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25

Thomas 

Thomas sat at the control desk, his hands quivering slightly. The piece of paper was lying on the keypad, slightly ripped at the edges. He had tried his best to smooth it out, so he could read the numbers he had hastily scribbled down more clearly, but he still had to squint in order to make them out. 

'Is that a 5 or a 2?' he muttered under his breath, bringing the paper closer to his face. It didn't help that he was running on very little sleep, and the control room was dark. He had gone after he was sure Teresa had gone to sleep, because he knew she wouldn't be happy with what he was doing. He also wanted to be there, to see if Newt was safe. He barely slept with anxiety. 

In the end, though, Newt, Alby and Minho had made it out, and had collapsed at the feet of the other boys soon after the doors had opened, with barely a scratch. He was grateful for Teresa then, for her persistence in trying to stop WCKD from sending any more grievers to where the boys were. This made Thomas feel guilty. He had a list of all the co-ordinates of all the WCKD compounds open on his screen, and had the intention of sharing all of them with Mary; the woman who's details he had grabbed from Janson's office a day before.

She had lost her job only weeks before, trying to gather the information herself, but was caught. Thankfully, her information had yet to be wiped from the database. Thomas expected this was because Janson was able to track her if she happened to register at another WCKD compound, but Thomas was sure she wasn't dumb enough to do that. 

His hand hovered over the final number. 

What if she wasn't awake? What if the call was bugged and intercepted? He was scared of what would happen. Not so much to himself, but to Mary. He already had enough guilt pressing on his shoulders, he didn't need to be responsible for anything else. But he had to do it. 

He pressed the final number, and placed his headphones on his ears. He heard a beep, one that was unfamiliar to the usual sound he heard when a call was picked up. He waited anxiously. 

"Thomas. This line isn't safe, we don't have much time. Tell me everything you can" A voice said. He knew it was Mary. 

Thomas took a deep breath and spoke rapidly, pausing between co-ordinates, waiting for her to show she had got them down. He was engrossed and focused on giving the numbers, that he didn't hear the door click open behind him. He had reached the set of co-ordinates 3rd from the end, when a heavy hand was placed on his shoulder. 

"Are you sure about what you're doing, Thomas?" A raspy male voice said. Janson. 

As quickly as he could, he hung up the connection with Mary and slipped the piece of paper into the pocket of his jeans. 

"Yes, I am" he said, turning his chair to face Janson, who looked more angry than Thomas had ever seen him. "Haven't you heard, Janson? It's for the greater good"

Janson sighed deeply. "Your time here is over, Thomas. You have no idea what you've done"

His time here? What did that mean? If the state of the world was as bad as they made out, surely they couldn't send Thomas out into the world, just like that. 

"What, you're gonna send me out so I can get sick, and if I don't get sick, I'll burn to death? Sounds like a plan, Janson. You've always been good at them" Thomas said, trying to use humour to disguise how uncomfortable he was feeling. 

"No no no, Thomas. You misunderstand me. You're not going out into the Scorch, you're going down there" Janson said, with a smirk that made Thomas squirm. Janson raised a pointed finger towards the screen in front of Thomas, the one that showed a birds eye view of the Glade.