The Fever Code (The Maze Runner 0.6)(69)

Not like I did. I was basically at ground zero. The infected were concentrated in one place and the virus hadn’t been diluted yet. We’re going back to that as it spreads. One day the whole world—every town and city—will be like it was in North Carolina. And then everyone will be dead.

Thomas stood up, wishing he could somehow escape this depressing talk. I get it, Teresa. I get it. We need to find a cure. You really think I haven’t heard this speech a thousand times?

He could tell she was frustrated with him. Tom, the speech isn’t empty. We have to find a cure, and we can’t look at things in the short term anymore. We’re talking about extinction. All that matters is the end result. How we get there…we just do it. Okay? Whatever it takes.

So we kill them? Thomas asked. That’s what you’re telling me? The four of us are going to walk around these buildings and just slaughter every last person who has the Flare?

Yes. That’s what we’re going to do.

Thomas tried to offer another solution. Can’t we just move them to the Crank pits?

Seriously? You think they want to be thrown into a cage with monsters? Tom, you’re not even thinking straight. A wave of frustration crashed through their connection, powerful enough to make Thomas wince.

So we kill them. It felt like letting go of some vital part of being human.

We make sure Dr. Paige can get these facilities under control, keep both mazes running. It’s not about killing anyone. It’s about saving.

Thomas sighed. I’ll do my best. What else was he going to do?

She came over to him, leaned in to whisper in his ear. “This is so important,” she said. “The most important thing in the world.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Because WICKED is good.”

—

A few minutes later, the door opened. Several uniformed guards came in, followed by Dr. Paige.

“Let’s get you prepped,” she said. “Time is running out.”





231.05.05 | 5:44 a.m.

Thomas’s backpack was heavy. He and his friends had full packs carrying everything they’d need. Two guns each, replacement cartridges for the Launchers they had strapped across their shoulders, and enough syringes to put down a zoo full of elephants. Better to have too much than not enough.

They ran through the hallways of the complex to their first target—Chancellor Anderson. A good man with whom Thomas had never had much of a problem. A good man who was now utterly insane. They had to take care of him first before heading down to Sector D.

They’d been running for a good five minutes when Aris halted and held a hand up. Teresa almost ran him over before she stopped.

“Did you hear that?” Aris whispered.

Thomas listened, trying to pick out something unusual over the hum of the ventilation system and the sound of their heavy breaths from running.

“Nope,” Thomas said, even as the others shook their heads.

“Just keep listening,” Aris responded, his gaze shifting to the ceiling, as if what he’d heard had come from above. “There.”

A low wail, like a child crying. Now that he heard it, Thomas couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before. High-pitched, sad, it echoed along the corridor, making it impossible to tell what direction it came from. Thomas imagined a child at the bottom of a well.

“Maybe it’s coming through the vents from Sector D,” Rachel suggested.

The pitiful noise ceased.

“Or it could be one of the kids,” Thomas said. “Dr. Paige has them all hiding somewhere.”

Teresa spoke up. “We need to get Anderson resolved before we can think about anything else. Let’s go.”

Aris had no objection. The four of them set off running again.

—

The door to Anderson’s office was closed, not locked. Teresa stepped forward and opened it. Thomas held his breath, half expecting the man to jump out at them like a zombie.

Nothing but quiet and dark. And a smell. A horrible smell.

Teresa nudged the door wider and stepped inside, Launcher held out in front of her, ready to fire. Aris went next, then Rachel, Thomas last. The blue glow of the workstation still shone—nothing had changed since they’d last been there. Except for the putrid stink of body odor and urine, even feces. The smell assaulted Thomas and he gagged, falling to one knee, as his throat closed. He tried to pull himself together.

You okay? Teresa asked in his mind.

Yeah. Is he in there? He nodded toward the back room.

Let’s go see.

But Aris had already moved to that door and lightly kicked it open. Another wave of wretched stink came wafting out of the darkness. Thomas got back to his feet and stood behind Aris and Teresa, staring inside, trying to make things out. Rachel was right next to him, holding her nose.

“Is he dead?” she asked.

“No,” came a rasp of a voice. Anderson. It barely sounded human. “No. Not dead. Not your lucky day.” He let out a series of wet, wracking coughs.

“Oh, man,” Thomas said. His stomach was not handling all this very well. “Get a light on in this place.”

“It might hurt his eyes.” This from Aris, who fingered the panel anyway. Lights blazed, as bright as noon.

Anderson screamed, clawing at his eyes. He writhed on the floor in front of the couch, which looked like he’d been lying on it for months. “Turn it off! Turn it off!”