little immune {the scorch trials} (request)

˜"*°• 8 •°*"˜

Late night had fallen at the compound, leaving the dorm room nearly pitch black aside from a fluorescent light shining above a sink in the bathroom. Every body in the room was asleep, minus Thomas.

He had tried. But the thoughts and worries and memories prevented him from doing so. He was terrified out of his mind, though he'd never admit that to anyone, not even Newt. The Gladers needed him to be strong, to be a leader. But he was losing hope. And he kept thinking about what Y/n said in the cafeteria: But Tommy, this is WICKED. We're not safe here. No one is. 

For a moment, he'd actually let himself think she was wrong. That she was just a child and couldn't possibly know what she was talking about. But then he realized that she probably knew more about this place than anyone. After all, they found her here, not knowing anything about where she came from or what she was doing. Thomas wanted to ask her, but he could also tell she didn't like talking about her past. Maybe once she got more comfortable with him and the rest of the Gladers she'd start to open up. But something told Thomas that they were running out of time quicker than an hourglass could run out of sand.

The pressure was too much for him to stand. Tears welled up in his eyes. One even slipped down his cheek.

Suddenly, a strange rattling sound from below his bed tore Thomas from his somber mood. He sat up onto his elbow as the sound grew louder, appearing to be like creaking metal. He was about to try and wake up Newt for help when someone said, "Psst!"

Thomas glanced around, trying to find the source of the voice. Then it spoke again.

"Hey," the person whispered. "Down here."

Thomas moved to the edge of the bed, looking beneath it to find a slim boy with dark circles around his eyes lying on his stomach, apparently just having come out of the vent. It was the boy from the cafeteria, the one who had supposedly been in the maze of only girls.

"Oh, my God—" Thomas gasped.

The boy put a finger to his lips. "Shh. Come on. Follow me." He squirmed back out into the vent, leaving Thomas no choice but to follow.

***

Thomas didn't like the vents one bit. Being cooped up there sort of reminded him of being stuck out in the Maze, only it was a much smaller space and there were no monsters chasing after them. At least, not that they knew of.

The strange boy was a couple metres ahead, occasionally needing to stop and wait for Thomas when he fell behind. "Hurry, this way. Come on."

They crawled for a long time until the boy stopped them at an opening in the vent. "What are we doing?" Thomas hissed.

The boy shushed him. "Come here."

Thomas crawled over to join him, looking down at a WICKED hallway below them. "Watch," said the boy. Thomas sighed and stayed quiet.

A moment later, the same doctor who'd been with Teresa earlier strutted down the hall, occasionally glancing at her surroundings to make sure no one was watching. She stopped at a door and waited for a moment. Soon enough, someone else joined, wheeling what looked like some type of high-tech stretcher carrying a body. The doctor scanned her key card on the door to open it, and then the other person wheeled the stretcher inside. Soon enough, a couple more people with stretchers started to follow until they were done and the door slid shut again. 

Thomas watched in horror. "What the hell was that?"

"They bring in new ones every night like clockwork," the boy replied.

"You know what they do with them?" Thomas asked.

The boy shook his head. "I don't know. This is as far as I've ever gotten. The vents don't even go into that section. But once they go through that door, they don't come back out." He looked down grimly. "I don't think anybody ever really leaves this place."