The Fever Code (8 page)

224.10.14
|
2:34 p.m.

A few minutes later, they were sitting in a small conference room around a table with Ms. McVoy, Dr. Paige, and Mr. Ramirez, who had yet to say a single word. The chancellor had excused himself, but not before reiterating how excited he was to bring Thomas and Teresa to the next level. He assured them that Ms. McVoy would take as long as they needed to answer their questions.

The thing was, Thomas wasn't sure he could sort out his questions. After the massive scale of the cavern he'd just stood over, the small room felt almost claustrophobic. And now, gathering his thoughts—it seemed like an incredible feat.

“Okay,” McVoy said, her hands folded gracefully on the table in front of her, “as you can imagine, what you just saw is the culmination of several years' worth of developments. I couldn't possibly go over everything in one sitting. But let's do this: ask me your questions, and let's see where that takes us. How does that sound?”

Thomas and Teresa both nodded.

“Great. Teresa, why don't you go first?”

“What
is
that place?” she asked, the first and most obvious question.

McVoy nodded as if expecting those exact words. “What you saw is one of two natural caverns we found in this area that we then expanded significantly to house what we plan to build inside.”

“And what's that?” Thomas asked.

“A maze. Two mazes, actually. Like I said, there are two caverns.”

“Why?” Teresa asked. “Why in the world are you building two mazes?”

“As a testing ground. As a controlled environment to stimulate a long list of reactions, both physical and emotional, from our test subjects. We couldn't risk these locations being in the open air, and not just because of the obvious reasons like the decimated landscape and the potential for Crank invasions. The world is a dangerous, dangerous place at the moment. But just as importantly, we need a closed testing area so we can effectively control the stimuli.”

Thomas heard all this but found it hard to believe. Or maybe just too much to process at once.

“Thomas?” McVoy said. “Do you want to ask the next question?”

“I…” He searched for words. “It's just so crazy. A maze?
Two
mazes? What are you going to test inside them?
Who
are you going to test?”

“It's complicated, like I said. But basically we need a large-scale environment that we can control with no outside influence. Our doctors and Psychs think this is a perfect environment to get what we need.” She leaned back and sighed. “But I'm rambling. The simple answer is this: We'll be continuing to do what we've already begun. We'll be testing immunes, studying their brain function and biology, figuring out how they can live with the Flare virus without succumbing to its effects. In short, we're trying to find a cure, Thomas. We're trying to prevent all this unnecessary death that now surrounds us.”

“What did you mean about us helping you to build the place?” Teresa asked.

“Exactly that,” McVoy replied with a genuine smile. “We've decided to use you and Thomas, as well as two other children your age, to assist us. Perhaps others. But the four of you are just so…beyond what we'd expected from people so young. We're going to utilize that. As I've said before, we're pragmatic people with limited resources. We don't plan to waste your talents. The planning, design, execution of these mazes…it's all going to be tricky.”

Thomas's shortage of words continued. He just sat there, stunned. Teresa was quiet as well, maybe feeling the same.

“You do
want
to help us, don't you?” McVoy asked.

Dr. Paige, who had been quiet throughout the afternoon, chimed in here. “It's an honor and a fantastic opportunity, you guys. I know things are dire in the world right now, but this project could even be fun for you. A challenge. We have a lot of faith in you both. And in the others as well. Aris and Rachel are their names.”

After a long silence, McVoy said, “Well? What do you think?”

Thomas knew they had no choice in the matter. And that it might be a lot of hard work. But the whole idea was exciting. And something
new
to take up his days.

“Of course,” he said, barely able to contain his happiness.

“Yes,” Teresa added, sounding more serious.

McVoy stood up, then shook both Thomas's and Teresa's hands. “This will be a fun project. You're becoming more a part of WICKED every day!” She said it as if it were the biggest compliment she could give.

As they left the conference room and headed back to their rooms, winding through the hallways, stairs, and elevators of the complex, McVoy's parting words echoed through Thomas's mind.
A part of WICKED.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Dr. Paige told Thomas that he had the rest of the day off to rest, relax, and think about things. He lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. What he really wanted to do, though, was hang out with Teresa, to talk through it all. His mind spun with the life-changing things he'd heard and seen that day, and he needed Teresa's help to process it all.

He looked at his door. It was closed, as always. And for as long as he could remember, it automatically locked upon closing. But he couldn't remember the last time he'd tried it. For months, maybe even a year or two, he'd just always assumed it was locked and didn't bother. Well, now he had a reason to give it a shot.

He rolled out of bed and went to the door. Slowly, he reached out, as if it might electrocute him upon touch. He grabbed the handle and turned.

The door popped open.

Thomas pushed it closed and ran back to his bed, his heart thumping in his ears. He looked around, wondered about the many, many ways they kept tabs on him. Cameras, microphones, sensors, who knew what else—some were in plain sight, some he couldn't see at all. The fear he suddenly felt wasn't rational—all he'd done was open the door a crack and then close it. WICKED had treated him well, for the most part. He hadn't even seen Randall in a long time. Why the sudden chill icing his bones?

They watched his every move—he was sure of it. Maybe that was why they'd stopped locking the doors. For all he knew, they wanted him to leave, to observe him, to see what happened. Or it was possible that his obedience in staying put all these years was what had ensured his rise to the top along with Teresa and those other two kids. Could that be it?

It took a while, but his heart finally calmed, and the sweat that had dampened his face and arms evaporated. He stared at the door, pretending, even to himself, that what would happen next was actually up for debate. It wasn't, and he knew it. Something would have to strike him dead to prevent him from exploring.

But he had to be smart about it. He would wait until nighttime.

The fear turned to pure anticipation.

The hours dragged.

He desperately wanted to sleep so that he'd be rested for his planned excursion, but it took forever to finally doze off, and then dinner came and ruined it. He ate, rested, finally fell asleep again.

He came awake with a start to a darkened room. Worried he'd wasted the entire night, he quickly checked the time—just a few minutes past midnight. He took a quick shower to wash away the grogginess, got dressed, then found himself standing in front of his door again, hesitant, full of doubts. He could ruin everything by wandering the hallways. Ruin the chance to work on WICKED's crazy, insane project to build giant mazes underground. Ruin his chance to be with Teresa and others.

He sighed, angry at the dent in his enthusiasm. Maybe there was a time mechanism and the door
would
be locked. Oh well. They weren't going to punish him for opening a stupid door, or even for venturing into the hallway. He could always take a peek and then come back if it felt wrong.

Something clicked and then the door swung several inches toward him.

At first he didn't understand what had happened—he actually looked down at his hands to see if they'd acted on their own and turned the handle. But they were at his sides, palms sweaty. No, someone had opened the door from the other side.

He leaned his head around the edge of the frame and his heart leapt when he saw a complete stranger staring back at him. A boy about his age. No,
not
a stranger. The kid just looked different because his blond hair wasn't covered with a bandage and he was a little older.

“Hey, I'm Newt,” the boy whispered. “And I know bloody well who you are. Which is why we've decided to finally snag you. Come on, I want to show you something.”

224.10.15
|
12:58 a.m.

Thomas had never had to think so fast in his life. A thousand things went through his mind in the two or three seconds before he answered Newt. Should he actually go with the boy or slam the door in his face? How could Newt have possibly showed up on the very night that Thomas had discovered his door unlocked and planned to go out on his own? In a place like WICKED, he didn't believe in coincidences—anything might be a test of some sort. What did this kid want to show him? Was it a trap? Should he invite him into his room and grill him about it? What if—

“Okay,” he finally said, stepping into the hallway. He closed the door behind him, then quickly checked to make sure it didn't lock on him. It didn't. He turned to Newt and asked, “Can we take Teresa with us? She's right next to me.”

Newt huffed. “This isn't a slumber party.” But then he grinned mischievously. “I actually woke her up before coming to you. She's getting dressed. Nab her and let's go. We only have an hour or two.”

Thomas stepped over to 31K and opened the door, still bewildered. None of the doors were locked? Really? When he stepped inside, Teresa was sitting at her desk, fully dressed. She stood up immediately, looking battle ready until it registered that her intruder was Thomas.

“What…,” she started, but didn't finish. “Do you know…” That didn't get completed, either.

“All I know is there's a kid named Newt in the hall,” Thomas said to Teresa, “and he says he has something to show us. And I think we should go.” She was by his side and opening the door before he could finish the last sentence.

“Okay, then,” he said as he followed her into the hallway.

“Hello again,” she said to Newt, who responded with a friendly nod.

“We've heard about the two of you,” the new boy said, “and those kids Aris and Rachel.” If it weren't for the kind look on his face, Thomas would have been suspicious of his direct words.

“What's going on?” Thomas asked. “Are you sure this is okay? What if we get caught?”

“Don't be such a worrywart,” Newt replied. “If they catch us, what're they gonna do? Lock you up in your room?”

Thomas knew exactly what they could do—take away the new opportunity with the mazes. He tried to communicate that to Teresa with his eyes. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

“Good point,” Teresa said, eyeing Thomas back with a look defying him to challenge her. “Let's go.” She paused. “Wait, where are we going again?”

Newt laughed through his nose. “First things first. Let's meet Alby and Minho.”

With those words, Thomas couldn't say no.

Sweat trickled down the back of Thomas's neck as Newt led them through various halls, through doors, up and down stairwells. Who needed a maze when their very complex served as one? Thomas expected Dr. Leavitt or someone worse to pop out at any minute, catching them in the act. Things had been looking up that day—he really didn't want to ruin it. But then again, he was having the time of his life. It felt good to take a risk, step out on a ledge.

They ended up in a dimly lit hall in the basement, where the last door had a sign that said
MAINTENANCE
.

“This is our favorite hiding spot,” Newt said, pride in his voice. He opened the door and ushered them into a large dusty room filled with wooden tables and cleaning equipment, boxes, a million other odds and ends.

“What's up, gents?”

The greeting came from Minho—the boy Thomas had met in the hallway during the crazy day of the implants. He seemed a lot happier now than he had then, screaming and yelling like the world had come to an end. Thomas wondered if he even remembered the ordeal.

“Would you stop saying
gents
?” another boy said, dark-skinned and older, with the wisest eyes Thomas had ever seen. “It's not funny, and it's gettin' on my nerves.”

The rebuke didn't faze Minho in the least. He walked up, a huge smile on his face, and hugged Thomas, then Teresa, the last thing either of them had expected. But Thomas had to admit it felt pretty good. Dr. Paige might be a nice lady, but he hadn't felt this kind of warmth in years. Maybe not since he'd said goodbye to his mom.

Teresa seemed as stunned by the situation as he did, but she also had a small grin on her face. They were having
fun.

“You two seem cooler than I thought,” Minho said as he stepped back. “I was expecting a couple of greasy-haired, bucktoothed weirdos quoting Shakespeare and writing out math problems on your hands. You actually look half normal!”

“Thanks?” Thomas said it as a question.

The other boy stepped forward and pushed Minho out of the way. “I'm Alby,” he said. “Good to meet you guys. Minho actually for once has a good point. With all the rumors about you highfalutin folks, we didn't know what to expect. And that's why we brought you here today. To check you out. It's nice to see you're not too bad, by the looks of it.”

It was Teresa's turn to say thanks with a question mark. That made everyone laugh and broke the ice a bit.

“So,” Thomas said, not sure where to begin, “how long have you guys been sneaking out like this? It's obviously not the first time.”

“Nope,” Alby replied. “It gets so boring following all their rules, doing everything they tell us to. And yeah, they might know what we're doing—we're not idiots. But hey, until they actually come out and tell us to stop, we ain't stopping.” He turned to Minho and Newt. “Am I right, guys?”

Minho whooped a cheer and Newt gave a bored thumbs-up.

“What are all these rumors about us that you guys keep bringing up?” Teresa asked. “And why are we isolated from you? It seems like you three have known each other for years. Thomas and I
just
met.” She looked at him, and something in her eyes said she'd almost mentioned the mazes but caught herself at the last second. That the mazes should be their secret for now.

Newt, sitting on a stool by the wall, answered her questions. “Honestly, we don't know what's different about you and those other two. The rest of us have been sharing a cafeteria, going to the same classes, and all that for over a year. Way I see it, you're either way smarter or way dumber than us.”

“Way smarter, obviously,” Teresa said. Her sassy reply threw everyone off kilter for a beat, but then Alby clapped and laughed, and the ice broke just a little more.

“Man, I like you guys,” he said.

“Look,” Minho said, “as much as I'd like to say we're just being nice inviting you down here, I'm guessing you know we have a reason.”

“Of course,” Teresa quickly answered.

Minho nodded, an appraising look in his eyes. “Good. Good. We have ideas. Plans. Nothing solid. Nothing too crazy. But information is king, and we feel like we're in the dark not knowing you two. Though it'll be a while before there's complete trust. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough,” Thomas replied. “We'll tell you what we know if you tell us what you know.”

Minho smiled. “Nice. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. There'll be plenty of other chances to talk. First we wanna just get to know you, maybe show you around a bit. Have some fun. The serious stuff can come in a few weeks or so. When we know you better. Sound good?”

Thomas and Teresa looked at each other and shrugged. They both turned back and said yes.

Newt hopped off his stool and went to the door. “Let's get out of here before we get cabin fever,” he said. “I know a good place to start their tour—let's go show them Group B.”