Author's note:

Back after another successful NaNoWriMo. I'll try putting up a chapter on the first day of every month from now on.

Chapter 49. Plans.

The scientists let them go in the early morning, exhausted and plagued by headaches. Thomas was surprised they had been released at all. The experimenters had been merciless in their studies. The tasks were simple enough on the surface; 'Say this to that person telepathically' 'Now to that person' and so on, but the toll of it complicated the matter. Thomas' brain strained to send a message, stinging sharply when he tried speaking with Teresa or vice versa.

The scientists had not been pleased. Their sun-deprived faces had darkened as the hours passed and nothing was working. The only successful try was when Thomas said the ordered phrase to Newt, who could make out a few words of it. This had only happened because Thomas was afraid. He had used telepathy to talk to his friend twice, but as far as he knew, WICKED had only noted the first time, where he had succeeded due to his distress. As time passed and the experimenters got frustrated, he worried they might start beating people up to trigger a reaction in somebody. Perhaps it would have worked.

He could not replicate his near-success, nor could anybody else, but an hour or so later they were told to leave and return at noon.

Teresa yawned, the others following suit. The sounds were like sirens in the dim corridor. "Those Slintheads," she complained. "It's three in the morning. And they expect us—" She yawned again The others copied her again.

"Stop making us yawn!" Minho groaned.

"Get better at resisting," Teresa shot back, punching his shoulder weakly.

Teresa had put in more effort than anybody, seeming to get as frustrated as the scientists when it did not work. At one point she held her breath as she concentrated and was so focused on the task that she fainted. And then those horrible people had made her continue the moment she opened her eyes. The others had not been far from her state and were now left to stagger and stumble their way back to the dormitories. Thomas longed for a bed, eventually lying in one, unsure how he'd gotten there.

He woke to Minho's cries of 'Just have a shuck sleep-in! I don't care, let me sleep, you evil shanks!'. His eyes hurt from tiredness, but he rubbed at them and sat up. Something flew through the air, thudding against the wall. A second later, the lights were out. Weak sunbeams fell on the floor from a window somewhere, leaving the room mostly dim, but visible. A shoe lay by the wall. Surely Minho did not have that level of precision if he was in a state making shoe-throwing a solution. No, Newt was by the light switch, shaking his head at Minho, who pulled the duvet over his head and lay still.

Thomas swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up and stretching his arms, still miserably tired and considering doing what Minho did. Newt came over to him, grinning brightly. "How are ya, Tommy?"

"Tired."

Newt rolled his eyes. "Really? Wouldn't've guessed. Go back to sleep, Tommy. We've got five hours 'til noon."

Thomas looked back at the crumpled blanket, nodding a bit. "Wait, I can't," he remembered.

"Why not?"

"Paige. I've gotta talk to her. If I tell her about the experimenters—"

"As if they didn't act on her bloody orders." Newt shrugged. "Just sayin'. She's their boss. The criminal mastermind of supreme evil."

"Where'd you get that line from?" Thomas asked, stepping into his shoes.

"Heard it in a movie. Back when we lived in the city, we'd watch them with our mum every Friday, Lizzy and I."

Thomas paused. "How do you remember that? Did the Cure do something to the memory block?" He'd suspected as much, hadn't he?

"Looks like it. I can remember it all now. Everything…" His smile faded.

"You remember something bad?" Thomas could not help but pry. He had been someone else before his memories were taken; he knew that, and now Newt knew too, more than Thomas himself. What if Thomas had done something terrible? What if Newt hated him now? Well, that was dumb, his friend was talking to him. He'd been smiling brighter than the sun just moments before.

Newt scoffed "You really are tired. Sure you can't look for Paige later?"
"No. Can't take the risk." Thomas headed for the door. The other Gladers looked at him curiously. "Wanna come with?"

"Sure, mate."

They walked down the corridors, which were somewhat cleaner than the ones from before. Their room was new, but Thomas recognized a certain window nearby and felt confident enough to navigate the area.

Thomas cleared his throat. "I was… somebody else before the Glade. I don't remember it all, but now that you do… Was I… well, I don't know, an evil scientist?"

Newt chuckled. "Were you ever? Don't you remember that one time you had us take on a Griever like gladiators for your amusement? You made a terrible pun about it, too."

"I did ...? No, I didn't!" Thomas scowled.

"You didn't." Newt got serious and sighed before continuing. "They kept you separate from the rest of us. Teresa, too. But we managed to find you, and you were nice enough. I think we hated you a little at the end when they sent us to the Glade and you were on their side."

Thomas nodded, feeling the sting in his gut. He had known, of course, but hearing it was worse.

"I told you before -it's not your fault they made you do it. You couldn't help that they were bloody—"

"They did what they thought they had to," Thomas interrupted, hoping it didn't sound too forced to anybody who might be listening. Whatever they'd said about WICKED before could be taken as a joke, and that was already risky territory.

Newt frowned at him but caught on to his meaningful look.

They were silent for a while until Newt spoke up. "I wonder how we'll get to a city once they let us go. I hope we get to fly."

That was random. "Um, yeah," Thomas said.

"Being on that helicopter earlier was pretty fun, but I can barely remember what was real from that time."

"Because of… the Flare." The Flare, and Alby's death.

"Yeah. I know we said some stuff, but I might've been dreamin' or something." He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Oh. He was asking if their war on WICKED was still on. "I meant what I said."

Newt nodded. "Good."

"Just one problem," Thomas said. "I don't really know where Paige is." He had an odd sense of recognizing the corridors, but he had no idea where to go.

Newt patted his shoulder. "Luckily, I just got back years of exploring this place."

Either Newt had exaggerated his navigation skills, or Paige had moved her office. The spot around the old one was darker and grimier than the previous corridors, which seemed to be a surprise.

They made it eventually, at almost eight thirty, but Ava Paige was not alone. As Thomas was about to knock on the door with the sign 'Chancellor A. Paige', it opened in his face. It was one of the experimenters, the one he'd nicknamed 'Sneer'. Her surprise hardened into an unspoken threat, and Thomas wondered whether talking to Paige would be a mistake. If she did not side with them… Well, Sneer had seen them there in any case. Doing nothing would be a risk in itself.

"And they threatened you with violence?" The chancellor sounded aghast.

"They implied they would control us and make us hurt each other," Thomas confirmed.

Paige shook her head. "Thank you for telling me." She reached across her desk and dialed something into a walkie talkie. "Apprehend doctor Abernathy and her team. No, use the cells in Section B."

So it had been that simple.

Ava Paige sighed. "Thomas, Newt, I'm very sorry for this nasty business. We would like to explore your telepathic abilities, but there was no intention of forcing you into it. I suppose it would be pointless to ask for your cooperation with another team of researchers now. It would help in rebuilding —but you probably want to leave right away, now that the Cure has been found. I could make arrangements immediately, if—"

"No," Thomas said, perhaps hastily. They could not leave now. "I, at least, am willing to stay, as long as I am not working with those types from earlier."

Newt nodded. "I will stay, too. This telepathy… well, I don't know much about it, do I? And if I have it, I might as well understand it."

Paige brightened. "That's wonderful to hear! With the world like it is, we need the ability to communicate over long distances, and agents moving to cure the more… seriously affected will need to make as little noise as possible, of course. It would have revolutionized the functions of society, even before the Sun Flares." She tapped her fingers against the desk in thought. "I will surely be able to assemble a new team by tomorrow… Yes! You will be informed then. Would you ask your friends if they are willing to come?"

"We will ask them," Thomas promised. "But we want to discuss our terms for helping with you in person, before we go anywhere with some scientist."

"Naturally."

The cafeteria was their first recruitment ground. The others had all finished long ago but stuck around to hear Thomas and Newt's perspectives on what had happened after the attack on the northern base. Minho had told them about most things, but the other two filled in some of the blanks while they ate. They spoke in soft voices, not because they were hiding anything, but because they were about to. Somebody from the group of sullen guards at the other side of the room might pass by and overhear something, and would find their conversation innocent. Thomas looked over at them a few times. He could not drastically change his behavior once he got down to business. Some of the guards walked past, heading out or getting water, and heard a retelling of the final trial. It was not odd when Thomas lowered his voice even more and looked to see if somebody was listening in a bit more seriously.

He had avoided talking about Alby before, but now he did. It felt unreal, describing what had taken place, thinking that it had happened so recently, even though it didn't feel like it. Alby, gone, when they had just gotten him back. Guilt clawed at Thomas, and he could just barely disentangle it and explain what they had learned, how WICKED had planned the Right Arm's involvement and attack on the northern facility, how Alby's death was a result of their actions, and the death of that girl at the battle by the entrance, and the unknown status of the girl who had gone with Alby. At many points of the story, there were gasps of shock, of indignation, and anger. Newt would interrupt at regular intervals to tell people to calm down. By the end of the explanation, when Thomas himself had worked up the anger to jump from his seat and fly on the guards with his fists, it was Newt's tight grip on his hand under the table that stopped him. It was hard to tell which of them trembled. It could have been both, but the thing that mattered was that the others didn't see. The group needed to see strength for what would come next.

Thomas, Newt, and Minho took turns explaining their idea to bring down WICKED, to a mixture of frowns and nods. Thomas looked at the reactions with worry. If they didn't agree, what then? Surely they would not stand in the way of WICKEDs destruction… but he had imagined it as a group effort. Would any potential ally follow only three people?

"I don't know about this plan," Teresa whispered. "I mean, revenge? If we fail, they will hunt us forever. Why not get out right now? They wouldn't stop us."

It stung that she was the one who argued against them, but her arguments were valid, albeit not wholly correct. "It's justice. We can't let them get away with this, and maybe they say we can go, but what if they find out nobody else can use telepathy? Paige thinks it'll help rebuild the world —we'd look like the bad guys," Thomas said.

"If people knew what they did to us, at least a few would hide us if we failed," Minho agreed.

"We'd still look like the bad guys for taking the Cure. The Right Arm and some lab equipment wouldn't be enough to make more," Teresa pointed out.

"In that case, we'd find someone else to do it, or recruit one of WICKED's doctors," Thomas said.

"Great idea, Tom!" Teresa hissed, a bit too loudly. The guards could hear her.

Thomas shook his head, telling her to be quiet telepathically, on pure instinct. It did not work. His head pulsed hotly as she stood up. "Just pull us into another mess, why don't you?" The guards were all looking at her now. Thomas wondered how they perceived it, staring at each of the strange faces until they looked away. Then he noticed that Teresa was gone. It was not like her to cause a scene or potentially give their plans away out of anger. Her eyes had shifted around nervously —what had they hid?

Nobody liked WICKED, nobody minded seeing their destruction, and most were willing to help in that destruction. The Cure was a problem, though. It would be important if they wanted to gain support, but half the group did not want to steal it, either for risk of capture stealing it or the risk of being unable to produce more on their own.

"Don't decide yet," Thomas said. "Our current task is gathering information. Maybe someone could join the team working with the Cure, see how its done and get close to it."

"How long do we have to do this infiltration-stuff?" Frypan asked.

"Depends on how long they want to keep us for the telepathy research. That should be plenty of time, and if not, we'll stall their progress. We want to leave before it's over, though, to be unpredictable."

They were not arrested immediately, and Thomas took that as a good sign. If their plans were secret now, they would not be for long, but he relied on WICKED finding out.

They split up after the meal, starting off their research. During the time that had passed since they left the northern facility, some people had found productive uses of their time, helping out at different posts. WICKED needed all the help they could get, and the teens needed a distraction from the tense waiting. Frypan had claimed his rightful place in the kitchen, helping the staff manage their dwindling supplies. Thomas had asked him to find out who the suppliers were and why they had stopped sending food. Could they starve WICKED into surrender? Maybe not, but they could do something. The kitchen staff were reportedly huge gossips, which gave them even more insight.

Thomas went with Gally to the library, where he had been helping out. He remembered that small, forgotten room. The books they'd taken must have been reclaimed as WICKED came to their rescue in that forest. Maybe Gally had been sent to put them back on their shelves, bumped against something, and turned a row of books to dust and loose paper that he now had to sweep up.

There was the door to the library, which Gally walked right past.

"Thought you said we were goin' to the library," said Newt, who was with them.

Sonya, who had also gone with them, answered: "To the new library. They're moving it."

"Why?" Thomas asked.

She shrugged. "The librarian had a bunch of us haul stacks of books over to the new place. She didn't tell us anything, and we were too scared to ask."

"Scared of…?"

"Her."

The group settled around an oval table in the one spot sunlight was allowed through the tiny window of the library, all under the watchful and disapproving gaze of the elderly librarian.

"I'll go ask Margaret about those maps," Gally offered. He went over to the librarian and said something. She nodded and led him to a stuffed bookshelf at the other end of the room. Thomas followed soon after Newt and Sonya began conversing quietly with each other.

A stack of books was promptly shoved into his arms as he reached the bookshelf.

"Too damn messy," muttered the librarian darkly, not making it clear whether she meant the shelf, the geography, or Thomas.

Gally held a half-dozen books himself, shifting under the weight as a seventh was added.

"Remember to look at the dates," she said, before returning to her little desk.

Thomas looked at Gally as they carried the weights to their table. "So, how's it—?"

Gally rolled his eyes.

"Alright. Do you like the library?" He asked instead.

"Smells old, but yeah."

"So you like books?"

"Nah, but there's other stuff to do. Once a Builder…."

They put the books down on the table, which creaked in protest. That would be a good place for Gally to start if he was always going to be a Builder. Thomas had been a Runner. Would he always be?

Sonya raised an eyebrow. "Well doesn't that look like the perfect amount of readin' for one day?"

The books ranged from five years old to just a few months. Mapmaking must have been a lucrative business when cities rose and fell left and right. Comparing these maps, they could determine which places were sturdy, a few larger settlements that were present throughout the years. A few dozen cities and a thousand little villages, all looking very sad. He knew there was more to the world than the maps showed, other continents, but the fear of being alone gnawed at his reason, making him long for a world map, if there were any.

"What about this one?" Gally pointed at a big town in southern Canada.

Thomas flipped through the oldest book until he found the place. "That the newest version?"

"Yeah."

He looked between the two. "It looks smaller now, could be a bad sign."

"Nobody's got the time to go around measuring every inch," Gally argued.

Newt, sitting left to Thomas on the sofa, leaned over the book. "No, look. It doesn't have water." He tapped the page. His hair gleamed like gold in the sun, and Thomas forgot about the map for a moment.

"Of course they have water, Slinthead," Gally said.

Newt shook his head, annoyed. "And where'd ya think they get it from?" He pointed at a thin, blue streak north of the city. "Imagine the Glade if some Shank cut off the water supply."

"And… they probably get their food from those little villages by the stream," Thomas pointed, almost touching Newt's hand. "So, if… something happens there…"

"Fine." Gally flipped the page, rubbing his forehead with the other hand.

But it then struck Thomas that this place might have more value than he'd thought. If they were looking for someplace safe to settle down, it would have been a risky choice -but that was not their goal. They needed a hiding place, where they could spread their campaign, and eventually the Cure. If they hid in an abandoned area —of which there must be many— near the city, they'd have access to food, water, and people. To top it off, there was a structure labeled 'Crank Palace' near the city. A good place to start, once they got the Cure.

He kept the city —Sunhaven— in mind as they continued flipping through maps. It was neither the best nor the worst place for living or for hiding, but that made it the best in its own way. WICKED wouldn't go there first when searching for them. They would need to move around a lot once they had the Cure, going to different cities to cure people and garner support, but Sunhaven would be a good starting point. That meant they would need to be secretive about it. He decided not to pass around the name or location until they got out of the facility. He picked another town —Lilia City— that they would pretend to have a secret interest in. They would use that name when whispering about their destination. It was not too far off from Sunhaven, so keeping that information from the group would not affect anything. Out loud they would speak about a third city, to either fool WICKED or pretend they thought they were fooling WICKED.

The problem was that he couldn't keep it from Newt or Minho, or at least felt like he couldn't. In truth, he didn't want to keep it from Teresa either, even though letting her know at this point made no sense. He didn't want to lie to anybody at all, but those three —two— people…

When they had flipped to a close-up of the South-Canadian border, Thomas took the opportunity. Sunhaven was on one side of the page, Lilia City on the other. He took Newt's hand, which had been lying on the table, and put it over Sunhaven. He whispered the name of the other city. Newt looked at Thomas, then at the map, nodding. Thomas pressed the hand to the page, trying to send the message. Newt looked down at the map again, and his eyes widened.

"Lilia City," Thomas repeated. He moved their hands away from the map.

Newt looked back at the map, at the indicated spot, and smiled.

Thomas held onto the hand —he had to pass the gesture off as not being a secret message— as he leaned closer to Gally, taking a book next to him and whispering 'Lilia City'. Gally nodded, without looking up from his book. Newt would pass on the message to his sister -The full message, and Sonya would have to get it to Harriet. They needed to know. Not at this moment, though —wouldn't want to make it all too obvious. For now, it would be enough to study the maps, get to know the terrain they would be facing, stealing careful glances at Sunhaven, deliberately looking long at Lilia City, and talking about how Eastern Bridge-town looked like a nice place to settle in.