ACT II SCENE XLII
LICYMNIUS

   WHEN DAWN broke over the thin horizon, it brought the heat along with it and the sunbeams crept across her skin. The sweat running down her entire body made the stitch in her leg itch something awful. Her hate for the sun could rival its own fiery depths.

It had probably been three hours since they started from the rocky outcrop and the black speck in the distance grew larger on the horizon. She was convinced that it looked like a building of some sort, maybe they would actually find shelter and it made her want to walk a tiny bit faster to reach it. Minho stopped them for a break another hour later before continuing again.

Everyone walked in relatable silence, trying to conserve their energy and water as much as possible. But it was dull and boring. Another couple of hours later, they had crossed a good amount of distance towards the mountains. Archie started shouting hoarsely behind them and they turned to look at him questioningly.

"A shack!" He pointed. "It's a shuckin' shack!"

Cassandra turned back around and squinted her eyes against the heat waves dissipating into the air. It was an old wooden hut that looked like it was built out of large matchsticks. A collective sigh of relief went around the group. Half an hour later, they reached the shack and Cassandra slowly pushed the door open, as if afraid it would disintegrate into dust at the barest touch.

It was empty and there was plenty of room for all thirteen of them to lie around. Minho turned around to the others with a smirk. "Welcome to my humble abode," he said before stepping inside.

Cassandra plopped herself down on the sandy floorboards and watched as the boys filtered in, talking freely now that they were able to rest properly. She noted Jorge and Brenda sitting on the farthest side away from them and she had to remind herself that they were part of WICKED.

Minho settled himself next to her and handed her a canteen of water. She took a big gulp before passing it back to him. Newt got out his bag of nuts and started munching on them. Exhaustion had kind of taken away her appetite.

"Just in time for midday too," Newt said. "I'd hate to be out there with the sun beating down on us like dogs."

"I wonder, what's happenin' to Thomas?" Frypan looked around at them. "He's with WICKED, isn't he? What are they doing to him?"

"Maybe he has a comfy bed," Cassandra suggested. "Maybe Rat Man brought him some eggs and bacon."

The boys all groaned collectively at the mention of bacon. "Thanks, Cassie. That's all I'm gonna dream about later." Minho sighed.

"I could use some bacon right now." Archie leaned against a wall and rubbed his stomach. "Or some of Fry's nasty casserole. Man, that used to hit the spot."

"If my casserole's so nasty, you wouldn't have asked for extra servings every time!" Frypan threw a nut in his direction and the blonde Runner caught it with his mouth.

Jorge's voice diverted their attention then. "You kids should rest up," he told them. "Won't be long now till we reach the mountains."

Something about the way he said it made Cassandra frown, like he was expecting something to happen. The Gladers exchanged morose looks with each other. Minho nodded his head then and told them to get some more sleep. They'd make it all the way to the mountains when the sun set.

   Cassandra turned onto her side and opened her eyes. It was hot and stifling, cramped up in the shack with bodies all around her. They had shelter but the heat that oppressed them wasn't something they could escape from. And there was something pressing against her thigh.

She reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a sleek black capsule. Frowning in confusion, she turned it over between her fingers and found one word embossed on its side: PROPHESY. Once again, WICKED must think they're so clever with their references. She shoved it back into her pocket before cocking her head to the side attentively.

Cassandra started when she heard a familiar sound coming from outside the shack. It was the whirring of metal blades and hum of heavy machinery. A berg. She stood up, rushing to pull the door open. The invasion of bright white light made her wince and a couple of boys behind her stirred. Minho awoke and peered up at her blearily.

"What's happening?" he asked hoarsely.

"It's Thomas." Her eyes widened. "It's Thomas, they're bringing him back!"

The berg flew closer towards them. A long line attached to a small bundle started to lower and dangle in the air. The litter swung precariously above the ground and she stepped outside into the blazing sun. They stood around as the berg hovered above them and carefully lowered Thomas to the ground. He was strapped to the litter and looked like he was only just waking up. They swarmed around him when he finally touched the cracked earth.

"Welcome back, shank," Cassandra greeted with a wolfish grin.

"What was that all about?"

"Are you okay?"

"What'd they do to you?"

"Have fun in the Berg?"

"How's your shoulder?"

Thomas ignored them with a semi-dazed look of bewilderment on his face. He tried to get up but the ropes bound him tightly to the canvas litter. The boy's eyes looked around until he found Minho, then flicked to Cassandra who was right beside him.

"A little help here?" he asked.

They took a step closer and started to cut the ropes with their knives, pulling them off one by one. She had hoped that there might be a couple of supplies in the litter with him but that was it. Just Thomas.

He stood up and started to stretch, continuing to ignore the melee of questions that were thrown at him from every direction. He examined himself, having received fresh clothes as well, then tested his shoulder by rotating it slightly. Then he turned back to Minho.

"What are you guys doing out in the open? Your skin is gonna bake!" he exclaimed.

Minho pointed at the shack. "We better get back under that thing."

Thomas nodded, starting towards it and they followed. "Okay, look, I'll answer everything when we're settled inside."

"But what happened?" Newt asked excitedly. "What did they do to you?"

The boy sighed. "I'll tell you when we get inside."

Minho pushed the door to the shack open and they filtered inside under the cool shade. When everyone settled around, Minho pointed to an empty spot on the floor. "Thomas. You sit there, get yourself all nice and comfy and start talking about your adventures with the aliens in their big bad spaceship."

"You sure about this?" Thomas looked at him worriedly. "How many days left to get over those mountains to the safe haven?"

"Five days, dude," Minho replied. "But you know we can't go tramping around in this sun with nothing to protect us. You're gonna talk, then we're gonna go back to sleep, then we're all gonna bust our humps walking all night. Get on it."

Thomas nodded. "Save all your questions till the end, children. I kept passing out, but WICKED took me to some doctors who totally fixed me up. I heard them saying about how it wasn't supposed to happen, how the gun had been a factor they hadn't expected. The bullet set off a nasty infection in me, and I guess they felt pretty strongly that it wasn't time for me to die."

"Well, that really cleared things up," Minho remarked. "Must have something to do with all those signs in the city about you being the real leader."

"Glad to know you're really happy to see me alive."

"Hey, if you wanna be the leader, no skin off my back. I am happy to see you alive though."

"No thanks. You keep it."

"Thank the Gods!" Cassandra exclaimed in relief.

Newt rubbed his chin with a small scowl. "So we're all potential candidates for something. And maybe the purpose of all the buggin' klunk we've been through is to weed out those who don't qualify. But for some reason the whole gun-and-rusty-bullet thing wasn't part of the...normal tests. Or Variables, whatever. If Thomas is gonna croak and die, it wasn't supposed to come from a bloody infection."

Thomas nodded his head in agreement at the summary. "What this means is that they're watching us," Minho said. "Just like they did in the Maze. Has anyone seen a beetle blade running around anywhere?"

They shook their heads. Something like a beetle blade would have been too obvious to spot out in the open here. "What the hell's a beetle blade?" Jorge asked.

"Little mechanical centipede things that spied on us with cameras in the Maze," answered Thomas.

"Of course. I'm sorry I asked." The man rolled his eyes.

"The Maze was definitely some kind of indoor facility," Aris spoke up. "But there's just no way we're inside something anymore. Though they could be using satellites or long-range cameras, I guess."

Jorge cleared his throat. "What is it about Thomas that makes him so special? Those signs in the city about him being the real leader, them swooping in here and saving his butt when he got all sicky-sicky. I'm not trying to be mean, muchacho—I'm just curious. What makes you better than the rest of your buddies?"

"You're from WICKED, you tell us," Minho grunted.

"I'm not special." Thomas frowned in consternation. "They saved Cass too. It wasn't about me—it was the bullet that messed things up."

"Yeah, well, I'm staying close to you two from here on."

The Gladers continued to converse until Minho told them to get some sleep. It was already two in the afternoon and they'd only have a few hours of rest until they had to bust their asses again. Cassandra lied down and closed her eyes, only to hear Thomas speaking into her mind.

"Did anything else happen?"

She hesitated for a brief second. It still hurt to even think about it. "I'm losing my mind, Thomas. Whatever WICKED did to me, it's affecting me faster than everyone else."

"The Flare?" There was panic in his voice.

"Yeah. I keep getting blackouts and losing massive chunks of my memories. I can't tell reality apart from my dreams anymore either. For a moment, I couldn't even recognise Minho."

He didn't reply for a while, probably trying to digest what she had just told him. "Cass...I-I'm sorry."

Her face felt incredibly hot then and she realised that she was flushed from holding in her tears. She swallowed thickly and closed her eyes.

"They'll give us a cure, they have to. We'll make it to the safe haven."

She sniffled and she imagined her telepathic voice wavering. "Okay."

"We'll get through this."

The tears started to leak out, streaming down her cheeks and she turned towards the wall.

"Okay."