Tom, don't even try to talk back, just listen. Something terrible is going to happen to you tomorrow. An awful, awful thing. You're gonna be hurt and you're gonna be scared. But you have to trust me. No matter what happens, no matter what you see, no matter what you hear, no matter what you think. You have to trust me. I won't be able to talk to you.
She paused, but Thomas was so stunned and trying so hard to understand what she'd said―make sure he remembered it―that he couldn't get a word in before she started up again.
I have to go. You won't hear from me for a while.
Another pause.
Not until we're back together.
He fumbled for something to say, but her voice and her presence slipped away, leaving him empty once more.
CHAPTER 43
It took a long time for Thomas to find sleep again.
He had no doubt it had been Teresa. None at all. Just like before when they'd spoken to each other, he'd felt her presence, sensed her emotions. She'd been with him, even if it had been for such a short time. And when she left, it was like opening up that vast void within all over again. As if during the days since her disappearance a thick liquid had slowly seeped in and filled that chamber, only to have it all sucked out again when she came and went.
What had she meant, anyway? Something awful was going to happen to him, but he needed to trust her? He couldn't wrap his mind around that enough for it to make any sense. And as awful as her warning sounded, his thoughts kept drifting to the last part, about them being together again. Was that some string of false hope? Or did it mean she thought he'd make it through the bad thing and end up okay? Reunited with her? Possibilities raced through his mind, but they all seemed to hit a depressing dead end.
The day only got hotter and hotter as he tossed and turned, haunted by his thoughts. He'd almost grown used to Teresa's being gone, which made him sick to his stomach. To make it worse, he felt like he'd betrayed her by letting Brenda become his friend, by growing so close to her.
Ironically, his first instinct was to reach out and wake Brenda, talk to her about it. Was that wrong? He felt so frustrated and stupid he wanted to scream.
All great for someone trying to fall back asleep in the miserable heat.
The sun had trudged halfway to the horizon before he finally did.
He felt a little better in the late evening when Newt shook him awake. Teresa's brief visit to his mind seemed like a dream now. He could almost believe it had never happened.
"Sleep well, Tommy?" Newt asked. "How's that shoulder?"
Thomas sat up, rubbed his eyes. Though he couldn't have slept for more than three or four hours, his sleep had been deep and undisturbed. He rubbed his shoulder to test it and was surprised all over again. "Feels really good, actually―aches a little, but not much. Hard to believe I was hurtin' so bad before."
Newt looked around at the Gladers preparing to leave, then back at Thomas. "Feels like we haven't talked much since leaving the bloody dorm. Not much time to sit around and sip tea, I guess."
"Yeah." For some reason this made Thomas think of Chuck, and all the pain of his death came rushing back. Which just made him hate the people behind all this all over again. The line from Teresa came back to him. "I don't see how WICKED can be good."
"Huh?"
"Remember what Teresa had written on her arm when she first woke up? Or did you even know about that? It said WICKED is good. I'm just finding that hard to believe." The sarcasm in his voice wasn't subtle.
Newt had a strange smile on his face. "Well, they just saved your buggin' life."
"Yeah, they're real saints." Thomas couldn't deny he was confused. They had saved his life. He also knew he'd worked for them. But what it all meant, he had no idea.
Brenda, who had been stirring in her sleep, now finally sat up, letting out a big yawn. "Morning. Or evening. Whatever."
"Another day alive," Thomas answered, then realized Newt might have no idea who Brenda was. He really had no idea what had happened in the group since he'd been shot. "I'm assuming you guys had time to get to know each other? If not, Brenda, this is Newt. Newt, Brenda."
"Yeah, we know already." Newt reached out and shook her hand mockingly. "But thanks again for making sure this bloody sissy didn't get his butt killed while you two were out partying."
The barest hint of a smile flashed across her face. "Partying. Yeah. I especially loved the part where we had people trying to cut our noses off." A look flashed across her face, part embarrassment, part despair. "Guess it won't be long before I'm one of those psychos."
Thomas didn't know how to respond to that. "You're probably not that much farther along than us. Remember that―"
Brenda wouldn't let him finish. "Yeah, I know. You guys are gonna take me to the magical cure. I know." She got up then, the conversation obviously over.
Thomas looked at Newt, who shrugged. Then, as he got to his knees, he leaned in and whispered, "She your new girlfriend? I'm telling Teresa." He snickered to himself and was gone.
Thomas sat there for a minute, overwhelmed by it all. Teresa, Brenda, his friends. The warning he'd received. The Flare. The fact that they only had a few days to cross those mountains. WICKED. Whatever waited for them at the safe haven and in the future.
Too much. It was all too much.
He had to stop thinking. He was hungry, and that he could solve. So he got up and went searching for something to eat. And Frypan didn't disappoint.
They set off just as the sun dipped below the horizon, making the dusty orange land look almost purple. Thomas was cramped and tired, itching to walk off some steam and loosen his muscles.