The Scorch Trials

“And you forgave that witch?” Minho asked when Thomas finally finished. “I won’t. Whatever those shuck WICKED people wa

Newt seemed to consider it more deeply. “They went through all that-all that pla

“Tell me about it,” Thomas muttered. “And no, I haven’t forgiven her. But for now I think we’re in the same boat.” He looked around-most people were sitting down, staring off into the distance. Not much conversation, and not a whole lot of mingling between the two groups. “What about you guys? How’d you make it here?”

“Found a gap through the mountains,” Minho answered. “Had to fight through some Cranks camping in a cave, but other than that, no problems. Food and water’s almost out, though. And my feet hurt. And I’m pretty sure another big bolt of shuck lightning’s about to come down and make me look like a piece of Frypan’s bacon.”

“Yeah,” Thomas said. He glanced back at the mountains, guessed that all in all they’d probably come about four miles from the base. “Maybe we should bag this whole safe haven thing and try to find shelter.” But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t an option. At least not until the time ran out.

“No way,” Newt replied. “We didn’t come this far to go back now. Let’s just hope the buggin’ storm holds off a little longer.” He looked up at the almost black clouds with a grimace.

The other three Gladers had grown silent. The wind had continued to pick up, and its rushing roars and whips now made it hard to hear each other anyway. Thomas looked at his watch.

Thirty-five minutes. No way this storm would hold for “What’s that!” Minho shouted, jumping to his feet; he pointed at a spot over Thomas’s shoulder.

Thomas turned to look as he stood up, alarm igniting inside him. The terror on Minho’s face had been unmistakable.

About thirty feet from the group, a large section of the desert ground was… opening. A perfect square-maybe fifteen feet wide-pivoted on a diagonal axis as the dirt-packed side slowly spun away from them and what had lain underneath rose up to replace it. The sound of groaning, twisting steel pierced the air, louder than the roaring wind. Soon the rotating square had fully flipped, and where once had been desert ground now lay a section of black material, with an odd object sitting on top of it.

It was oblong and white with rounded edges. Thomas had seen something just like it before. Several of them, in fact. After they’d escaped the Maze and entered the huge chamber where the Grievers had come from, they’d seen several of these coffinlike containers. He hadn’t had much time to think about it then, but seeing it now, he thought those must’ve been where the Grievers stayed-slept?-when not hunting humans in the Maze.

Before he had time to react, more sections of the desert floor-surrounding their group in a large circle-started to rotate open like dark, gaping jaws.

Dozens of them.

CHAPTER 58

The squeal of metal was deafening as the square sections slowly spun on their axles. Thomas had his hands to his ears, trying to keep the sound out. The others in the group were doing the same. All around them, scattered evenly and fully encircling the area in which they stood, patches of desert ground rotated until they disappeared, each one eventually replaced with a large black square when it finally settled with a loud clank, one of those bulbous white coffins resting on top. At least thirty in all.

The scream of metal rubbing against metal stopped. No one spoke. The wind ripped across the land, blowing dust and dirt in streams across the rounded containers. It made a gritty pinging sound. There was so much of it, it blended into a noise that made Thomas’s spine itch; he had to squint to keep stuff out of his eyes. Nothing else had moved since the foreign, almost alien objects had been revealed. There was only that sound and wind and cold and stinging eyes.

Tom? Teresa called to him.

Yeah.

You remember those, right?

Yeah.

You think Grievers are inside?

Thomas realized that was exactly what he thought, but he’d also finally accepted that he could never expect anything. He reasoned it out for a second before he answered. I don’t know. I mean, the Grievers had really moist bodies-it’d be hard on them out here. It seemed like a stupid thing to say, but he was grasping for anything.

Maybe we’re meant to… get inside them, she said after a pause. Maybe they are the safe haven, or they’ll transport us somewhere.

Thomas hated the idea, but thought that maybe she was right. He tore his eyes away from the large pods and looked for her. She was already walking toward him. Fortunately, she was alone. He couldn’t handle both her and Brenda right then.

“Hey,” he said out loud, but the wind seemed to carry the sound away before it even left his mouth. He started to reach out for her hand but then pulled it back, almost forgetting how things had changed. She didn’t seem to notice as she walked over to Minho and Newt and nudged both of them in greeting. They turned to face her and Thomas moved closer to conference with them.

“So what do we do?” Minho asked. He gave Teresa an a

Newt answered. “If those things have bloody Grievers in ’em, we best start gettin’ ready to fight the shuck buggers.”

“What’re you guys talking about?”

Thomas turned to see Harriet and Sonya-it’d been Harriet who’d spoken. And Brenda stood right behind them, with Jorge by her side.

“Oh, great,” Minho muttered. “The two queens of glorious Group B.”

Harriet just acted like she hadn’t heard. “I’m assuming you all saw those pods back in your WICKED chamber, too. They had to be where the Grievers charged up or whatever it was they did.”

“Yeah,” Newt said. “Gotta be that.”

In the sky above, thunder crackled and boomed, and those flashes of light grew brighter. The wind tore at everyone’s clothes and hair and everything smelled wet but dusty-a strange combination. Thomas checked the time again. “We’ve only got twenty-five minutes. We’re either go

A sharp hiss cut through the air from all directions. The sound pierced Thomas’s eardrums and he clamped his hands to the sides of his head again. Movement on the perimeter surrounding them caught his attention, and he watched carefully what was happening with the large white pods.

A line of dark blue light had appeared on one side of each container, then expanded as the top half of the object began to move upward, opening on hinges like the lid of a coffin. It made no sound, at least not enough to be heard over the rushing wind and rumbling thunder. Thomas sensed the Gladers and the others slowly moving closer together, forming a tighter knot. Everyone was trying to get as far away from the pods as possible-and soon they were a coiled pack of bodies encircled by the thirty or so rounded white containers.

The lids continued moving until they’d all swung open and dropped to the ground. Something bulky rested inside each vessel. Thomas couldn’t make out much, but from where he stood he couldn’t see anything like the odd appendages of the Grievers. Nothing moved, but he knew not to let his guard down.

Teresa? he said to her mind. He didn’t dare try talking loudly enough to be heard-but he had to talk to someone or go nuts.

Yeah?

Someone should go take a look. See what’s in it. He said it, but he really didn’t want to be the one to do it.

Let’s go together, she said easily.