The Fever Code (The Maze Runner 0.6)

Thomas was stunned. For the first time since the man named Randall had hurt him, he felt a sudden and shocking anger toward the people behind it all. Toward WICKED. Here stood a boy, a few dozen feet from his own sister, and he couldn’t even pretend to know her.

“I did as they asked, I stopped using my real name,” Newt continued. “I think I was one of the last holdouts. But hers I’ll never forget. They’ll have to kill me first.”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas whispered, not sure what to say. His own heart ached thinking of his mom, and just how impossibly hard it would be if she lay in a bed in the barracks below him. How could he not break the glass and go to her? How?

Newt stood up straight and wiped the tears from his eyes. He appeared to feel no shame whatsoever at letting anyone see him cry.

“That’s the way of things, Tommy,” he said, his voice not quite steady. “The world outside’s gone to hell. Why should we expect any different in here? At least I can see her there, sleeping peacefully. How many people in this world would chop off their own arm to be able to say that about someone they love who’s dead and gone? It’s just the way of things.”

He said it as if they’d been friends for years.

Teresa came up behind Thomas, leaned in against his back.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Newt was just showing me his sister down there.”

“We better not push our luck tonight,” Alby said. “Let’s go get some shut-eye until the wake-up, then do this all over again tomorrow. What do you say?”

Everyone agreed. As they walked back, a somber silence hung over them, and the journey seemed much longer than before. Thomas had hoped they’d have time to compare what they did and didn’t know, but it looked like that was going to have to wait. Goodbyes were said and ways were parted.

Thomas made it back to his room without incident, said goodnight to Teresa—quickly, worried someone might appear in the hallway—then went inside and crashed on the bed without getting undressed. He fell asleep far faster than he would have imagined after all that had happened.

Throughout his shortened night, he dreamed of Newt and Sonya.

Of Newt and Lizzy.

—

The next few days and nights went by in a whirlwind of discovery and exhaustion; Thomas got less than three or four hours of sleep each night. The morning alarm was like a dagger in his skull, and his head never stopped aching throughout the long, long days of schooling. He waited for Dr. Paige or Dr. Leavitt or one of his teachers to comment on his nighttime escapades, or worse, an armed WICKED guard to whisk him away to a holding cell. But no one acted like anything was out of the ordinary.

On their second night of exploration, they discovered a huge laboratory with foul-smelling vats of steaming liquid, at least two dozen of them. Even in the deepest part of the night, workers in full hazard suits worked among the odd containers, doing all kinds of tests. A few times, Thomas and the others caught sight of what looked like large fish or tentacles moving beneath the steam, breaking the surface of whatever revolting liquid they swam in. The whole thing baffled even Newt, who said he’d been watching the place for months.

They searched the administrative offices on the third night, even catching a man and woman lingering behind after work hours for some lovey-dovey private time. Alby barely stopped Minho in time from jumping out and scaring the poor couple to death. Thomas almost wished he’d let it happen.

The fourth and fifth nights were filled with new adventures—more labs, the cafeterias, a giant sports facility that Thomas had never even heard about. They found a hospital room where complicated masklike devices hung over each bed, tubes and wires branching out like the legs of a monstrous spider, studded with all kinds of monitoring equipment. Thomas desperately wanted to stay longer and figure out what the things were for, but Alby got them out of there quick. It was the first time Thomas had really seen him flustered, beads of sweat covering his forehead. Something had struck a nerve.

It was fun. Exciting. Terrifying. Invigorating. In all the years since WICKED had taken Thomas, he’d never felt so alive. He could feel the bonds of trust growing between them, although he still had no idea where that trust was leading. It was as if the original purpose of their summons had been lost in a burgeoning friendship.

Alby, Minho, Newt, Teresa.

Thomas had friends.





224.10.20 | 12:15 a.m.

Newt had been promising them that he was saving something special, and he did that annoying zipped-lip sign every time Thomas or Teresa asked him what—pinched fingers swept across his tightly closed mouth. The little light in his eyes showed he enjoyed every second of their torture.

Regardless of where they were headed on any given night, they always assembled in the basement maintenance room. The dusty old room had become something of a sanctuary for their group. After their third escapade, Newt stopped coming to escort Thomas and Teresa there—they knew their own way—and the exhilaration of sneaking through the dark halls of WICKED only became more enjoyable every time Thomas did it.

He lightly tapped on Teresa’s door and she opened it immediately. She poked her head out cautiously and looked up and down the hallway to make sure the coast was clear.

“Okay,” she said the fourth night, as she joined him and closed her door. She couldn’t hide the smile blooming on her face. “What do you think it is tonight?” They started making their way.

Thomas did Newt’s zipped-lip gesture, and that got him a sharp poke in the ribs.

“Ow,” he said dryly, and they picked up the pace.

—

Minho and Alby were wrestling when they walked into the maintenance room. For a second Thomas thought it was a genuine fight, but then Alby let out a whooping laugh when he pulled a maneuver that flipped Minho onto his back with a grunt.

“Not this time, sucker!” Alby yelled. He pressed his forearm into Minho’s chest and Newt slapped the floor three times.

Alby jumped up, arms raised in a victory dance.

Minho scrambled to his feet as well, dusting himself off. He let loose a few words Thomas used to hear his dad say, then added a very insincere “Good job.” Alby seemed to take it all as a compliment. It meant he’d won.

“All right, then,” Newt said, stretching his arms over his head and letting out a yawn. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

“What’s the big surprise tonight?” Thomas asked. “Where’re we going?”

Newt looked up at the ceiling. “Well, we’ve pretty much been from one end of this place to the other.”

It was hard for Thomas not to look over at Teresa. The truth was, Newt and his friends had no idea what was hidden right under their feet. Trust or no trust, though, there was no way Thomas and Teresa could share the information about the maze cavern. He was just shocked that with all their exploring, the others hadn’t already discovered it on their own. And there were supposed to be two mazes. How had Newt and his friends not stumbled upon either one of them?

“Tommy?”

Thomas realized Newt was staring straight at him, eyebrows raised.

“Sorry,” he said, embarrassed. “Wandered off there for a second. What’d you say?”

Newt shook his head in admonishment. “Try to keep up, Tommy. Are you ready to see the great outdoors?”

—

They climbed up a ladder hidden behind a cinder-block wall, its original purpose mysterious to Thomas. The building had been built way before any organization named WICKED came into being, and the ladder had a sinister feel to it, as if it had been put there without the knowledge of the original planners or owners. Put there to accomplish devious deeds.

Thomas choked on dust as they climbed rung by rung, up and up and up. Somehow he’d gotten stuck going last, so he had four people above him kicking loose dirt and gravel and anything else that had collected over the years. A couple of nails even dropped down, one of them almost piercing his right eyeball.