The New Horizon ~ A Maze Runner Story

- 10 -

Thomas's breath caught in his throat. His chest tightened at the thought. It's WICKED. No one else knows my name.
"What the shuck," Minho was already walking backwards. "How in the hell do they know your name?"
Thomas could barely conjure the words. "You think I know?" The hope began to drain from his body like helium leaking from a balloon. This was all a setup. They had to flee. "We need to leave. Now." He yelled it, suddenly not caring if WICKED on the other side heard him. It was now or never.

But before they were able to muster the stamina to sprint away, the booming sound of metal grinding on metal resonated from the hatch door. It slid open swiftly, as if it was weightless, not made of iron. Thomas's anxiety reached its peak at the sight of what was emerging from out of the hatch door: guards. Menacing, suited in all black. Streamlined guns attached to the right side of their uniform. Four men and one woman. And once they stepped over the threshold of the door, they sprinted out, heading straight on for Thomas and his friends.

Thomas immediately acted, and his peripheral vision confirmed his friends were doing the same--sprinting with all their energy, with everything left inside, to flee from those guards. WICKED's guards.
Thomas heard the guards behind him, charging out like a stampede of brawny bulls. And they were gaining purchase. Thomas pumped his legs, told himself how fast he ran was a matter of life or death, but his muscles were nearing their end, and his heart had endured so much cardio in such little time. He knew they wouldn't make it. Especially not back down that mountain--running down the ragged slopes was suicide. Death presented itself in two forms: being tortured by WICKED, or falling off a mountain. He couldn't decide which was worse.

Those thoughts had no significance though, because before Thomas even registered it, he was being yanked backwards, snatched by someone with incredibly powerful hands that dug into his arm like manacles. He was caught. It was game over.
"Stay still!" The guard yelled, pinning down Thomas's arms. His voice was like a clap of thunder.
Defeat permeated every last part of Thomas's being. He was crushed. Mortified even; how could he have been so stupid to think WICKED would ever leave them alone?

He scoped out the unfolding warfare before him. Minho was being tackled, cursing and thrashing like a crazed dog. Brenda and Aris were yanked into the same position that Thomas was. Standing there somberly. Expressions blank. Frustrated. Let down.
Finally Minho was yanked into a standing position, arms twisted behind his back. "I'm not going back there! Shoot me, kill me now. I don't care. I'm not going back to WICKED!" He yelled in a fit of rage, veins bulging from his neck. 
"Let's move it in," Thomas's guard said, gesturing towards the door. He forcefully pushed at Thomas's back. Pain erupted from his tailbone wound. "Start walking."

Thomas watched, motionless, as the female guard stood at the hatch door, motioning for him to follow. But Thomas hesitated. The prominent fear was paralyzing him. His entire body had gone slack.
"I said start walking." Thomas's guard barked once more. Thomas clenched his jaw, feeling pathetic for trembling at the booming voice that came from behind. Unwillingly, Thomas started walking. He had no choice. Acceptance had replaced the aggravation. He knew the truth. They'd kill him. Maybe Rat Man's death was just staged--maybe Thomas would see that weasel of a man again before he died. Maybe he'd even see Chancellor Paige. Maybe she would kill him if Rat Man didn't first. Or someone completely new, but either way, he was certain WICKED would kill him. They'd kill them all.

He walked through the door, feeling icy shivers race down his spine as he entered into the iron-encircled world.
"Shut the Back Hatch door." Thomas heard the female guard order. He realized his friends had made it in too. He even heard Minho still thrashing about. They were officially entrapped.
But at the sight inside the wall, Thomas's mind swam with a newfound confusion; inside the barricade of iron, laid an expansive property of land. A massive building, easily fifty stories tall--or more--jutted out in the middle of the property, like one gigantic tooth. Curiosity raged inside Thomas, replacing the madness he felt just moments earlier.

"In here," The female guard instructed as she led Thomas and his captive-friends to a small dormitory that extended from the side of the massive building. Thomas watched as she placed a hand over a scanning sensor and the white door slid apart before he could blink. He followed her direction and walked inside the solitary room.
Bland, white walls encased them. Four evenly spaced out white chairs--that nearly blended with the walls and floor--ominously welcomed their visitors. Thomas shivered; the uncanny coincidence of there being exactly four seats for him and his friends. It had to have been purposely intended.

"Sit down and don't any of you dare to get up," Minho's guard said, forcing Minho down into the seat, his fists tight with anger. Thomas was forced into his own. Brenda was to his left, her eyes burning with defiance. Aris sat beside her, slumped.
Thomas's guard stepped forward, eyeing all four of them as he crossed his burly arms. "You are not in danger. We are not WICKED. We will explain where you are, and why you are here, if you give us a moment."