Thomas thought surviving the maze was the hardest thing he'd ever do-until he steps into the real world and finds it crawling with the undead. Now, he, Newt, Minho, and Gally are thrust into a brutal fight for survival in a world overtaken by zombie...
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The campfire crackled, filling the silence with its soft, sporadic pops. The group huddled together, exhaustion tugging at their every movement. They'd found a temporary sense of safety in this small clearing, but none of them dared to let down their guard entirely. Just a few feet away, slightly separated from the main group, Jorge sat with Ava and Brenda. They stayed close to the fire's edge, within earshot but set apart—Jorge's watchful gaze and tightly folded arms making the boundary feel tangible.
Thomas felt the strange separation like a weight pressing on his chest. Jorge had made it clear that he didn't want them mingling, didn't want his girls—Ava and Brenda—talking too much to Thomas and his friends. No explanations had been offered, just a hard, silent look from Jorge that left no room for questions. Despite the company, there was a sense of distance between them, as if an invisible line divided their camp in two.
Thomas's gaze drifted toward Ava, who was staring into the flames, her expression thoughtful and guarded. The firelight danced over her features, casting fleeting shadows across her face. He tried to catch her eye, wondering if he might at least get a nod, some unspoken gesture of solidarity or understanding. They were all in this mess together, after all, facing the same threats, feeling the same exhaustion.
But just as his eyes settled on her, Ava's gaze darted up, meeting his for the briefest of moments. Her blue eyes flashed with something he couldn't quite place—recognition, maybe, or a hint of caution—but just as quickly, she looked away, turning her head as if the flicker of connection had never happened.
Beside her, Brenda noticed the exchange and nudged Ava slightly, whispering something under her breath. Ava gave a slight nod, but her expression remained closed-off, unreadable. Jorge, oblivious to the glance they had shared, continued to stare into the woods, his hand resting on the weapon at his side, as if he expected danger to come at any moment.
Teresa shifted beside Thomas, breaking him out of his thoughts. "You noticed how they won't talk to us?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Thomas nodded. "Jorge's not taking any chances with us, that's for sure. He acts like he's letting us stay, but he doesn't trust us."
"I'm not sure I trust him, either," Minho muttered from across the circle, casting a wary glance in Jorge's direction. "He's got that look, like he's weighing each of us, deciding if we're worth the risk."
"Can you blame him?" Newt said, his voice low. "Out here, it's probably safer to assume the worst of everyone. Maybe he's just trying to protect them—Ava and Brenda, I mean."
"Still feels strange, though, doesn't it?" Frypan added, picking absently at a stick. "Like they're hiding something. And I don't mean just from us. I mean from each other."
Thomas's gaze drifted back to Ava, watching as she picked at the edge of her jacket, her movements tense and distracted. He wanted to know more, to understand what they had gone through out here, beyond the walls of the maze, in this world that felt both foreign and unforgiving. What had they seen? What did they know about the dangers lurking in the dark?
As if sensing his gaze again, Ava glanced his way, only to quickly avert her eyes, her face tightening in discomfort. There was something guarded about her, a weight behind her expression that Thomas couldn't ignore. She seemed... haunted, in a way that went beyond fear. Whatever she'd experienced out here had left its mark.
Teresa nudged him lightly. "You should probably stop staring," she whispered, smirking slightly. "She's going to think you're up to something."
Thomas gave a half-smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Can't help it. Just feels like... I don't know, like they know something we don't."
Teresa's gaze softened, following his line of sight. "Maybe. But it's also possible they're just as lost as we are. Jorge seems tough, but that doesn't mean he's got all the answers."
A sudden rustling in the trees nearby snapped everyone's attention to the forest's edge. Jorge's hand tightened on his weapon as he rose to his feet, eyes narrowing as he scanned the shadows. The rest of the group froze, tension rippling through them like a shockwave.
"It's nothing," Brenda said softly, placing a hand on Jorge's arm. "Just the wind, probably."
Jorge let out a slow breath but didn't fully relax. "We're never safe out here. Remember that," he muttered, his gaze sweeping briefly over Thomas and his friends before he settled back down next to Ava and Brenda.
As the campfire burned low, Thomas lay back, staring up at the darkened sky, his mind racing with questions. He had survived the maze, only to find himself in a world that seemed just as dangerous, just as full of secrets and shifting alliances. Jorge's distrust hung over them like a storm cloud, keeping them at arm's length, but the occasional glance from Ava made Thomas wonder if, just maybe, there was more to her story—a story Jorge was determined to keep from them.
And as his eyes drifted shut, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever get close enough to hear it.
