The New Horizon ~ A Maze Runner Story

- 22 -

Nurses, doctors, scientists--all dressed in that same pristine white clothing--swarmed around the main lobby like bees in a hive. Darting their way from the elevator banks to the several offices and labs, striding in every direction.
Doctor Owens' secretary, a pretty girl with a deep complexion and sternly attentive dark eyes, led Thomas to the cafeteria he requested. He knew Minho and his friends would be there waiting, and he had to talk with them about the news--anything detox his brain. There were never any secrets between him and his friends anyway.

"This is it," The secretary said pointedly. Thomas blinked. He hadn't been aware which direction he was walking; his ruminating thoughts were just too consuming. The entirety of the world depended on him. And that was a tough pill to swallow.

"Thank you." Thomas muttered, staring up at the cafeteria door they stood beside. It came out more brisk than he intended.
The secretary nodded, curt and polite, then strode off, and Thomas pushed open the cafe door.
The aromatic scent of coffee and cream wafted throughout the vast cafe, permeating his senses. Giant glass display cases, overfilled with pastries, lined the walls to Thomas's left. Bakers bustled behind them, pulling out dozens of pastries from the ovens, as if the overcrowded shelves weren't full enough. Cookies, cakes, cinnamon rolls, crescent rolls, danishes, muffins--Thomas had never seen so much food.

The smells filtered through his nose, traveling deep into the caverns of his stomach, rousing his appetite. His stomach growled aggressively and he had to hold a hand to his abdomen, willing the noisy grumbling to stop.
Thomas was just about to abort the mission for a muffin and some coffee when he snapped around at the sound of Minho's voice. "I already got you something, you hungry shank! Just get your butt over here."

As Minho had promised, he saved Thomas an oddly shaped scone that looked as if it had been half-eaten. But Thomas couldn't care less; his stomach was practically yowling at him now, so he hungrily munched on the delicious blueberry scone, leaving no evidence of its disappearance.
"Now that you've finished"--Minho waved a hand at the empty paper plate beside Thomas--"let's get to the real business."
Thomas nodded, clearing his throat of the minuscule pieces of scone that still lingered inside. He looked around at the half-filled, far-stretching sea of beige tables and chairs.

There was an even mix of girls and boys inside the cafe. All wearing the exact same outfits  Thomas and his friend were. He took the obvious guess that those young adults came from the outside world, went through the RBI surgery, and were now recuperating as Munies, in a barricaded world with mountains of food. Thomas wanted to talk with them, hear their insane stories of how they survived the Flare-eaten world. But Minho was right; he had 'real business' to talk about now.

Minho impatiently snapped his fingers and Brenda sighed, muttering something about Thomas's constant daydreams. He snapped out of his musing and forced himself to focus on the heaviness of Owens' plan.
"Well," Thomas began, placing his elbows on the table, "this doctor, Owens, told me that my blood has the ability to save the world, and she wants to drain me of almost all my blood to make a vaccine." It was short and sweet, and Thomas could tell that his blunt summary caught his friends off guard.

Brenda was the first to recover. She lifted a hand, her expression incredulous. "Wait--nearly all of your blood? Isn't that equivalent to killing you?"
Thomas shrugged. He felt as dubious as they did. "It's my only option . . . The RBI's are running slim, and once those are out, AFA will no longer exist--"
"And you're just going to let them do this to you?" That came from Minho.
Thomas was exasperated. "What else can I do? This was all predestined . . . I can't just turn it down."

Minho stayed silent. Brenda eyed him cautiously.
"How do you know it'll work?" Aris asked, and Thomas almost forgot the boy was there.
He could only shrug, unsure of the risks--unsure of anything. "Nothing's guaranteed, but AFA has a device that can regenerate red blood cells."
Minho laughed, but there was no humor behind it. "You have some serious balls, shank."
Thomas shifted in his seat. "Just think about everyone who's died because of the Flare; your family, my family--Newt." He quickly swallowed down the emotion. "Teresa, Chuck, Alby--the list goes on . . . I have to do this."