Thomas could only nod.
Minho’s shoulders slumped, and his eyes fell to the floor. “How did the world get so shucked?” The words barely came out, low and full of pain.
“I’m sorry,” Newt said, and there were tears streaming down his face. “I’m… I’m going to shoot if you don’t go. Now.”
Thomas couldn’t take it for one more second. He grabbed Brenda by the hand, then Minho by the upper arm, started pulling them along toward the exit, stepping over bodies and winding his way through the blankets. Minho didn’t resist, and Thomas didn’t dare look at him, and could only hope that Jorge was following along. He just kept going, across the lobby, to the doors and through, outside into the Central Zone, into the chaotic crowds of Cranks.
Away from Newt. Away from his friend and his friend’s diseased brain.
CHAPTER 40
There was no sign of the guards who’d escorted them there, but there were even more Cranks than when they’d entered the bowling alley. And most of them seemed to be waiting for the newcomers. They’d probably heard the sounds of the Launcher firing and the screams of the guy who’d been hit. Or maybe someone had come out to tell them. Whatever the case, Thomas felt as if every person looking at him were past the Gone and hungry for human lunch.
“Look at these jokers,” someone called out.
“Yeah, ain’t they pretty!” another answered. “Come to play with the Cranks. Or are you on your way to joining us?”
Thomas kept moving, making his way toward the arched entrance to the Central Zone. He’d let go of Minho’s arm but still held Brenda’s hand. They marched through the crowd, and Thomas finally had to stop meeting peoples’ gazes. All he saw was madness and bloodlust and jealousy carved onto countless bleeding and mangled faces. He wanted to run but had the sense that if he did the whole crowd would attack like a pack of wolves.
They reached the arch, went through it without hesitating. Thomas led them down the main street, crossing through the rings of dilapidated houses. The ruckus of the Zone seemed to have started up again now that they were gone, and eerie sounds of crazed laughter and wild screaming followed the group on their trek. The farther they got from the noise, the less tense Thomas felt. He didn’t dare speak to ask Minho how he was. Plus, he knew the answer.
They were just passing another set of broken homes when he heard a couple of shouts ring out, and then the sound of footsteps.
“Run!” someone yelled. “Run!”
Thomas came to a stop just as the two guards who’d abandoned them came careering around the corner. They didn’t slow but ran toward the farthest ring of the town and the Berg. Neither of them had their Launchers anymore.
“Hey!” Minho shouted. “Get back here!”
The guard with the mustache looked back. “I said run, you idiots! Come on!”
Thomas didn’t take time to think. He sprinted after them, knowing it was the only choice. Minho, Jorge, and Brenda followed close on his heels. He looked back to see a cluster of Cranks chasing them, at least a dozen. And they seemed frantic, as if a switch had been flipped and every one of them had reached the Gone at once.
“What happened?” Minho asked through heavy breaths.
“They dragged us away from the Zone!” the shorter man yelled. “I swear to God they were gonna eat us. We barely escaped.”
“Don’t stop running!” the other guard added. The two of them suddenly peeled off in another direction, down a hidden alley.
Thomas and his friends continued toward the exit leading to their Berg. Catcalls and whistles rose from behind them, and Thomas risked another glimpse back for a better look at their pursuers. Torn clothes, matted hair, muddied faces. But they’d gained no ground.
“They can’t catch us!” he yelled, just as the exterior gate came into view ahead of them. “Keep going, we’re almost there!”
Even so, Thomas ran faster than he’d ever run in his life-pushed harder even than he ever had in the Maze. The thought of getting caught by those Cranks filled him with horror. The group made it to the gate and passed through it without pausing. They didn’t bother to close it, just ran straight for the Berg, its hatch opening as Jorge pushed the buttons on his pad.
They reached the ramp and Thomas ran up it and hurled himself inside. He turned to see his friends sliding to the floor around him, the ramp squealing as it started moving upward to close. The pack of Cranks chasing them would never make it in time, but they kept running, screaming and shouting nonsense. One of them reached down and picked up a rock, hurled it. The thing fell twenty feet short.
The Berg rose into the air just as the door sealed shut.
Jorge hovered the ship just a few dozen feet in the air while they gathered their wits. The Cranks were no threat from the ground-none of them had weapons. Not the ones who’d followed them outside the wall, at any rate.
Thomas stood with Minho and Brenda at one of the viewing ports and watched the deliriously angry crowd below. It was hard to believe that what he was seeing was real.
“Look at them down there,” Thomas said. “Who knows what they were doing a few months ago. Living in a high-rise, maybe, working at some office. Now they’re chasing people like wild animals.”
“I’ll tell you what they were doing a few months ago,” Brenda answered. “They were miserable, scared to death of catching the Flare, knowing it’s inevitable.”
Minho threw his hands up. “How can you worry about them? Was I alone just now? With my friend? His name is Newt.”
“Nothing we could’ve done,” Jorge called from the cockpit. Thomas winced at the lack of compassion.
Minho turned to face him. “Just shut up and fly, shuck-face.”
“I’ll do my best,” Jorge said with a sigh. He fiddled with some instruments and got the Berg moving.
Minho slumped to the floor, almost like he’d melted. “What happens when he runs out of Launcher grenades?” he asked no one in particular, looking at an empty spot on the wall.
Thomas had no idea how to respond, no way to express the sorrow that filled his chest. He sank down next to Minho on the ground and sat there without saying a word as the Berg rose higher and flew away from the Crank Palace.
Newt was gone.
CHAPTER 41
Eventually, Thomas and Minho got themselves up and went to sit on a couch in the common area while Brenda helped Jorge in the cockpit.
With time to think, the full reality of what had happened hit Thomas like a falling boulder. Ever since Thomas had entered the Maze, Newt had been there for him. Thomas hadn’t realized just how much of a friend he’d become until now. His heart hurt.
He tried to remind himself that Newt wasn’t dead. But in some ways this was worse. In most ways. He’d fallen down the slope of insanity, and he was surrounded by bloodthirsty Cranks. And the prospect of never seeing him again was almost unbearable.
Minho finally spoke in a lifeless voice. “Why did he do that? Why wouldn’t he come back with us? Why would he point that weapon at my face?”
“He never would’ve pulled the trigger,” Thomas offered, though he doubted it was the truth.
Minho shook his head. “You saw his eyes when they changed. Complete lunacy. I’d be fried if I’d kept pushing. He’s crazy, man. He’s gone wacker from top to bottom.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing.”
“Come again?” Minho asked as he turned to Thomas.
“Maybe when their minds go, they’re not themselves anymore. Maybe the Newt we know is gone and he’s not aware of what’s happening to him. So really, he’s not suffering.”
Minho almost looked offended by the notion. “Nice try, slinthead, but I don’t believe it. I think he’ll always be there just enough to be screaming on the inside, deranged and suffering every shuck second of it. Tormented like a dude buried alive.”