Burnt; TDC ➵ Thomas [DISCONTINUED]

A2

[...]

THOMAS WAS surprised by his own reaction when the door finally opened. He did nothing.

He kept imagining it happening - what would he do and say? How would he tackle the first person to enter the room and dash out? What if she was the person to open the door. Although he knew that WICKED wouldn't allow something like that to slide, he thought of it for amusement.

The door opened with a slight puffing sound and began to swing wide. He felt as though an invisible barrier had appeared between him and the desk - it reminded him of the dorms before they had to begin the Scorch Trials.

Thomas felt nothing when Rat-Man walked into the room. He remembered the guy - after all, he was the same person who informed the Gladers about the recent, hopefully last, trial that they were forced to go on with. Rat-Man had the same long nose, greasy hair. And most importantly, he wore the same ridiculous white suit. Thomas observed that he was paler than the last time they met.

Rat-Man held a thick folder with dozens of crinkled and (unsatisfyingly) messily stacked papers in the crook of one elbow. He was dragging a straight-backed chair with him.

"Good morning, Thomas," he greeted with a stiff nod. Without waiting for a response, he pulled the door shut, set his chair behind the wooden desk and took a seat. He placed the folder in front of him, flipping through the pages. Upon finding what he'd been searching for, he paused and rested his hands on top. Thomas instantly felt uncomfortable when Rat-Man flashed him a pathetic smile.

"It'll only be a good morning if you release me." Thomas hadn't realized until then that he hadn't spoken in weeks. His voice came out like a croak. Nothing changed about Rat-Man's expression. "Yes. I'm fully aware. You have nothing to fret over - you'll be hearing a lot of positive news today. Trust me."

Thomas couldn't hold in his scoff when the words "Trust me" left Rat-Man's mouth. "Yeah. Sure. I won't find any of that news positive unless I know she is alive."

Something unrecognizable flashed in Rat-Man's eyes but it disappeared in a split second. He took several deep breaths. "You'd think that almost four weeks in this white box might humble a boy. But you seem to have hung up on the same things and people over and over."

"So you're telling me that I'm not crazy, then? Don't have the Flare, never did? That none of my friends - Alby, Chuck - died? That Amelia survived?" Thomas couldn't help himself. The anger was rising in him until he felt like he was going to explode. But he forced calmness into his voice.

Just hearing her name - saying her name - stung.

Rat-Man sighed. "You don't understand. You don't understand what I came in here to tell you."

"Why would I believe a word that comes out of your mouth? How could you possibly expect me to?"

Thomas realized that he'd stood up. He didn't even remember standing up. His chest lurched with heavy breaths. He had to get control of himself. Rat-Man just stared him coldly. Whether or not the man before him was lying (once again), Thomas knew he was going to have to listen if he wanted to leave this goddamn white room.

Thomas forced his breathing to slow down then waited for Rat-Man to begin his lecture. After several seconds of silence, his visitor continued.

"I know we've lied to you - a lot. We've done some awful things to you and your friends. But it was all part of a plan that not only agreed to, but helped set in place. We've had to take it all a little farther than we'd hoped in the beginning - there's no doubt about that. However, everything has stayed true to the spirit of what the Creators envisioned - what you envisioned in their place after they were... purged."

"You didn't answer me. How can you possibly expect me to believe anything you say?" Thomas shook his head slowly, scoffing.

Rat-Man continued to speak. However, his tone had changed - it became less detached and clinical and more professional. "You are obviously well aware that we have a horrible disease eating the minds of humans worldwide. Everything we've done up 'till now has been calculated for one purpose and one purpose only: to analyze your brain patterns and build a blueprint from them.

"The goal is to use this blueprint to develop a cure for the Flare. The lives lost, pain and suffering - you knew the stakes when this began. We all did. It was all done to ensure the survival of the human race. And we're very close. Very, very close."

Memories had come back to Thomas on several occasions. The Changing, the dreams he'd had since, fleeting glimpses here and there.

Thomas was still wary. He was well aware that he'd been a part of it all, had helped the Creators design the Maze. He took over the programme going with new recruits. "I remembered enough to be ashamed of myself-" He took a sniff, remembering that he agreed to send Amelia to the Maze. "-But living through this kind of abuse is a lot different than planning it. It's not right."

He assumed that something he had said had gotten to Rat-Man as he scratched his nose and shifted in his seat. Thomas didn't pay attention to the next few words that Rat-Man had said. The next thing he knew, Rat-Man was saying "Just remember that at one time you believed it did, Thomas."

The man began to collect his papers as if to go but didn't move. "I'm here to tell you that everything is set and our data is almost complete. We're on the cusp of something great. Once we have the blueprint, you can go boo-hoo with your friends all you want about how unfair we've been."

Thomas felt vehement to cut him with harsh words. Instead, he held himself back. Rat-Man stood up. He smoothed the wrinkles out of his pants and adjusted his coat.

"The virus lives in every part of your body, yet it has no effect on you, nor will it ever. You're a member of an extremely rare group of people. You're immune to the Flare-" Rat-Man clasped his hands behind his back as Thomas gulped. "On the outside, in the streets, they call people like you Munies. And they really, really hate you."

"Then out of all my friends... Who isn't..." Thomas didn't have the heart to say the full question. Lucky for him, Rat-Man already knew what he was going to ask.

"Who isn't immune?" Rat-Man asked, eyebrows raised. It was weird but it somehow triggered the memory of Gally. "Oh, I think they should find you before you, don't you? But first things first. You smell like a week-old corpse - let's get you to the showers and find some fresh clothes."

Rat-Man was about to leave the room when he paused and pivoted. Thomas hadn't left his spot. "I understand you don't trust me, and I can see why. But you really need to cooperate with me here, Thomas. You'll be reuniting with your friends. Isn't that what you wanted for the past four weeks?"

Thomas guessed it was another lie - the fact that he was going to reunite with his friends. Maybe with Amelia too. But he gave up at that point of time. He didn't want to argue. Without another word, Thomas walked across the room and followed Rat-Man through the door, leaving his white-walled cell behind.

[Written 2 March 2018]