The New Horizon ~ A Maze Runner Story

- 26 -

Four hours and fifty-two minutes, Thomas thought. He had counted the time since he woke up from his coma. And finally, he was admitted to leave the hospital. Pushing away those bare, opaque curtains was joyous on a whole new level. All he had to do now was get in that elevator and make his way back to the room where he would surprise his friends--
"Thomas." It was Doctor Owens. He came to a halt, his feet screeching along the tiled hospital flooring. He turned around, fear trickled down his spine--were they really about to drag him back? "Yeah?"

Owens had already made her way to Thomas. A polite grin was etched across her face and she ducked her head, shaking it slightly. "I'm sorry, I almost forgot to tell you--the machine has successfully generated a single, testable vaccine--" she lowered her voice as a male orderly passed her, escorting a patient behind him-- "it took longer than we thought; seventy hours to be exact. You were asleep while it was processing, otherwise I would have filled you in on the details earlier."
Inside, a bubble of glee was growing inside of Thomas's chest, invisibly inflating him. He felt almost childish for having been anxious seconds before. This news, it was elating. "That's amazing," he realized his words had come out louder than expected. "This is great news, seriously."

Doctor Owens' visibly agreed. She rested a hand on Thomas's shoulder, even squeezed it; an act that seemed motherly and parent-like, as if he was her son. As if she viewed him differently than her other patients. "We will find a willing volunteer to test out the vaccine tomorrow first thing in the morning."
"Please let me know what happens."
"Of course." Her tone changed--cracked even--into something tender and meaningful. "I know we can't celebrate yet, but, I'm proud. So proud."
Thomas smiled, softening at the water that glossed her eyes. "My children--well, if they were here, they'd be proud, too."

***

Thomas needed fresh air before he saw his friends. Nostalgia overwhelmed him; the thoughts of his own late loved ones taken violently by WICKED and the horrendous disease ate at him again. They would've been proud too. So, so proud. And Thomas could've saved them if the universe had only granted them more time. If they hadn't caught the Flare as soon as they had. His parents--they would still be alive. Still living, still breathing, still crying, waiting desperately that one day, their son would come home. My dad, Thomas breathed. He stuck his hands in his pant pockets, balling them in clenched fists that no one could see. And Mom . . . He only remembered them from the nightmares he dreamt, which were less than desirable memories to carry around.

But they'd be happy if they knew I'd one day cure the world . . . If this vaccine even works. Thomas inwardly scoffed; so much for the elation that had pumped through his veins only minutes before. His brain taunted him to analyze that horrible memory-dream of his Crank parents. His father's possessed, haunted eyes. The way they sparkled, sadistic and desiring harm. Even hungry, like he had already become a cannibal. His skin was nothing more than a collection of raw flesh and open, oozing sores. His hair scarce on his head; Thomas guessed he'd ripped it out. And his poor mother, waking up every morning after WICKED took Thomas away, knowing--feeling--as her brain deteriorated with every passing hour as the virus feasted away at her tissue.

Before Thomas even realized, he had stopped walking completely. He stared absently at the lit pathways with teary, fogged vision. There was absolutely no way in the forsaken, shucking world that his blood would fail him. The vaccine would work. It would! And if AFA needed more blood, he'd give it to them. Even if that meant allowing the doctors to take his life. He didn't care about himself anymore; he'd die for everyone else. Thomas visibly trembled; his fervent determination was overwhelming. He had lost far too many loved ones, and so had the world. Enough was enough.

An echoing commotion broke Thomas away from his impassioned rumination. Shouts and screams traveled through the air, resonating clearly. He turned towards the voices. Some were deep and scratchy, others were desperate and shrill. What the . . .
Stomping footsteps sounded in front of him, smashing down against the grass lawn. Twenty or so guards ran past him like a herd of bison stampeding to protect their land. One brushed past Thomas, completely uninterested in his presence.
Curiosity swept over Thomas's emotions and he wiped the tears away. Gratified that his thoughts were discontinued by whatever alarming event was taking place, he broke into a steady jog and followed safely behind the guards.

Oncoming nightfall cast an eerie silhouette around the barricade of defensive guards just outside the Entering Doors. The consistent begs for help from the people on the other side of the wall only aided to the surreality of what was taking place: people--Cranks--were breaking through the doors--an entire throng of them, using whatever they could to destroy the wall; denting it, forcing it open. Thomas heard what sounded like sledgehammers banging, large rocks being thrown, pipes clanging--anything they could collect from whatever remains were beyond AFA's barrier. Thomas stood on the tips of his toes, catching sights of men and women attempting to push their way through the thick, burly palisade of guards fighting back as forcibly as they could.

"No, no, no--bring more security. Quick!" Thomas heard a doctor yell into a radio of some sort, staring in horror of what was happening in front of him.
Caught with a sort of maddening curiosity, Thomas rushed to the doctor in a few quick strides. "E-Excuse me. What's going on?"
The doctor--who Thomas had never seen before--shook his head. Thomas thought he almost wouldn't speak. "Somehow news got out about how incredibly short the RBI's are running. AFA is limiting surgeries to only one time a week . . . Soon we'll be out completely." He shook his head, downcast. "Our association was the only hope left in this world. I'd hate to see that go."