The Maze Runner: The New World

Chapter 4

Thomas stopped dead in his tracks, a wave of panic flooded over him, sweeping away his rationality. He grabbed it back and continued running, legs shaking. Brenda was propped up by the trunk of the tree, her head hanging limply to the right, clearly unconscious. "What the.. shuck?" Minho whispered as they reached Brenda's body.

Thomas didn't reply. He knelt down text to his partner, gingerly reaching out his hands and picking up her right hand. He pressed two fingers down onto her pale grey wrist. "She's alive," Thomas muttered.

In an instant Minho was by Thomas's side, cradling Brenda's face, "Move her legs round, put her in the recovery position!" He shouted, something clicking in his brain and springing into action.

Thomas lay her hand gently back onto her lap and twisted her into the recovery position. "What do we do now?" Thomas asked.

"I don't.."

"Thomas!" Brenda gasped.

It was too much for him now. All the memories of Teresa came to him like a bullet strait to his brain. He never properly mourned for his Teresa. It all happened so quickly. He didn't know what to feel. Yet the longer they were parted, the more he pined for her. For a brief second every single memory they'd ever made together came back to him. Even the longest forgotten ones. The stolen ones. Thomas couldn't take it. Impossibly, he completely disregarded Brenda, turned tail and began to walk off. "Thomas! What the shuck are you doing?!" Minho screamed.

                   Thomas ignored him, not looking back. Tears were spilling down his cheeks like a leak in a pipe. They shouldn't be there. It was wrong. He was doing the wrong thing. Yet he could not turn back. Not by choice. Brenda needed him. Crying was doing no good, but it was only getting worse. Tears were streaming down his face. His eyes were crimson red, snot dribbling out his nose, spit all round his mouth. Ben. No. Stop. The memories. The maze. Newt. The gunshot. It was a spiral of memories he was spinning down into. He was desperately trying to climb back to reality but nothing was working. Trying to grab at anything to pull him back but only more memories were cascading into his brain. All of a sudden Thomas felt something on his shoulder. He spun round to see Minho towering there, "What was that?!" He shouted, flecks of saliva spraying from his mouth in annoyance. His regular collected demeanour had flown out the window, "What the shuck were you thinking you stupid shank?!"

                   Thomas was climbing back from his ordeal, but standing there like a defenceless rabbit, bodily fluids wiped all across his face. "Sorry.. I had a flashback," he muttered. He had no comeback. Brenda slammed back into his brain. What the hell was  he thinking? It took all his strength to take a look at Brenda. She sat in the same place she was when the boys found her, only this time awake, her face full of terror. 

                 At that moment, Thomas felt like the worst human being alive. Everything was messed up now. Without speaking a word, he stumbled over to her and slumped down by her side, legs wavering from the emotions of the whole situation. Brenda's gaze was fixated in the direction of Minho, eyeballs filled with terror, not blinking, not seeing. Thomas had no idea what to say. It was clear Brenda was not going to talk and there was no telling how she'd react if someone spoke to her. Minho was making his way over to them so Thomas resolved to give him the responsibility of talking. "Brenda," Minho began, much to Thomas's relief, "We have no idea what's happened to you and as you know the civilisation isn't in a good situation as it is, so please can you tell us at least some of what's going on with you?"

It was an unnatural streak of respectfulness in Minho - yet another side to the boy that Thomas hadn't seen before. Something he didn't think possible, considering they supposedly knew each other inside out. Brenda spoke up, "It's going wrong." 

Each word came out of the girls mouth like a punch in the gut. Pure terror was articulated in every syllable. Nothing made sense to Thomas, but her demeanour disturbed him. "What do you mean?" Thomas asked cautiously. 

  "I don't know! It's in my gut! I was going to hurt someone, so I ran away and I dreamed," There was no anger in her voice, only confusion and alarm. It was bizarre. 

Thomas cocked his head to examine Minho's face. It was much the same as what Thomas guessed his own expression was. He burned to know what the dream was. For some reason he sensed it would give him answers, but to what he had no idea. And from the look on Brenda's face it wasn't going to a pretty dream. Not pretty at all.