Текст книги "The Death Cure"

Автор книги: James Dashner

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

The guy who grabbed Thomas’s arm was twice as thick as he was, powerfully built. He walked briskly through the door and into the hallway, pulling Thomas along after him. Thomas looked back to see another guard half drag Minho across the floor to follow, and Newt was right behind them, struggling to no avail.

The boys were hauled down corridor after corridor, the only sounds coming from Minho-grunts and shouts and curses. Thomas tried to tell him to stop-that he was only making it worse, that he was probably going to get shot-but Minho ignored him, fighting tooth and nail until the group finally stopped in front of a door.

One of the armed guards used a key card to unlock the door. She pushed it open to reveal a small bedroom with two sets of bunk beds and a kitchenette with a table and chairs in the far corner. It certainly wasn’t what Thomas had been expecting-he’d pictured the Slammer back in the Glade, with its dirt floor and one half-broken chair.

“In you go,” she said. “We’ll have some food brought to you. Be glad we don’t starve you for a few days after the way you’ve been acting. Tests tomorrow, so you better get some sleep tonight.”

The three men pushed the Gladers into the room and swung the door closed; the click of the lock engaging echoed through the air.

Immediately all the feelings of captivity Thomas had endured in the white-walled prison came flooding back. He crossed the floor to the door and twisted the knob, pulled and pushed with all his weight. He pounded on it with both fists, screaming as loudly as he could for someone to let them out.

“Slim it,” Newt said from behind him. “No one’s coming to bloody tuck you in.”

Thomas whirled around, but when he saw his friend standing in front of him, he stopped. Minho spoke before he could put words together.

“I guess we missed our chance.” He plopped down on one of the bottom bunks. “We’ll be old men or dead before your magical moment comes rolling along, Thomas. It’s not like they’re going to make a big announcement: ‘Now would be an excellent time to escape, because we’ll be busy for the next ten minutes.’ We’ve gotta take some chances.”

Thomas hated to admit that his friends were right, but they were. They all should’ve made a run for it before those guards showed up. “Sorry. It just didn’t feel right yet. And once they had all those weapons in our faces, it seemed kind of pointless to waste the effort trying anything.”

“Yeah, well” was all Minho said. Then, “You and Brenda had a nice little reunion.”

Thomas took a deep breath. “She said something.”

Minho sat up straighter on the bed. “What do you mean she said something?”

“She told me not to trust them-to only trust her and someone named Chancellor Paige.”

“Well, what’s her buggin’ deal anyway?” Newt asked. “She works for WICKED? What, was she just a bloody actress down in the Scorch?”

“Yeah, sounds like she’s no better than the rest of them,” Minho added.

Thomas just didn’t agree. He couldn’t even explain it to himself, much less to his friends. “Look, I used to work for them, too, but you trust me, right? It doesn’t mean anything. Maybe she had no choice, maybe she’s changed. I don’t know.”

Minho squinted as if he was thinking but didn’t respond. Newt just sat down on the floor and folded his arms, pouting like a little kid.

Thomas shook his head. He was sick of puzzling everything out. He walked over and opened the small fridge-his stomach was rumbling with hunger. He found some cheese sticks and grapes and divvied them up, then practically shoved his portion down his throat before drinking a full bottle of juice. The other two gobbled theirs as well, no one saying a word.

A woman showed up soon after with plates of pork chops and potatoes, and they ate that, too. It was early evening, according to Thomas’s watch, but he couldn’t imagine being able to fall asleep. He sat down in a chair, facing his friends, wondering what they should do. He was still feeling a little chagrined, like it was his fault that they’d yet to try anything, but he didn’t offer any ideas.

Minho was the first one to speak since the food had come. “Maybe we should just give in to those shuck-faces. Do what they want. One day we’ll all sit around, fat and happy.”

Thomas knew he didn’t mean a word of it. “Yeah, maybe you can find a nice pretty girl who works here, settle down, get married and have kids. Just in time for the world to end in a sea of lunatics.”

Minho kept at it. “WICKED’s going to figure out this blueprint business and we’ll all live happily ever after.”

“That’s not even funny,” Newt said grumpily. “Even if they did find a cure, you saw it out there in the Scorch. It’s gonna be a buggin’ long time before the world can ever get back to normal. Even if it can-we’ll never see it.”

Thomas realized he was just sitting there, staring at a spot on the floor. “After everything they’ve done to us, I just don’t believe any of it.” He couldn’t get past the news about Newt-his friend, who’d do anything for someone else. They’d given him a death sentence-an incurable disease-just to watch what would happen.

“That Janson guy thinks he has it all figured out,” Thomas continued. “He thinks it all comes down to some sort of greater good. Let the human race kick the bucket, or do awful things and save it. Even the few who are immune probably wouldn’t last long in a world where ninety-nine-point-nine percent of people turn into psycho monsters.”

“What’s your point?” Minho muttered.

“My point is that before they swiped my memory, I think I used to buy all that junk. But not anymore.” And the one thing that terrified him now was that any returning memories might make him change his mind about that.

“Then let’s not waste our next chance, Tommy,” Newt said.

“Tomorrow,” Minho added. “Somehow, some way.”

Thomas gave each of them a long look. “Okay. Somehow, some way.”

Newt yawned, making the other two do the same. “Then we better quit yapping and get some buggin’ sleep.”

CHAPTER 9

It took over an hour of staring into the dark, but Thomas eventually fell asleep. And when he did, his dreams were a slew of scattered images and memories.

A woman, sitting at a table, smiling as she stares across the wood surface, directly into his eyes. As he watches her she picks up a cup of steaming liquid and takes a tentative sip. Another smile. Then she says, “Eat your cereal, now. That’s a good boy.” It’s his mom, with her kind face, her love for him evident in every crease of her skin as she grins. She doesn’t stop watching over him until he eats the last bite, and she takes his bowl over to the sink after tousling his hair.

Then he’s on the carpeted floor of a small room, playing with silvery blocks that seem to fuse together as he builds a huge castle. His mom is sitting on a chair in the corner, crying. Thomas knows instantly why. His dad has been diagnosed with the Flare, is already showing signs of it. This leaves no doubt that his mom also has the disease, or will soon. The dreaming Thomas knows that it won’t be long before doctors realize his younger self has the virus but is immune to its effects. By then they’d developed the test that recognizes it.

Next he’s riding his bike on a hot day. Heat’s rising from the pavement, just weeds on both sides of the street, where there used to be grass. He has a smile on his sweaty face. His mom watches nearby, and he can see that she’s savoring every moment. They head to a nearby pond. The water is stagnant and foul-smelling. She gathers rocks for him to toss into the murky depths. At first he throws them as far as possible; then he tries to skip them the way his dad showed him last summer. He still can’t do it. Tired, their strength sapped from the stifling weather, he and his mother finally head home.

Then things in the dream-the memories-turn darker.

He’s back inside and a man in a dark suit is sitting on a couch. Papers in his hand, a grave look on his face. Thomas standing next to his mom, holding her hand. WICKED has been formed, a joint venture of the world’s governments-those that survived the sun flares, an event that took place long before Thomas was born. WICKED’s purpose is to study what is now known as the killzone, where the Flare does its damage. The brain.

The man is saying that Thomas is immune. Others are immune. Less than one percent of the population, most of them under the age of twenty. And the world is dangerous for them. They’re hated for their immunity to the terrible virus, are mockingly called Munies. People do terrible things to them. WICKED says they can protect Thomas, and Thomas can help them work to find a cure. They say he’s smart-one of the smartest who have been tested. His mom has no choice but to let him go. She certainly doesn’t want her boy to watch as she slowly goes insane.

Later she tells Thomas that she loves him and is so glad that he’ll never go through what they witnessed happen to his dad. The madness took away every ounce of what made him who he was-what made him human.

And after that the dream faded, and Thomas fell into a deep void of sleep.***

A loud knocking woke him early the next morning. He’d barely gotten up on his elbows when the door opened and the same five guards from the day before came in with Launchers raised. Janson stepped into the room right after them.

“Rise and shine, boys,” the Rat Man said. “We’ve decided to give you your memories back after all. Like it or not.”

CHAPTER 10

Thomas was still groggy from sleep. The dreams he’d had-the memories of his childhood-clouded his mind. He almost didn’t catch what the man had said.

“Like hell you are,” Newt responded. He was out of his bed, fists clenched at his sides, glaring at Janson.

Thomas couldn’t remember ever seeing such fire in his friend’s eyes. And then the full force of the Rat Man’s words snapped Thomas out of his fog.

He swung his legs around to the floor. “You told us we didn’t have to.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have much of a choice,” Janson replied. “The time for lies is over. Nothing’s going to work with you three still in the dark. I’m sorry. We need to do this. Newt, of everyone, you will benefit the most from a cure, after all.”

“I don’t care about myself anymore,” Newt responded in a low growl.

Thomas’s instincts took over then. He knew that this was the moment he’d been waiting for. It was the final straw.

Thomas watched Janson carefully. The man’s face softened and he took a deep breath, as if he sensed the growing danger in the room and wanted to neutralize it. “Look, Newt, Minho, Thomas. I understand how you must feel. You’ve seen some awful things. But the worst part is over. We can’t change the past, can’t take back what has happened to you and your friends. But wouldn’t it be a waste to not complete the blueprint at this point?”

“Can’t take it back?” Newt shouted. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Watch yourself,” one of the guards warned, pointing a Launcher at Newt’s chest.

The room fell silent. Thomas had never seen Newt like this. So angry-so unwilling to put on a calm front, even.

Janson continued. “We’re running out of time. Now let’s go or we’ll have a repeat of yesterday. My guards are willing, I assure you.”

Minho jumped down from the bunk above Newt’s. “He’s right,” he said matter-of-factly. “If we can save you, Newt-and who knows how many others-we’d be shuck idiots to stay in this room a second longer.” Minho shot Thomas a glance and nodded toward the door. “Come on, let’s go.” He walked past Rat Man and the guards into the hallway without looking back.

Janson raised his eyebrows at Thomas, who was struggling to hide his surprise. Minho’s announcement was so strange-he had to have some sort of plan. Pretending to go along with things would buy them time.

Thomas turned away from the guards and Rat Man and gave Newt a quick wink that only he could see. “Let’s just listen to what they want us to do.” He tried to sound casual, sincere, but it was one of the hardest things he’d done yet. “I worked for these people before the Maze. I couldn’t have been totally wrong, right?”

“Oh, please.” Newt rolled his eyes, but he moved toward the door, and Thomas smiled inwardly at his small victory.

“You’ll all be heroes when this is over,” Janson said as Thomas followed Newt out of the room.

“Oh, shut up,” Thomas replied.

Thomas and his friends followed the Rat Man down the mazelike corridors once again. As they walked, Janson narrated the journey as if he were a tour guide. He explained that the facility didn’t have many windows because of the often fierce weather outside, and the attacks from roaming gangs of infected people. He mentioned the severe rainstorm the night the Gladers been taken from the Maze, and how the group of Cranks had broken through the outer perimeter to watch them board the bus.

Thomas remembered that night all too well. He could still feel the bump of the tires running over the woman who’d accosted him before he boarded the bus, how the driver didn’t even slow down. He could hardly believe that had happened only weeks ago-it felt like it’d been years.

“I really wish you’d just shut your mouth,” Newt finally spat. And the Rat Man did, but he never wiped the slight grin off his face.

When they reached the area they’d been in the day before, the Rat Man stopped and turned to address them. “I hope you will all cooperate today. I’m expecting nothing less.”

“Where is everybody else?” Thomas asked.

“The other subjects have been recovering-”

Before he could finish Newt had pounced, grabbing the Rat Man by the lapels of his white suit coat and slamming him against the nearest door. “Call them subjects again and I’ll break your bloody neck!”

Two guards were on Newt in an instant; they pulled him away from Janson and threw him to the floor, aiming their Launchers at his face.

“Wait!” Janson yelled. “Wait.” He composed himself and straightened his wrinkled shirt and jacket. “Don’t disable him. Let’s just get this over with.”

Newt slowly got to his feet, arms raised. “Don’t call us subjects. We’re not mice trying to find the cheese. And tell your shuck friends to calm down-I wasn’t gonna hurt you. Much.” His eyes fell on Thomas, questioning.

WICKED is good.

For some inexplicable reason, those words popped into Thomas’s mind. It was almost as if his former self-the one who’d believed that WICKED’s objective was worth any depraved action-was trying to convince him that it was true. That no matter how horrible it seemed, they must do whatever it took to find a cure for the Flare.

But something was different now. He couldn’t understand who he’d been before. How he could have thought any of this was okay. He’d changed forever… but he had to give them the old Thomas one last time.

“Newt, Minho,” he said quietly, before the Rat Man could speak again. “I think he’s right. I think it’s time we did what we’re supposed to do. We all agreed to it just last night.”

Minho broke into a nervous smile. Newt’s hands balled into fists.

It was now or never.

CHAPTER 11

Thomas didn’t hesitate. He swung his elbow backward into the face of the guard behind him just as he kicked the knee of the one in front. Both fell to the floor, stunned, but recovered quickly. Out of the corner of his eye Thomas saw Newt tackle a guard to the ground; Minho was punching another. But the fifth-a woman-hadn’t been touched, and she was raising her Launcher.

Thomas dove for her, knocked the end of the weapon toward the ceiling before she could press the trigger, but she brought it around and smashed it into the side of his head. Pain exploded in his cheeks and jaw. He was already off balance, and crumpled to his knees, then flat onto his stomach. He put his hands under him to get up, but a crushing weight fell on his back, slamming him to the hard tile and knocking the breath from his lungs. A knee dug into his spine and he felt hard metal press against his skull.

“Give me the word!” the woman yelled. “A.D. Janson, give me the word! I’ll fry his brain.”

Thomas couldn’t see the others, but the sounds of scuffling had already stopped. He knew that meant their mutiny had been short-lived, all three of them subdued in less than a minute. His heart ached with despair.

“What are you people thinking!” Janson roared from behind Thomas. He could only imagine how enraged the man’s weaselly face must look. “You really think three… children can overpower five armed guards? You kids are supposed to be geniuses, not idiotic… delusional rebels . Maybe the Flare has taken your minds after all!”

“Shut up!” Thomas heard Newt scream. “Just shut your-”

Something muffled the rest of his words. Imagining one of the guards hurting Newt made Thomas tremble with rage. The woman pressed her weapon even harder against his head.

“Don’t… even… think about it,” she whispered in his ear.

“Get them up!” Janson barked. “Get them up!”

The guard pulled Thomas to his feet by the back of his shirt, keeping the business end of the Launcher pressed against his head. Newt and Minho were being held at Launcher-point as well, and the two free guards were training their weapons on the three Gladers.

Janson’s face burned red. “Completely ridiculous! We absolutely will not allow this to happen again.” He spun on Thomas.

“I was just a kid,” Thomas said, surprising himself.

“Excuse me?” Janson asked.

Thomas glared at the Rat Man. “I was a kid. They brainwashed me into doing those things-into helping.” That was what had been eating away at him since the memories had started coming back. Since he’d been able to start connecting the dots.

“I wasn’t there in the beginning,” Janson said in a level voice. “But you yourself approved me for this job after the original founders were purged. And you should know, I’ve never seen someone, child or adult, as driven as you were.” He smiled and Thomas wanted to rip his face off.

“I don’t care what you-”

“Enough!” Janson yelled. “We’ll do him first.” He gestured at one of the guards. “Get a nurse down here. Brenda’s inside-she’s been insisting that she wants to help. Maybe he’ll be easier to deal with if she’s the technician working with him. Take the others to the waiting room-I’d like to do them one at a time. I need to go check on another matter, so I’ll meet you there.”

Thomas was so upset that he didn’t even register Brenda’s name. Another guard joined the one behind him and they each took hold of an arm.

“I won’t let you do it!” Thomas screamed, a hysteria rising up in him. The thought of learning who he’d been terrified him. “There’s no way you’re putting that thing on my face!”

Janson ignored him and spoke directly to the guards. “Make sure she sedates him.” Then he started walking away.

The two guards pulled Thomas toward the door, his feet dragging behind him. He struggled, tried to free his arms, but their hands were like iron manacles, and he finally gave up to conserve his strength. The realization hit him that he might have lost the fight. His only hope was Brenda.

Brenda stood next to a bed inside the room. Her face was stony. Thomas searched her eyes, but she was impossible to read.

His captives yanked him farther into the room. He couldn’t understand why Brenda was there, helping WICKED do this. “Why are you working for them?” His voice sounded weak to his ears.

The guards spun him around.

“Better to just keep your mouth shut,” Brenda answered. “I need you to trust me like you did back in the Scorch. This is for the best.”

He couldn’t see her, but there was something in her voice. Despite what she’d said, she sounded warm. Could she be on his side?

The guards pulled Thomas to the last bed in the row. Then the female guard released him and aimed her Launcher at him while the man held Thomas against the edge of the mattress.

“Lie down,” the guard said.

“No,” Thomas growled.

The guard swung back and slapped Thomas across the cheek. “Lie down! Now!”

“No.”

The man lifted Thomas by the shoulders and slammed him onto the mattress. “This is going to happen, so you might as well not fight it.” The metallic mask with its wires and tubes hung above him like a giant spider waiting to smother him.

“You’re not putting that thing on my face.” Thomas’s heart raced dangerously now, the fear he’d been holding at bay rushing in, beginning to take away any calm that could help him figure a way out of this.

The male guard took both of Thomas’s wrists and pressed them to the mattress as he leaned forward with all his weight to make sure Thomas didn’t go anywhere. “Sedate him.”

Thomas forced himself to calm down, save his energy for one last effort to escape. He almost hurt at seeing Brenda; he’d grown closer to her than he’d realized. If she helped force him to do this, it would mean she was the enemy as well. It was too heartbreaking to even consider.

“Please, Brenda,” he said. “Don’t do it. Don’t let them do this.”

She stepped close to him and gently touched his shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay. Not everyone is out to make your life miserable-you’ll thank me later for what I’m about to do. Now quit your whining and relax.”

He still couldn’t read her for the life of him. “That’s it? After everything back in the Scorch? How many times did we almost die in that city? All we went through, and you’re just gonna abandon me?”

“Thomas…” She trailed off, not bothering to hide her frustration. “It was my job.”

“I heard your voice in my head. You warned me that things were about to get bad. Please tell me you’re not really with them.”

“When we made it back to HQ after the Scorch, I got into the telepathy system because I wanted to warn you. Prepare you. I never expected us to become friends in that hell.”

On some level, just hearing that she’d felt that way, too, made things more manageable, and now he really couldn’t stop himself. “Do you have the Flare?” he asked.

She answered in quick, short bursts. “I was acting. Jorge and I are immune-we’ve known it for a long time. It’s why they used us. Now be quiet.” Her eyes flickered over to the guard.

“Get on with it!” the male guard suddenly shouted.

Brenda gave the man a stern look but didn’t say anything. Then she gazed at Thomas and surprised him with a slight wink. “Once I inject the sedative, you’ll be asleep in seconds. Do you understand?” She stressed that last word, then subtly winked again. Luckily the two guards were focused on their prisoner and not her.

Thomas was confused, but hope ran through his body. She was up to something.

Brenda moved to the counter behind her and started preparing what she needed, and the guard continued to lean all of his weight on Thomas’s wrists, cutting off the circulation. Sweat beaded on the man’s forehead, but it was clear he wasn’t letting go until Thomas was unconscious. The female guard stood just beside him, her Launcher aimed at Thomas’s face.

Brenda turned back around, a syringe in her left hand, its nozzle pointing up, her thumb on the trigger. A yellowish liquid showed in the small window on the side. “Okay, Thomas. We’re going to do this really fast. Are you ready?”

He nodded at her, not sure what she meant but determined to be prepared.

“Good,” she replied. “You better be.”

CHAPTER 12

Brenda smiled and moved toward Thomas, then tripped on something and stumbled forward. She caught the bed with her right hand, but she fell in such a way that the syringe’s nozzle landed on the forearm of the guard gripping Thomas’s wrist. She instantly pushed the trigger with her thumb, releasing a quick, sharp hiss, before he jerked himself away.

“What the hell!” the man shouted, but his eyes were already glazed.

Thomas acted instantly. Now free from those iron fists, he pushed down on the bed and swung his legs in an arc toward the female guard, who was just coming to her senses after a brief moment of frozen shock. One foot connected with her Launcher and the other with her shoulder. She let out a yell, which was closely followed by the smack of her head hitting the floor.

Thomas scrambled after the Launcher, grabbed it before it slid out of reach and aimed it at the woman, who was holding her head in her hands. Brenda had run around the bed and grabbed the man’s weapon, and she pointed it at his limp body.

Thomas gasped for air, his chest heaving as adrenaline throbbed through his body. He hadn’t felt so good in weeks. “I knew you-”

Before he could finish, Brenda fired her Launcher.

A high-pitched sound pierced the air, increasing in volume for a split second before the gun discharged and kicked, making Brenda jerk backward. One of the shiny grenades shot out, slammed into the woman’s chest and exploded, sending tendrils of lightning arcing across her body. She began to twitch uncontrollably.

Thomas stared, stunned at what the Launcher did to a person and amazed that Brenda had shot it without hesitation. If he had needed further proof that Brenda wasn’t totally committed to WICKED, he’d just seen it. He looked at her.

She returned his gaze, the slightest of smiles on her face. “I’ve been wanting to do something like that for a long time. Good thing I convinced Janson to assign me to you for this procedure.” She bent over and took the unconscious man’s key card, slipped it into her pocket. “This’ll get us in anywhere.”

Thomas had to resist the urge to pull her into a hug.

“Come on,” he said. “We have to get Newt and Minho. Then everybody else.”

They sprinted through a couple of twists and turns in the hallways, Brenda leading. It reminded Thomas of the time she’d led him through the underground tunnels in the Scorch. He urged her to hurry-he knew that more guards could show up at any second.

They reached a door, and Brenda swiped the key card to open it; a brief hiss sounded, and then the slab of metal swung open. Thomas burst through with Brenda close on his heels.

The Rat Man was sitting in a chair but sprang to his feet, his expression quickly twisting to a look of horror. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

Brenda had already fired two grenades at the guards. A man and a woman dropped to the ground, convulsing in a cloud of smoke and tiny lightning bolts. Newt and Minho tackled the third guard; Minho grabbed his weapon.

Thomas trained his Launcher on Janson and put his finger on the trigger. “Give me your key card, then get on the ground, hands on your head.” His voice was steady but his heart was racing.

“This is complete lunacy,” Janson said. He handed his card to Thomas. He spoke quietly, seeming amazingly calm under the circumstances. “You have zero chance of getting out of this complex. More guards are already on their way.”

Thomas knew their odds were bad, but it was all they had. “After what we’ve been through, this is nothing.” He smiled as he realized it was true. “Thanks for the training. Now, another word and you’ll get to experience-how did you put it? ‘The worst five minutes of your life’?”

“How can-”

Thomas pulled the trigger. The high-pitched sound filled the room, followed by the launch of a grenade. It hit the man’s chest and exploded in a brilliant display of electricity. He screamed as he fell to the ground, convulsing, smoke streaming off his hair and clothing. The room filled with an awful smell-a stench that reminded Thomas of the Scorch, when Minho was struck by lightning.

“That can’t feel good,” Thomas said to his friends. He sounded so calm to his own ears that it disturbed him. As he watched their nemesis twitch, he was almost ashamed for feeling no guilt. Almost.

“It supposedly won’t kill him,” Brenda said.

“That’s a shame,” Minho replied. He stood after tying up the uninjured guard with his belt. “The world would’ve been better off.”

Thomas turned his attention from the twitching man at his feet. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“I’ll bloody drink to that,” Newt said.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Minho added.

They all turned to look at Brenda. She lifted her Launcher in her arms and nodded. She looked ready for a fight.

“I hate these people just as much as you,” she said. “I’m in.”

For the second time in the last few days, Thomas was filled with that foreign feeling of happiness. Brenda was back. He glanced at Janson. The crackling static was beginning to die. The man’s eyes were closed and he’d finally stopped moving, but he was still breathing.

“I don’t know how long a blast from one of these lasts,” Brenda said, “and he’s definitely going to wake up angry. We better get out of here.”

“What’s the plan?” Newt asked.

Thomas didn’t have a clue. “We’ll make it up as we go.”

“Jorge’s a pilot,” Brenda offered. “If we can somehow make it to the hangar, to his Berg…”

Before anyone could respond, shouts and footsteps sounded in the hall.

“They’re coming,” Thomas said. The reality of their situation hit him again-no one was going to let them just waltz out of the building. Who knew how many guards they’d have to get past.

Minho ran to the door and took a stance right next to it. “They’ll all have to come through right here.”

The sounds from the hallway were getting louder-the guards were close.

“Newt,” Thomas said. “You get on the other side of the doorway. Brenda and I’ll shoot the first couple who come through. You guys catch the rest from the sides, then get out into the hallway. We’ll be right behind you.”

They took their positions.

CHAPTER 13

Brenda’s expression was a strange mixture of anger and excitement. Thomas readied himself next to her, gripping the Launcher tightly in his hands. He knew it was a gamble to trust Brenda. He’d been tricked by nearly everyone in this organization; he couldn’t underestimate WICKED. But she was the only reason they’d gotten this far. And if he was going to bring her along, he couldn’t doubt her anymore.

The first guard arrived, a man dressed in the same black gear as all the others, but with a different type of weapon-smaller and sleeker-held tightly in front of him. Thomas fired, watched the grenade connect with the man’s chest; it sent him reeling backward, twitching and convulsing in a web of lightning.

Two more people-a man and a woman-were right behind him with Launchers raised.