The Fever Code (The Maze Runner 0.6)(22)

“So,” Thomas said, not sure where to begin, “how long have you guys been sneaking out like this? It’s obviously not the first time.”

“Nope,” Alby replied. “It gets so boring following all their rules, doing everything they tell us to. And yeah, they might know what we’re doing—we’re not idiots. But hey, until they actually come out and tell us to stop, we ain’t stopping.” He turned to Minho and Newt. “Am I right, guys?”

Minho whooped a cheer and Newt gave a bored thumbs-up.

“What are all these rumors about us that you guys keep bringing up?” Teresa asked. “And why are we isolated from you? It seems like you three have known each other for years. Thomas and I just met.” She looked at him, and something in her eyes said she’d almost mentioned the mazes but caught herself at the last second. That the mazes should be their secret for now.

Newt, sitting on a stool by the wall, answered her questions. “Honestly, we don’t know what’s different about you and those other two. The rest of us have been sharing a cafeteria, going to the same classes, and all that for over a year. Way I see it, you’re either way smarter or way dumber than us.”

“Way smarter, obviously,” Teresa said. Her sassy reply threw everyone off kilter for a beat, but then Alby clapped and laughed, and the ice broke just a little more.

“Man, I like you guys,” he said.

“Look,” Minho said, “as much as I’d like to say we’re just being nice inviting you down here, I’m guessing you know we have a reason.”

“Of course,” Teresa quickly answered.

Minho nodded, an appraising look in his eyes. “Good. Good. We have ideas. Plans. Nothing solid. Nothing too crazy. But information is king, and we feel like we’re in the dark not knowing you two. Though it’ll be a while before there’s complete trust. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough,” Thomas replied. “We’ll tell you what we know if you tell us what you know.”

Minho smiled. “Nice. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There’ll be plenty of other chances to talk. First we wanna just get to know you, maybe show you around a bit. Have some fun. The serious stuff can come in a few weeks or so. When we know you better. Sound good?”

Thomas and Teresa looked at each other and shrugged. They both turned back and said yes.

Newt hopped off his stool and went to the door. “Let’s get out of here before we get cabin fever,” he said. “I know a good place to start their tour—let’s go show them Group B.”





224.10.15 | 2:03 a.m.

Thomas had never heard the words Group B before, but they definitely piqued his interest. He also noticed a shadow cross over Newt’s face when he said it, and a look of discomfort pass over his friends Alby and Minho.

Something was weird about it, but that only intrigued Thomas even more.

Newt led their little group of five down the basement hallway until they came to a small, unmarked door that only came up to Thomas’s waist. It had a latch and padlock, but the lock had been broken long ago, its surface covered in orange rust—this area of WICKED was obviously off the beaten path. Newt bent down and opened the little door, then crawled through. Thomas gave Alby a questioning look, and Alby leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

“This is sort of like a ritual for us.” Teresa had come close so that she could hear, too. “Newt thinks up reasons to make it happen. See, they have his little sister over there, and when he says he wants to go see her…Well, we learned months ago that you better just go along with it or there’ll be hell to pay. You got me? Family, man. It’s something most of us don’t have anymore. Come on.”

The trip was a dusty one, involving ladders and grimy passages barely wider than Thomas’s hips. Minho said something about it being a secret escape route from years ago. No one really knew what the original purpose of the building had been before WICKED took over.

They finally reached their destination, a loft of sorts dotted with dirty windows overlooking a huge barracks full of bunks. And those bunks were full of sleeping kids. Thomas strained his eyes, looking up and down the rows. As far as he could tell—based on hair length and what he could see of the faces illuminated by the scant light—there wasn’t a single boy in the entire room.

Thomas didn’t know what to think. It was such a contrast to the private rooms in which he and Teresa slept.

“They call us Group A,” Alby explained. “And this is Group B. We’re all boys, they’re all girls. How Aris and Teresa here fit into all that, I don’t get. I mean, I guess it makes sense to separate us. Who knows.”

“So you guys live in a place like this?” Teresa asked.

Minho answered. “Yep. I think I could handle transferring to Group B, though. Someone remind me to put in a request.”

“Why are we…” Thomas trailed off. The question was obvious, and he suddenly had the absurd feeling that it’d come across as bragging if he asked it.

“Special?” Alby asked. “That’s what we hope to find out from you.”

“Looks like you know more than us,” Teresa said in an absent voice. Her mind was spinning, Thomas could tell. He wished he could take a peek inside her brain, see what churned there.