The Hunt for Dark Infinity

by James Dashner

  “Reginald needs us, Atticus. He needs someone very powerful to help him with his project. His Dark Infinity project. And the two of us were the only ones he deemed worthy enough for the test—you with your silly riddles and death-defying adventures, and me with the simple task of killing you. Only one winner. Only one apprentice for Chu.”

  Tick leaned back against the wall and looked at Jane, already breaking his vow. “How could he possibly think that killing me would be a challenge for you? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Jane smiled, her green eyes flickering with a dark flame. “Atticus. Boy. You have no idea what you’ve done these past days. What you’re capable of doing. Though I don’t yet understand it, I have no shame in admitting that you have more potential than even I do. And you’ve done it without the benefit of living in the Thirteenth and soaking in its quantum mutations.”

  Tick shook his head and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, resuming his study of the floor. “You don’t need to talk anymore—you’ve proven that you’re crazy ten times already.” From the corner of his eye, he noticed Jane’s hands quiver. She folded them together and paused a long time before speaking again.

  “I’m going to tell you a story, Atticus,” she said in a calm, quiet voice. “I want to tell you so you’ll understand me. I only ask that you listen without interrupting. Will you do that for me?”

  Tick didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t help feeling a surge of curiosity. He finally nodded.

  Mistress Jane began. “I’m a scientist, Atticus. I have been since my earliest memories, experimenting in the backyard and reading every book in the library on the laws of nature. I have lived it and breathed it, as they say. Twenty years ago

  I was recruited into the Realitants, in much the same way you were. It didn’t take long for me to master the wonders of quantum physics and excel in my assigned missions to study and document the Realities. By my third year, I was the most powerful of all the Realitants, and everyone knew it.”

  She paused, as if her pride wanted to ensure Tick realized what she’d said. That she was the best of the best.

  Tick didn’t move or say a word, and Jane finally continued.

  “But then something happened, Atticus. Something tragic that still wakes me in the night, haunting me with visions and memories. I fell in love.”

  Tick couldn’t help but look up at her. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but this surprised him.

  Jane nodded. “I won’t speak his name to you because your ears aren’t worthy to hear it. And please”—she held out a hand and lightly caressed his arm then pulled back—“I don’t mean that as an insult to you. It’s just that . . . his name is sacred to me, and I’ve sworn to never say it aloud. I hope you understand.”

  “I don’t care what his name was,” Tick mumbled under his breath.

  Jane’s hands shook again, and Tick winced. Shut up, Tick, he thought. Don’t say another word or she might twist your head off!

  “He loved the color yellow.” Jane laughed, a distant, surprisingly light-hearted chuckle that faded as quickly as it began. “It was strange how much he loved the color. Yellow shirts were his favorite; he painted the walls of his home yellow. And he always gave me daisies and daffodils. I asked him once why he loved it so much and he told me it was because yellow represented peace. And if anything described the life and purpose of that man, it was peace.”

  Tick rolled his eyes, quickly rubbing his face to hide it from Jane.

  “I loved him, Atticus. I loved him so much. It hurt me when I had to say good-bye to him and attend to my Realitant missions and assignments. It hurt me when he kissed me good night, whenever his hand let go of mine. That’s the only way I can truly describe how much he meant to me. I loved him so much, it hurt. I would have done anything to take away that pain, to be with him every second of every day. I loved him so much, I almost hated him.”

  A ball of sickness grew in Tick’s belly. He didn’t know why—and he certainly didn’t understand all this lovey-dovey stuff Jane was talking about—but something about it made him ill. Something about it was obsessive.

  “And then it happened,” Jane said. “The tragedy that would serve as the changing point of my life, the moment that defined my purpose from that day forward.”

  After a long pause, Tick asked, “What happened?” He couldn’t help it—he wanted to know.

  “He was murdered.” She screeched the word, a raw squeal from the back of her throat. “Killed by inhuman slugs who’d only wanted money. Killed by slime and filth, left in his own blood, suffering as it leaked out drop by drop. Slaughtered like an animal by animals, and there was nothing I could do to save him. He was taken from me, Atticus. The only person I’d ever truly loved, and he was taken from me.”

  Jane took a deep breath, then spoke rapidly as she stared into space, as if in a trance. “I couldn’t accept it, I just couldn’t. I knew too much about the possibilities, the endless possibilities of life and the universe. I went to each known Reality, sought out his Alterants. I took them, captured them, tried to love them, tried to train them to love me. But they weren’t him, they were different; they were disgusting and filthy and unworthy to bear his countenance. It taught me how disgusting and filthy and unworthy the Realities are—how wretched and wrong they are. It’s not built right, Atticus, it’s not made right. It’s wrong, it’s all wrong! We have to destroy it, fix it, rebuild it!”

  Tick scooted away from her. She didn’t seem to notice, barely pausing to breathe as she continued blurting out words.

  “I devoted my life to him, to his memory, to making things right in the universe. He’s out there, floating in the goop of quantum mechanics, waiting for me to find him and bring him back. But first I must remake the Realities, create the Utopia we all believe in. First I must make it right, make it right, make it right, make it right!”

  She stopped, her chest heaving as she sucked in air. “I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry.”

  Tick’s eyes were wide, his breath held somewhere inside his chest. He knew for certain he’d never seen someone completely wig out like Jane had just done. Not that he’d doubted it before, but she was now a certified nutso.

  Jane pulled at her black hair. “It’s why I cut it off, Atticus. I was ashamed of it. It’s black, and I know that he always wished it had been blonde, to match his beloved color. Yellow. Dear, dear yellow . . .” She rubbed the dark strands between her fingers. “But not anymore. I’ve changed. I will change more. The goal is the same, but I’ve changed how—”

  “What is this nonsense!”

  Tick jumped so hard at the sudden, booming voice that he fell off the bench, his rear end slamming onto the floor. Even Jane sucked in a quick breath as Tick scrambled to his feet, his eyes darting directly to the source of the shout.

  An Asian man with black hair stood in the middle of the room, dressed in a dark suit. A man Tick had always considered one of his best friends in the world, teacher or not. But even as he thought it, Tick knew this wasn’t his Mr. Chu. This wasn’t the kind, funny, humble science instructor of Jackson Middle School in Deer Park, Washington.

  No, it was Reginald Chu. The evil Reginald Chu.

  Chapter

  37

  ~

  Tick’s Dark Secret

  Tick backed against the wall, feeling the edge of the bench cut into the backs of his knees. Though Mistress Jane had obviously been as surprised by Chu’s appearance as Tick, she’d recovered, sitting calmly and expressionless as she stared at their visitor.

  Chu walked forward, his forehead wrinkled and eyes narrowed in anger, his pace brisk. He stopped ten feet in front of them, his eyes never leaving Jane.

  “What is this?” he asked, scrunching up his face like he’d just spotted a rotting body. “I’m trying to find the one person in the Realities worthy enough to help me in the greatest scientific achievement of all time—and you two sit here chitchatting like old friends. All that’s
missing are the cups of tea.”

  “What did you expect us to do?” Jane asked, her voice calm. “There’s not much here to keep us entertained. I guess we could’ve wrestled or played freeze tag.” She nudged Tick with an elbow.

  Chu folded his hands behind his back, smoothing the anger out of his face. “Mistress Jane, I don’t care what powers you may think you have, but you’ll be dead in an instant if I so wish it. Do you understand?”

  Tick expected her to get defensive, but she merely nodded.

  “I’m very disappointed to see both of you sitting here,” Chu continued. “I’d expected at least one of you to have the vicious instinct of survival within you, the willingness to win my contest no matter the cost. Only one can win. Only one will win. One, or none—I can always scratch the two of you and start all over.”

  Tick couldn’t take his eyes off Chu. It was unsettling how he looked exactly like his teacher back in Deer Park. And to see this mean, nasty personality stuffed inside the image of one of his favorite people in the world was very disturbing.

  “Isn’t it an even greater accomplishment that we both made it?” Jane asked. “That such bitter enemies could reconcile enough to work together for a common cause?”

  “All I see is cowardice,” Chu replied, wrinkling up his nose as if such a notion disgusted him more than anything else. “If you don’t have the strength, will, or ability to kill this young man, then I certainly don’t want you by my side.” He shifted his gaze to Tick. “And you—don’t think you’ve accomplished anything great. Much tougher tests lie ahead.”

  Chu paused, looking back and forth between Tick and Jane. “Still . . . I need an apprentice, and my patience has run out. Like I said, one or none. You’ll both come with me and settle the matter.”

  Tick finally found the voice that had been locked in a trap of panic inside him. “What do you mean? What are you going to do to us?”

  Chu laughed, the humorless laugh of a man who just found out he has mere days to live. “I’m not going to do anything to you. You’ll do it to each other.”

  “But what—” Tick stopped when Chu held up a hand.

  “Don’t say another word. You will follow me, both of you. And don’t be stupid—I have more weapons hidden in this place than you could count in a week’s time. Try anything against me, and you will die. If my sensors detect any spikes in Chi’karda levels within you, you will die. At least until we get to the chamber. Tonight, you’ll sleep. I want you well-rested for the morning. Come.”

  He turned and walked toward the opposite side of the room, though there was no sign of a door. “Now!” he shouted.

  Mistress Jane stood up and motioned for Tick to come with her after Chu. Heart thumping, Tick fell in line beside her. His head swam with confusion. Both of these people were supposed to be his enemy!

  He and Jane stayed twenty feet behind Chu, walking just fast enough to keep the distance consistent. Chu didn’t slow when he came within a few paces of the curved wall, and just before he walked right into it, everything went pitch-black for a full three seconds. Tick almost stopped, but Jane grabbed his hand, pulling him along before letting him go.

  Lights flickered above them, then ahead of them, flashing as if gaining power before finally shining at full strength. They strode down a long hallway with a carpeted floor of brown-and-black diamonds, the white walls lined with pictures of various instruments and odd scientific experiments— beakers and wires and microscopes and animals in small cages. It gave Tick the creeps.

  He looked back and the hallway stretched just as far in that direction as it did before them, as if they’d never been inside the large, round room made of illuminated white material. It surprised him when he realized he wasn’t surprised. He wondered if anything would seem crazy or magical to him ever again.

  Jane reached over and grabbed his wrist. “Listen to me,” she whispered.

  Tick didn’t want to trust her, but he nodded anyway, as slightly as he could in case they were being watched.

  “When the time is right,” she said, speaking so softly Tick had to strain his ears, “we’ll strike. You and I together. Remember—no matter what you think of me, right here, right now, we have to stop him, or Dark Infinity will make every last Reality an insane asylum.”

  “Strike?” Tick whispered back. “What do you expect from me? I don’t know what you guys think I can do, but I don’t have any powers and I can barely lift fifty pounds.”

  Jane shook her head in anger. “Grow up, Atticus. Are you really that dense? Even I’ve noticed the things you’ve done the last couple of weeks.”

  Tick looked over at her. “What are you talking about?” He winced; his voice was way too loud.

  “Just stay close. Trust me—your abilities will come out. And when they do, I’ll channel them against Chu.”

  Tick almost stumbled. The floor seemed to bounce with ripples as he felt his head swim. “I don’t get what you’re—”

  Jane held a finger to her lips and picked up the pace. The hallway stretched to infinity before them.

  Tick kept walking.

  ~

  For the first time in a long time, Paul felt like he might not die of pain after all. Doctor Hillenstat, a wiry old man with a droopy mustache and enormous teeth from the Second Reality, had barely said a word after Rutger had winked him in to work on Paul’s arm. Paul had been grateful for the silence, because he’d been in no mood to talk.

  The pain worsened before it got better, but once the medicine kicked in and the bone settled in the thin white cast, life became bliss. Despite everything—the near-death experiences and the disappearance of his good friend Tick—Paul felt on top of the world after having suffered for so long.

  Now, still lying on the soft bed in the infirmary, he decided he better pay attention to the frantic discussions going on between the people sitting in chairs around him—Master George, Rutger, Mothball, Sally, Sofia, and Doctor Hillenstat, who’d insisted on staying around until he was sure Paul was on the mend.

  “All right, Sofia,” Master George said after shushing everyone from talking over each other. “The matter of greatest concern at the moment is this: the odd melding of materials you saw on several occasions these past weeks. I want you to take a minute now, think about it very hard, picture it in your mind exactly as it was, and tell us every detail. Can you do that for us?”

  Sofia rolled her eyes. “How many times . . .” She didn’t finish, Master George having given her his gentlemanly stare of death, eyebrows raised. “Fine, okay.”

  “Splendid,” Master George whispered, rubbing his hands together as he leaned forward in his chair.

  Sofia took a second before running through it all again. “The first time it happened was back at Tick’s hometown. We were in the woods, and we met that psycho teacher of his, Mr. Chu. He strapped the things on our arms—”

  Master George interrupted her. “I’m certain that was Reginald Chu from the Fourth, not Tick’s science instructor. And the thing he put around your arm was a highly illegal device called a nanohijacker. If we ever catch Chu, he’ll be punished severely and spend the rest of his days in a Realitant prison.” His face reddened. “So sorry, please continue.”

  “The . . . nanohijacker hurt worse than anything I’ve felt in my entire life,” Sofia said, her face grimacing at the memory. “We heard loud crashing sounds in the woods, and Chu told us something was coming to get us. Well, the pain made us all pass out and when we woke up, dozens of trees had been smashed together—almost like they’d melted. We even saw a couple of deer in the mess.”

  “Hope it wasn’t the wee one I saw last year,” Mothball said. “Sprightly little thing, it was.”

  Sofia gave her a confused look then continued. “In the weird underground place, a bunch of robot things called metaspides attacked us, but they all got melded together, too. There was a big tornado and they turned into one big heap of junk.”

  “That was the Industrial Barrens in the
Seventh Reality,” Master George said. “Miserable place. And those metaspides are Chu’s security force. I didn’t know he’d sent them to the Seventh. We’ve had trouble with those buggers before. Go on.”

  “It happened two more times,” Sofia said. “In the desert, a huge beast catapulted through the tunnel right before it was going to kill us—and got trapped in a big chunk of melted glass. I think some of the glass might have been created from the super-heated sand. The last time was when we were running from the glowing . . . monkeys near Circle City and a bunch of trees smashed together again, killing a few of the animals. It looked just like it had back in Deer Park—like the wood had liquefied and twisted together, then solidified into one massive structure. Like it was something from a nightmare.”

  Sofia stopped and looked at the floor.

  Master George patted her arm and leaned back in his chair. “Thank you, my dear. Yes, yes, I’m quite certain my suspicions are correct. Quite certain, indeed. I fear our problems are much deeper than we thought. Oh, goodness gracious me.”

  “What?” Paul said, his joy and relief from the vanished pain fading at the haunted look that crossed Master George’s face. “How could it possibly be worse? What are you talking about?”

  “It’s Tick,” Rutger grumbled. “It’s Tick.”

  Sofia’s head shot up. “What do you mean, it’s Tick?”

  Master George stood, any sign of the jolly old English gentleman gone, his face set in a stony expression of concern.

  “Master Atticus is out of control,” he said. “He’s obviously not even aware of the power that’s bursting from him. Tick’s inexplicable abilities over the Chi’karda are completely and absolutely out of control. It appears he’s manipulating matter on the quantum level—destroying it, reshaping it, restructuring it. It seems to be triggered when he is frightened or angry. I cannot stress enough the danger of such a thing.”