The New Horizon ~ A Maze Runner Story

- 23 -

Thomas was completely silent throughout the walk back to their room, his mind entrapped, unable to deviate his thoughts from the cure. He continued to stay silent as he sat outside on the balcony, slouched in a metal chair that was bearable thanks to the cushions. His friends sucked their teeth and joked around about his constant state of thinking, and Thomas wished he could joke, too. All he wanted more than anything was to shut his mind off. Stop thinking. Stop wondering. Though the task seemed simple, there was nothing harder in the entire universe. Physically, he could take a break. But mentally, he never could take a break. It was as if there was a switch in his brain that was permanently flipped to critical-brainstorming.

Thomas continued on his pensive route of thoughts as the breeziness of the beautiful British Columbia weather swirled past him. He was engaged in a life-threatening task, which would be an impossible burden to turn down. Thomas wanted the cure with everything inside of him--he ached for it immensely. Being constantly reminded of the Flare from his loss of his friends, his parents, everyone he had ever loved--emotionally, it was cumbersome baggage locked up inside, tauntingly poking and prodding at him like the IV's that Nurse O'Brien lodged into his skin. Bottom line, it hurt, and it left scars. More prominent ones than he would've liked to admit.

And if Thomas didn't comply with giving his blood, the scarring would only continue, ruthlessly poking at his soul, tirelessly prodding at his heart. Something suddenly pounded within Thomas. Assuredly, he knew what he had to do, he felt it pulsing inside his heart. He would agree, he would give his blood, and he would cure the world. Thomas would do it for Newt, Teresa, Chuck. And he would do whatever could be done to demolish the Flare, strike it to the ground. Thomas bolted up from that semi-bearable chair and leapt back inside the room. Minho was sprawled out on the sofa, like usual, eating leftover fries. Brenda lifted her head from a magazine she was reading, curious by Thomas's sudden vitality. "Hey, what're you up to?"

Thomas could feel a smile build onto his face as he looked at Brenda. "Saving the world."
"Huh?"
Thomas was already slipping on his sneakers. "I gotta go, I'll be back."
He quickly sprinted over to the front door, feeling the euphoria of eagerness build up inside him. Utterly and completely unaware of what anyone thought--in fact, he couldn't have cared less. Tunnel vision blocked out everything and everyone else. Thomas reached for the door knob just as Minho poked at his back. "Stop running like you're being chased by a shucking Griever. I thought you wanted to think a little more about this."

Thomas rolled his eyes. Minho had struck a memory of those nasty creatures that he didn't ever want to remember. "I don't need any more time, I've made up my mind."
Minho's expression was dry, but something in his eyes displayed concern for his friend. "Thomas, you better have thought long and hard about this. You know there's no going back."
Thomas was already swinging the door open, eagerness bubbling inside of him, making him jitter. He managed to turn back to Minho, softening his eyes. "I know what I'm doing. Trust me on this, okay?"
Minho cracked a small, unfazed smile, as if he had always expected that answer from Thomas. "Okay, shank. Go save this shucked world."

It wasn't too long of a trip to Doctor Owens office once Thomas had taken the elevator and politely asked the receptionist if he could speak with her. He followed the man to Doctor Owens' office, standing at his heels. "Thomas is here to speak with you, Doctor."
"Oh, send him in." A tone of surprise laced her monotonously professional voice, though muffled by the door. He stepped through the threshold.
"Thomas," Owens smiled welcomingly, "what are you here to talk about? Is it regarding the--"

Thomas nodded, intuitively understanding what she would have said. "It is."
Owens smiled even wider, laying her hands on top of her desk. "You've made your mind up fairly quick."
Thomas nodded. "I've been gifted with a rare immunity. Not sharing that with the world would be . . . ridiculous. If it means saving thousands--millions--of lives, then who in their right mind would turn that down?"

Owens nodded contently, captivated by Thomas's compelling words. She slipped out a notepad covered with neat, organized writing. Drawing in a deep inhalation, she focused her eyes directly on Thomas without looking back at her notes. "We must also talk about one major con."
Thomas felt his intertwined hands involuntarily clamp down on each other. "Con?"
"Yes, the vaccines won't be available for one month . . . Sadly, there is no way I can alter the speed of it. The sooner we get the blood, the better."
Thomas was leaning forward in his seat. Nerves ablaze. "When, then?"

Another inhalation. Hesitant, Owens replied, "Tomorrow, early in the morning. It has to be soon."
It felt like somehow the wind had been kicked out from his lungs, though he recovered quickly, nodding his head. "Okay. Sounds good to my ears."
Doctor Owens pulled back, surely impressed by his avidity. "I didn't quite expect you'd be this eager. I like it though. I sure wished my secretary was this eager about fetching me coffee in the morning." She then diverted her attention directly back to Thomas, becoming more stony and serious than he had ever witnessed. "The world does not know yet, but they will. Within time. And I need you to promise me something, Thomas."

"What is it?"
"As amazing as this all is, we cannot tell anyone about our cure. You must not tell anyone. This news is supposed to be classified. Am I understood?"
He nodded, feeling her seriousness invade his own headspace. "Alright, I promise."
Owens spotted the genuineness in his eyes. She sat back in her chair, smiled cheerfully. "Great, now I suggest you get some rest tonight, you'll need it."