The New Horizon ~ A Maze Runner Story

- 30 -

Thomas found himself in a fitful sleep, tossing and turning, his mind uncertain. Throughout the entire dinner at the cafe last night he acted as if he would be leaving AFA that morning with his Minho and Brenda and all the others. But when he woke up early that morning, the windows emitting the gray light of oncoming dawn, Thomas felt all of last night's deceit come racking at his heart. Was he really fooling his friends into believing he would join them? Minho's right--I am a slinthead, Thomas thought.

As painstakingly silent as he could maintain, he dressed himself in his old clothes from the day before--blue denim jeans and a black polo--laced his sneakers into sloppy, misshapen loops, and raced out of the apartment room, wincing as he slammed the door a little too loudly. He headed straight for the lobby. Even in the earliest hours of the morning, the lobby was thriving with just as much life. People buzzed around like worker bees in a hive of scientists and doctors and receptionists. Phones rang, heels clacked against the tiled flooring, chatter emanated from all sides of the place. Thomas was downright amazed at how conscientious these people were at five in the morning.

He followed behind an orderly, who weaved him through hallways belonging to scientists and executives of the building, according to their door plaques, until he stopped in front of Doctor April Owens' door. Thomas was so adamant to speak with her; he had to find out exactly what was going on with that test and how May was reacting to the injection.
Doctor Owens appeared to be the only one affected by the early hours of the morning as she sipped on a steaming mug of coffee, watching as the orderly escorted Thomas into her office.
"Thank you for stopping by," Owens said, placing the mug on her desk as Thomas took a seat across from her. "Please excuse me, I normally never have any visitors at this time."

"I'm never up this early, either," Thomas admitted. "But I needed to ask you something."
"Sure," Owens nodded, setting her mug down, "what is it?"
Thomas shifted. "Is it possible for me to stay--you know, another couple of days? Just until May's prognosis of the cure is available. Waiting's been driving me crazy and I can't leave knowing that I won't be allowed back in."
In response, Owens opened a manilla folder beside her, then handed Thomas one of the papers tucked neatly inside it. "We actually have already acquired the prognosis, but of course you can stay. As long as you want. Just don't let the secret spill to anyone else."

Thomas's ears muffled out any last noise as his eyes furiously perused the document, his curiosity overriding any traces of fatigue he felt seconds ago. According to the paper's prognosis, May was doing great last time they examined her, which was a little less than an hour ago. Her vitals normal, her blood expelling traces of infection. Thomas nearly gasped as he read that May's blood had already eliminated ninety-two percent of the Flare in several hours . . . which meant--

Thomas blew out a breath, his back smacking against the chair as his body went limp, overcome with so much relief it almost felt as if the wind had been knocked out from his lungs.
Doctor Owens nodded, embracing the joyousness of the news. "It's absolutely wonderful, isn't it? Thomas, this is the breakthrough the entire world has wished so dearly for. It's happening." She waved the paper around jubilantly, laughing with incredulity. Thomas couldn't help but join her. Their laughs almost sounded crazed, completely unbelieving but believing all the same.

"I . . . I don't know what to say." A whirling mix of emotions swirled around inside Thomas, as if caught in the center of a hurricane. Happiness, immense relief, sadness even. If only Newt could have lived to see the day, to become cured. His parents. Others on the streets, outside of British Columbia's guarded cities, dying right then from a disease that was believed to be incurable, now curable. And there was still a month--or more--to go before the world would begin to witness vaccines. Waiting any longer was a horrible thought, and even worse of a reality, but at least there was solid hope to hang on to. Solid and crystalline; an absolutely beautiful truth that Thomas's blood, in fact, worked.

"We assume that May's hemoglobin levels will show not one trace of the Flare within the next coming hour. She will be completely immune--for good. Thanks to you and your blood. Though of course we will continue to run tests on her the remainder of the day."
Thomas nodded, pulling himself together. He forced himself to form full sentences but somehow, he failed, floundering through his stupor. Thankfully, Owens continued speaking. "We are all so, so proud of you Thomas."

Thomas finally found his voice, though he had no idea what to say except for, "Thank you."
Doctor Owens nodded. "You can also speak with May as soon as she's released. I think she'd like to see you again."
Something invisible pricked Thomas's insides. May. He wanted to see her, wanted to ask her how she was doing, how she felt. Watch her smile, feel her embrace. "Of course. I'd like to see her."
"Wonderful, then." Owens smiled, and it was so warm and motherly that Thomas found it actually impossible to leave even if he wanted to. He sucked in a breath, mentally preparing himself to explain this all to his friends. He would have to let them down. And it was bittersweet.