The New Horizon ~ A Maze Runner Story

- 51 -

Minho had snuck himself over to Thomas's apartment--amazingly without the press following him inside. May made breakfast, they all talked, catching up on the insanity of the vaccine and the media's resilience. It was a great comfort to have Minho there, offering his sarcastic jokes all throughout the visit, cheering Thomas up exponentially. They watched the news together, which still showed several clips of Thomas, and of course, his broadcast--which seemed like it would forever haunt him. Just one constant flurry of replays, over and over again. News anchors interviewed eye-witnesses, politicians offered up dry jokes. Minho changed the channel after a few minutes.

By the time the next day had come, shining through the curtains of his apartment, Thomas had made his mind up. He had to face the world, he had to get out. Most importantly, he needed to go back to AFA. There was no longer any reason to keep his head buried under the sand.
He showered--with May--savoring the wet, steamy bliss between them. A newfound world of possibilities, of whimpers and wants, of fantasies and thrills. Every day with May was pure titillation; something new to explore, to touch. Love, was it not the most powerful thing he'd ever felt? Yes, it was.

Thomas quickly dressed, physically and mentally rejuvenated after May's touch. He munched down a hand-full of dry cereal while walking to the elevator. He was bombarded by paparazzi the very moment he reached the apartment lobby. Ignoring the anxiety that willed to fester inside of him, he caught a taxi, full of relief as he sat inside the quiet cab.
Thomas was amazed at the hundreds of protesters standing at AFA's dividing wall in the City. They were peaceful, holding signs that were mostly positive: Vaccinate Them!, AFA Will Save, Hold Out Hope For Thomas, and on. Only a few belittled AFA, complaining about the wait for the vaccine. Thomas felt a tiny amount of gratitude.

The press was maddening, trying to squeeze their way past the security guards that blocked off the public from the inside AFA. Thomas got through in a pinch before news anchors could interview him. Within minutes he was on AFA's property. The wall, which had been impossibly breached, was already reconstructed and looked impeccably brand new. Thomas was amazed. The grass that had caught on fire was still scorched and patchy. Thomas shivered in remembrance of that terror just days ago. He could still see the smoke--smell it, thick and hot. That crazy man, he could see him all too well. Those eyes . . . He'd seen those eyes in too many people. Before Thomas became too caught up in his memories, he made straight for the main building.

***

Doctor Owens welcomed Thomas in happily, enthused that he had been back so quickly. There was a vaccine meeting scheduled and Thomas eagerly joined. He was glad--despite recent events--to be back.
"Over eleven-hundred reporters and journalists have been in constant contact with AFA during these past two days. We've done a brilliant job in communication," Owens said, flipping through her notes. "But, I don't want anyone to become blindsided--we still need to fight just as fervently as ever. The government isn't in agreement with us, but they understand the direness of producing this vaccine. So, they are letting AFA distribute them anyway."
Thomas felt a rush of reassurance wash over his mind and soul. He clapped, along with everyone else. The government was finally--only if by default--on their side. That was good news.

Doctor Owens continued after sharing her satisfaction, "To comply with the government's recommendation, we will continue to test our vaccinations on the infected until the official dosages are available in around one month or less."
Doctors nodded, jotting down the news on their notepads. A couple scientists asked questions. Thomas sat there silently, absorbing everything.
"We have five willing patients ready for the test vaccine right now," Owens said, breaking Thomas out of his pondering. A few doctors and scientists from around the table stood up in sync with Doctor Owens. She looked to Thomas, nodding as if she read his mind; he was invited. He stood up too, following the six of them as they made their way out of the conference room.

Thomas and the group of five others went straight for the dormitory room, the same small one that he and his friends had been led to on the first day they'd made it to AFA. In those same hard, white chairs sat five of the vaccine recipients. Two men and three women, all varying ages. But one of the men stood out instantly. Thomas swallowed hard, his fight or flight reflexes taking over. There, in between two of the females, was the crazed man. That lunatic Crank that had almost killed Thomas. He had recognized his long blonde hair, his tan, sunburnt face, his muscular arms. The eeriest part was, he now looked normal; his eyes were no longer full of malice and sadist hunger.

In fact all of the five people looked normal, despite the fact that they were all infected, all capable of becoming man-eaters like every other Crank out there. Doctor Owens must have sensed the tangible fear escaping Thomas as he stood there, frozen in place, eyes scanning over the five people.
"Don't worry, Thomas. They are all sedated. No one will harm you."
Thomas stared into their eyes, observing how they were slightly dazed. He exhaled, hoping no one could see how relieved he was. To his left, two scientists were already handing the doctors the vaccines so delicately it was as if the syringes were ancient gemstones.

The doctors all tapped the syringe in sync, expelling a droplet of the amber liquid. Then, without any last words, they stuck the needles into the neck of every patient. Thomas winced, half-disturbed, half-amazed. That was it, inside those syringes was the cure. The one and only cure to this forsaken world. He stung with the desire to have his friends there, witnessing it with him.
When the vaccination was over, a couple of the women began to cry. One man felt at his neck, now covered with a circular bandage, thanking the doctors. They were so relieved, even without an official guarantee of the vaccine's effectiveness, they were incredibly grateful. It was moving.
"We have full faith that this will cure you," Owens addressed the patients.

"Can I talk to him?"
Thomas recognized that voice. It was full of hatred only a couple days ago. The crazed man--once-crazed man. Owens turned to Thomas, raising her eyebrows in question. Thomas nodded, stepping forward, feeling as the guards in each corner of the room prepared themselves for any altercations. Thomas swallowed hard, daring himself to stare directly into the man's eyes. He was only an arm's length away from the man in the chair.
"Thank you." It was all the man said, but it surprisingly warmed Thomas.
"Of course," he swallowed, his voice cracking mildly.

"No," The man said, adamant, grabbing hold of Thomas's arm. Thomas flinched, his body going into flight mode. A tranquilizer gun cocked. The man ignored everyone and continued on, shaking his head. "I really mean it. I didn't mean to have hurt you."
"I know, you weren't yourself. It's okay," Thomas replied, his heart thumping.
The man lessened his grip, then shrugged. "At least you were honest with your promise. Name's Aaron."
Thomas almost wanted to laugh, shaking the hand of the man who nearly killed him. It was hard to believe, but that was the world now. "Well, I never make promises I can't keep."
The man--Aaron--chuckled something husky and deep. "Good thing."

Thomas stepped away, overcome with relief for what felt like the fiftieth time that day. He straightened up, looking at the other four patients who had just received the cure.
"I promise that you will all be healed. You, and the whole world."