy yourselves."

"I'm not really sure why I remember that, but I do remember from day one this girl called... Something, started working on the maze with me. We knew from the get go this darkness thing was bad, and what we were doing was going to help. The darkness did breach WICKED's walls, but the changes kicked in when we were twelve."

Everyone had their new names now, and Thomas was strongly against the idea. The maze was almost complete and work on the scorch had begun, the WKD just out of its design phase from Thomas.

The girls disappeared a year later, they didn't tell him where, and Alby left not long after her.

"Somehow a goner got into the building and ran around the entire place, infecting everyone since it's airborn. We all quarantined ourselves in a portion of the building to reduce it as much as possible, so trials had to start earlier than we'd planned them to. Of course, you were third up, because you were vulnerable to the darkness, and the rest you know.

"Back at WICKED though, before I came up, I knew all about what was going to come."

"You know what the maze is made to do, Thomas, only the fittest both physically and mentally will survive. The desert will allow the darkness to develop and the ones who die, must not be saved, only the strongest may survive." Thomas only nodded; he'd forced himself to grow a hard outer shell since he had to send James up into the maze two years ago.

"And afterwards? What happens then?" He asked, watching the boys on the monitors.

"That is still in development. The girls and others from sectors B and C will be creating a place for you to go. The immunes are allowed to leave. If the cure is made, then plans may change."

"What's going to happen there? What kind of tests will you perform?"

"Anyone without memories shall be offered them, and if they refuse, then it will be a painful experience for them. You need not know any more."

"Will they die?"

"Kill or be killed, Thomas. Extraction is the only way to stop, it will belittle the weak. When the maze has finished, we will be able to tell you more on the matter, plans can change at the flip of a coin."

Thomas hummed, watching Ja-Newt, limp around the garden. "Sacrifice few to save the many." It was like a mantra, drilled into Thomas' brain.

"WICKED is good."

Thomas looked at Newt expectantly, as if that story explained his reasoning for trusting WICKED. Newt was still sceptical, and angry more than anything else. "So we die if we choose not to get our memories back? What kind of choice is that!?"

"It's weak, Newt, if you can't handle the truth then you don't have the mental strength to live any longer-"

"So I should have died in the maze?" Thomas frowned at him. "My leg."

"N-no that's not what I meant... I mean if you can't handle the truth of reality-"

"That's exactly why I did it!"

"But Newt if you keep your memories it'll be like going gone again! The device in your brain will explode if it gets damaged, and WICKED are going to damage it!"

"So escaping is a weak thing to do, huh? Brains turned to mush the moment they see we're gone with none of our memories? It sounds like you're calling me and my dead friends weak, Thomas."

"That's why you should come with me! You'll meet the others, all immune, all safe. The place exists, it has to be around here somewhere, they can't hide something that big! I plan to find it in the next few days, it has to exist."

"I..." Newt finally let go of Thomas' arm, noticing the skin was white from where he gripped him, now leaving a pink print. "I give up. Give me time to think about it, I'm not completely myself yet. I still don't think you're telling me everything, I think you're the one with a messed up brain. WICKED controls you, not us."

"It's because I understand."

"What ever happened to your moral compass? You watched me hurt myself, you watched my friends kill themselves, you let them die."

"To save the many."

"What many!? It doesn't matter if someone is weak or not. They're still people! Show some bloody compassion!"

"Resources are dwindling."

"As they have been since humans started using oil and trees for resources hundreds of years ago. I'm going to pass out, we'll continue this later."

"But-"

"Later." Newt rolled over, refusing to say any more.

Thomas sighed and stood up. "I'll explain it to Minho, I bet he'll think differently."

"You do that."