The boy’s bravery solidified something in Thomas’s heart. He loved the kid. He loved him as if they had the same mum.
That can’t be good. If something has a nickname, that means it’s big and being talked about. Not good at all.
He wanted to be a Runner. He would be a Runner. Deep inside he knew he had to go out there, into the Maze. Despite everything he’d learned and witnessed firsthand, it called to him as much as hunger or thirst.
Well, keep lookin’ for it. Strain your mind, spend your free time wanderin’ your thoughts, and think about this place. Delve inside that brain of yours, and seek it out. Try, for all our sakes.” “I will.” Thomas closed his eyes, started searching the darkness of his mind. “Not now, you dumb shuck.” Newt laughed. “I just meant do it from now on.
Great, we’re all bloody inspired. -Newt.
You’re welcome. I was just trying to help.′ Thomas felt like kicking him in the face.
Sample after sample. Class after class. Puzzle after puzzle. Day after day. Month after month.
We were unable to discover either a vaccine or a treatment for the Flare.
I don’t know how history will judge the actions of WICKED, but I state here for the record that the organization only ever had one goal, and that was to preserve the human race. And in this last act, we have done just that. As we tried to instill in each of our subjects over and over, WICKED is good.
There’s more of them up there!” Thomas screamed in his ear from behind. “You have to stop! They’ll kill you! They’ll kill all of us!
It was such an odd thing to be fighting against something so violently and yet wanting it to happen so completely.
No. Just thinking about how much my life sucks.” “Mine does, too. Sucks big-time. But I’m glad I’m with you.
What’s there to be scared about? A post-apocalyptic city with no government or security, surrounded by a desert and swarming with Cranks. I mean, come on. Don’t be a sissy.
Her sweet little cry like that of angel among demons.
She’s immune to the Flare. Use her. Do it before the crazy people find you.
The kind of noise that made your skin crawl and made you press your hands to your ears and pray it went away.
He’d been at the Glade for roughly twenty-four hours. One full day. And look at all the things that had happened. All the terrible things. Surely it could only get better.
Look,” Thomas said, pointing down the line of stacks they’d formed, confused, but happy that the letters were so obvious. “It spells FLOAT and then it spells CAT.” “Float cat?” Newt asked. “Doesn’t sound like a bloody rescue code to me.
Thomas had never heard such arrogance from her. She was either a really good actress or had started going crazy. Gained a split personality or two.
All of them, you slinthead shuck-faced piece of klunk.” Minho smiled.