The Maze Runner Series Complete Collection

by James Dashner

  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.

  Minho acted before Thomas could. He grabbed the woman by the shirt and yanked her toward him, then swung her across his body and slammed her into the wall. She got off a shot, but the silvery grenade shattered harmlessly on the ground and sent a short burst of crackling energy along the tiled floor.

  Brenda fired at the man, hitting him in the legs; tiny jagged bolts of electricity shot up his body and he screamed, falling back into the hallway. His weapon fell to the floor.

  Minho had disarmed the woman and forced her to kneel. He now held a Launcher aimed at her head.

  A fourth man came through the door, but Newt knocked his weapon away and punched him in the face. He collapsed to his knees, holding a hand up to his bloodied mouth. The guard looked up as if to say something, but Newt stepped back and shot him in the chest. At such close range the ball made a terrible popping sound as it exploded against the man. A wretched squeal escaped his throat as he fell to the floor, writhing in a web of pure electricity.

  “That beetle blade’s watchin’ every bloody thing we do,” Newt said. He nodded toward something at the back of the room. “We’ve got to get out of here—they’re just going to keep coming.”

  Thomas turned to see the little robotic lizard crouched in place, red light beaming. Then he looked back at the doorway, which was empty. He faced the woman. The muzzle end of Minho’s weapon hovered just inches from her head.

  “How many of you are there?” Thomas asked her. “Are there more coming?”

  She didn’t respond at first, but Minho leaned forward until his gun was actually touching her cheek.

  “There’re at least fifty on duty,” she said quickly.

  “Then where are they?” Minho asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t lie to me!” Minho shouted.

  “We … Something else is going on. I don’t know what. I swear.”

  Thomas looked at her closely and saw more than just fear in her expression. Was it frustration? She seemed to be telling the truth. “Something else? Like what?”

  She shook her head. “I just know that a group of us were called to a different section, that’s all.”

  “And you have no idea why?” Thomas threw as much doubt into his voice as possible. “I have a hard time believing that.”

  “I swear it.”

  Minho grabbed her by the back of the shirt and pulled her to her feet. “We’ll just take the nice la
dy here as a hostage, then. Let’s go.”

  Thomas stepped in front of him. “Brenda needs to lead—she knows the way around this place. Then me, then you and your new friend, then Newt in the rear.”

  Brenda hurried to stand beside Thomas. “I still don’t hear anybody, but we can’t have long. Come on.” She peeked into the hallway, then slipped out of the room.

  Thomas took a second to wipe his sweaty hands on his pants, then gripped the Launcher and followed her. She turned right. He heard the others fall in behind him; a quick glance showed that Minho’s captor was running along, too, looking none too happy with the threat of an electric bath just inches away.

  They reached the end of the initial hallway and made a right without stopping. Their new path looked exactly the same as the last, a beige alley stretching before them for at least fifty feet before it ended in a set of double doors. Somehow the scene made him think of that last stretch of the Maze right before the Cliff, when he, Teresa, and Chuck had run for the exit while everyone else battled the Grievers to keep them safe.

  As they neared the doors, Thomas pulled the Rat Man’s key card out of his pocket.

  Their hostage yelled to him. “I wouldn’t do that! I bet there’re twenty guns waiting to burn you alive on the other side.” But something about her tone sounded desperate. Could it be that WICKED had become overconfident and lax in their security? With only twenty or thirty teenagers left, surely they didn’t have more than one security person for each of their subjects—if even that many.

  Thomas and his friends had to find Jorge and the Berg, but they also had to find everyone else. He thought of Frypan and Teresa. He wasn’t going to leave them behind just because they’d chosen to get their memories back.

  He skidded to a stop in front of the doors and turned to face Minho and Newt. “We’ve only got four Launchers, and we better believe that there are more guards on the other side of those doors waiting for us. Are we up for this?”

  Minho stepped up to the key card panel, dragging the guard with him by the shirt. “You’re going to open this for us so we can focus on your buddies. Stand right there and don’t do anything until we say. Don’t mess with me.” He swiveled toward Thomas. “Start shooting as soon as the doors crack.”

  Thomas nodded. “I’ll crouch. Minho, you lean over my shoulder. Brenda to the left and Newt to the right.”

  Thomas got down and stuck the point of his weapon right where the doors met in the center. Minho hovered above him, doing the same. Newt and Brenda got in position.

  “Open on three,” Minho said. “And guard lady, you try anything or run away, I guarantee one of us will get you. Thomas, you count off.”

  The woman pulled out her key card but said nothing.

  “One,” Thomas began. “Two.”

  He paused, allowed himself a moment to suck in a breath, but before he could yell the last number an alarm started blaring and the lights went out.

  CHAPTER 14

  Thomas blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the darkness. The alarm rang in shrill, deafening bursts.

  He sensed Minho stand up, then heard him shuffling about. “The guard’s gone!” his friend shouted. “I can’t find her!”

  As soon as he said the last word, that sound of power charging filled the gaps between the whines of the alarm, followed by the pop of a grenade exploding against the ground. The bolts of electricity lit up the room; Thomas saw a shadowy figure running away from them back down the hall, gradually disappearing in the gloom.

  “My fault,” Minho muttered, barely audible.

  “Get back in position,” Thomas said, fearing what the alarm might mean. “Feel for the crack where the doors open. I’ll use the Rat Man’s key card. Be ready!”

  He felt around on the wall until he found the right place, then swiped the card; there was an audible click, and one of the doors began to swing inward.

  “Start shooting!” Minho shouted.

  Newt, Brenda and Minho began to launch grenades through the doorway into the darkness. Thomas carefully got into position and followed suit, shooting into the fray of dancing electricity that now crackled on the far side of the doors. It took a few seconds between rounds, but soon they had created a blinding display of light and explosions. There was no sign of people anywhere, no answering fire.

  Thomas let his gun drop to his side. “Stop!” he yelled. “Don’t waste any more ammunition!”

  Minho let one last grenade fly, but then they all stood and waited for some of the energy to die down so they could safely enter the room.

  Thomas turned to Brenda, speaking loudly to be heard over the noise. “We’re a little short on memories. Do you know anything that’ll help us? Where is everyone? Why the alarm?”

  She shook her head. “I have to be honest—something definitely feels off.”

  “I bet this is another one of their bloody tests!” Newt yelled. “All of this is meant to happen and we’re being analyzed all over again.”

  Thomas could barely hear himself think, and Newt wasn’t helping.

  He held his Launcher up and walked through the doorway. He wanted to get somewhere safer before the light from the grenade blasts disappeared entirely. From the shallow pool of his few returned memories, he knew he’d grown up in this place—he just wished he could remember the layout. He realized again how important Brenda was to their freedom. Jorge, too—if he was willing to fly them out of there.

  The alarm stopped.

  “What—” Thomas had started too loud, and quieted himself. “What now?”

  “They probably got sick of their ears bleeding from the noise,” Minho answered. “Just because they turned it off doesn’t mean anything.”

  The glow from the electric bolts had disappeared, but the room on this side of the doorway had emergency lights that cast everything in a red haze. They stood in a large reception area with couches and chairs and a couple of desks. Nobody was in sight.

  “I’ve never seen one person in these waiting rooms,” Thomas said, the space suddenly familiar. “The whole place is empty and creepy.”

  “It’s been a long time since they allowed visitors here, I’m sure,” Brenda responded.

  “What’s next, Tommy?” Newt asked. “We can’t just stand here all day.”

  Thomas thought for a second. They had to find their friends, but ensuring that they had a way out seemed the first priority.

  “Okay,” he said. “Brenda, we really need your help. We need to get to the hangar and find Jorge, get him prepping a Berg. Newt and Minho—you guys can stay with him for backup and Brenda and I will search the place for our friends. Brenda—do you know where we can stock up on weapons?”

  “Weapons depot’s on the way to the hangar,” Brenda said. “But it’s probably guarded.”

  “We’ve seen worse,” Minho offered. “We’ll start firing till they drop or we drop.”

  “We’ll cut through ’em all,” Newt added, almost with a growl. “Every last one of those buggers.”

  Brenda pointed down one of two hallways that branched off the reception room. “It’s that way.”

  Brenda led Thomas and his friends through turn after turn, the dull red emergency beacons lighting the way. They met no resistance, though every so often a beetle blade skittered by, click-clacking across the floor as it scurried along. Minho tried firing a shot at one of them, missing badly and almost scorching Newt, who yelped and wanted to fire back, judging by the look on his face.

  After a good fifteen minutes of jogging, they reached the weapons depot. Thomas stopped in the hallway, surprised to find the door swung wide open. From what he could see, the shelves inside seemed fully stocked.

  “That does it,” Minho said. “No more doubt.”

  Thomas knew exactly what he meant. He’d been through too much not to. “Someone’s setting us up,” he muttered.

  “Has to be,” Minho added. “Everyone suddenly disappears, doors are unlocked, weapons sitting here for us. And they’re
obviously observing us through those shuck beetle blades.”

  “Definitely fishy,” Brenda added.

  At her voice, Minho turned on her. “How do we know you’re not in on it?” he demanded.

  She answered in a weary voice. “All I can say is that I swear I’m not. I have no idea what’s happening.”

  Thomas hated to admit it, but what Newt had hinted at earlier—that this whole escape so far might be nothing but an orchestrated exercise—was looking more and more likely. They’d been reduced once again to mice, scuttling about in a different kind of maze. Thomas hoped so badly that it wasn’t true.

  Newt had already wandered into the weapons room. “Look at this,” he called.

  When Thomas entered the room Newt was pointing to a section of empty wall space and shelves. “Look at the dust patterns. It’s pretty obvious that a bunch of stuff was taken recently. Maybe even within the last hour or so.”

  Thomas inspected the area. The room was pretty dusty—enough to make you sneeze if you moved around too much—but the spots Newt pointed out were completely clean. He was dead on.

  “Why is that so important?” Minho asked from behind them.

  Newt turned on him. “Can’t you figure something out yourself for once, you bloody shank!”

  Minho winced. He looked more shocked than angry.

  “Whoa, Newt,” Thomas said. “Things suck, yeah, but slim it. What’s wrong?”

  “I’ll tell ya what’s bloody wrong. You go all tough-guy without a plan, leading us around like a bunch of chickens lookin’ for feed. And Minho can’t take a bloody step without askin’ which foot he should use.”

  Minho had finally recovered enough to get ticked. “Look, shuck-face. You’re the one acting like a genius because you figured out some guards took weapons from the weapons room. I thought I’d give you the benefit of the doubt, act like maybe you’d discovered something deeper than that. Next time I’ll pat you on the freaking back for stating the obvious.”

  Thomas looked back at Newt in time to see his friend’s expression change. He seemed stricken, almost teary.