Brenda smiled and moved toward Thomas, then tripped on something and stumbled forward. She caught
the bed with her right hand, but she fell in such a way that the syringe’s nozzle landed on the forearm of
the guard gripping Thomas’s wrist. She instantly pushed the trigger with her thumb, releasing a quick,
sharp hiss, before he jerked himself away.
“What the hell!” the man shouted, but his eyes were already glazed.
Thomas acted instantly. Now free from those iron fists, he pushed down on the bed and swung his legs
in an arc toward the female guard, who was just coming to her senses after a brief moment of frozen
shock. One foot connected with her Launcher and the other with her shoulder. She let out a yell, which
was closely followed by the smack of her head hitting the floor.
Thomas scrambled after the Launcher, grabbed it before it slid out of reach and aimed it at the woman,
who was holding her head in her hands. Brenda had run around the bed and grabbed the man’s weapon,
and she pointed it at his limp body.
Thomas gasped for air, his chest heaving as adrenaline throbbed through his body. He hadn’t felt so
good in weeks. “I knew you—”
Before he could finish, Brenda fired her Launcher.
A high-pitched sound pierced the air, increasing in volume for a split second before the gun discharged
and kicked, making Brenda jerk backward. One of the shiny grenades shot out, slammed into the woman’s
chest and exploded, sending tendrils of lightning arcing across her body. She began to twitch
uncontrollably.
Thomas stared, stunned at what the Launcher did to a person and amazed that Brenda had shot it without
hesitation. If he had needed further proof that Brenda wasn’t totally committed to WICKED, he’d just seen
it. He looked at her.
She returned his gaze, the slightest of smiles on her face. “I’ve been wanting to do something like that
for a long time. Good thing I convinced Janson to assign me to you for this procedure.” She bent over and
took the unconscious man’s key card, slipped it into her pocket. “This’ll get us in anywhere.”
Thomas had to resist the urge to pull her into a hug.
“Come on,” he said. “We have to get Newt and Minho. Then everybody else.”
They sprinted through a couple of twists and turns in the hallways, Brenda leading. It reminded Thomas of
the time she’d led him through the underground tunnels in the Scorch. He urged her to hurry—he knew that
more guards could show up at any second.
They reached a door, and Brenda swiped the key card to open it; a brief hiss sounded, and then the slab
of metal swung open. Thomas burst through with Brenda close on his heels.
The Rat Man was sitting in a chair but sprang to his feet, his expression quickly twisting to a look of
horror. “What in God’s name are you doing?”
Brenda had already fired two grenades at the guards. A man and a woman dropped to the ground,
convulsing in a cloud of smoke and tiny lightning bolts. Newt and Minho tackled the third guard; Minho
grabbed his weapon.
Thomas trained his Launcher on Janson and put his finger on the trigger. “Give me your key card, then
get on the ground, hands on your head.” His voice was steady but his heart was racing.
“This is complete lunacy,” Janson said. He handed his card to Thomas. He spoke quietly, seeming
amazingly calm under the circumstances. “You have zero chance of getting out of this complex. More
guards are already on their way.”
Thomas knew their odds were bad, but it was all they had. “After what we’ve been through, this is
nothing.” He smiled as he realized it was true. “Thanks for the training. Now, another word and you’ll get
to experience—how did you put it? ‘The worst five minutes of your life’?”
“How can—”
Thomas pulled the trigger. The high-pitched sound filled the room, followed by the launch of a grenade.
It hit the man’s chest and exploded in a brilliant display of electricity. He screamed as he fell to the
ground, convulsing, smoke streaming off his hair and clothing. The room filled with an awful smell—a
stench that reminded Thomas of the Scorch, when Minho was struck by lightning.
“That can’t feel good,” Thomas said to his friends. He sounded so calm to his own ears that it disturbed
him. As he watched their nemesis twitch, he was almost ashamed for feeling no guilt. Almost.
“It supposedly won’t kill him,” Brenda said.
“That’s a shame,” Minho replied. He stood after tying up the uninjured guard with his belt. “The world
would’ve been better off.”
Thomas turned his attention from the twitching man at his feet. “We’re leaving. Now.”
“I’ll bloody drink to that,” Newt said.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Minho added.
They all turned to look at Brenda. She lifted her Launcher in her arms and nodded. She looked ready
for a fight.
“I hate these people just as much as you,” she said. “I’m in.”
For the second time in the last few days, Thomas was filled with that foreign feeling of happiness.
Brenda was back. He glanced at Janson. The crackling static was beginning to die. The man’s eyes were
closed and he’d finally stopped moving, but he was still breathing.
“I don’t know how long a blast from one of these lasts,” Brenda said, “and he’s definitely going to
wake up angry. We better get out of here.”
“What’s the plan?” Newt asked.
Thomas didn’t have a clue. “We’ll make it up as we go.”
“Jorge’s a pilot,” Brenda offered. “If we can somehow make it to the hangar, to his Berg …”
Before anyone could respond, shouts and footsteps sounded in the hall.
“They’re coming,” Thomas said. The reality of their situation hit him again—no one was going to let
them just waltz out of the building. Who knew how many guards they’d have to get past.
Minho ran to the door and took a stance right next to it. “They’ll all have to come through right here.”
The sounds from the hallway were getting louder—the guards were close.
“Newt,” Thomas said. “You get on the other side of the doorway. Brenda and I’ll shoot the first couple
who come through. You guys catch the rest from the sides, then get out into the hallway. We’ll be right
behind you.”
They took their positions.
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