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THE

SCORCH

TRIALS
JAMES
DASHNER

Delacorte Press

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the
product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2010 by James Dashner
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of
Random House Childrens Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark
of Random House, Inc.
Visit us on the Web! www.randomhouse.com/teens
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at
www.randomhouse.com/teachers
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Book design by [tk]
Printed in the United States of America
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Random House Childrens Books supports the First Amendment and
celebrates the right to read.

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CHAPTER 1
She spoke to him before the world fell apart.
Hey, are you still asleep?
Thomas shifted in his bed, felt a darkness around him like air
turned solid, pressing in. At first he panicked, his eyes snapping
open as he imagined himself back in the Box, that horrible cube
of cold metal that had delivered him to the Glade and the Maze.
But there was a soft light coming through windows. Lumps of
dim shadow throughout the huge room. Bunk beds. Dressers.
The soft sighs and gurgly snores of boys deep in slumber.
Relief filled him. He was safe now, rescued and delivered to
this dormitory. No more worries. No more Grievers. No more
death.
Tom?
A voice in his head. A girl. Not audible, not visible. But he
heard it all the same, and could never have explained how it
worked to anyone.
Exhaling a deep breath, he relaxed into his pillow, his
razor-edged nerves settling down from that fleeting moment of
terror. He spoke back, creating the words with his thoughts.
Teresa? What time is it?
No idea, she replied. But I cant sleep. Probably dozed for an hour
or so. Maybe more. I was hoping you were awake to keep me company.
Thomas tried not to smile. Even though she wouldnt be
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able to see it, it was embarrassing all the same. Didnt give me much
choice in the matter, did you? Kind of hard to sleep when someone talks
directly into your skull.
Waah, waah. Go back to bed, then.
No, Im good. He stared at the bottom of the bunk above
himfeatureless and darkly fuzzy in the shadowwhere
Minho was currently breathing like a guy with ungodly
amounts of phlegm lodged in his throat. Whatve you been
thinking about?
What do you think? Somehow she projected a jab of
cynicism into the words. I keep seeing Grievers in my mind. Their
disgusting skin and blubbery bodies, all those metal arms and spikes. It
was way too close for comfort,Tom. Howre we gonna get something like
that out of our heads?
Thomas knew what he thought: That those images would
never leave. That theyd be haunted by the horrible things that
had happened in the Maze for the rest of their lives.That most if
not all of them would have major psychological problems.
Maybe even go completely nutso.
And over it all, he had one image burned in his memories as
strongly as a brand from a searing hot iron. His friend Chuck,
stabbed in the chest, bleeding, dying as Thomas held him.
That would always be there for Thomas. He knew it. But
what he said back to Teresa was: Itll go away. Just takes a little time,
thats all.
Youre so full of it, she said.
I know. How ridiculous was it that he loved hearing her say
something like that to him? That her sarcasm meant things were
going to be okay? Youre an idiot, he told himself, then hoped she
hadnt heard that thought.
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I hated how they separated me from you guys last night, she said.
Thomas could understand why they had, though. She was
the only girl and they were a bunch of teenage boysa bunch
of shanks they didnt trust yet. Guess they were protecting you.
Yeah, I guess. Melancholy seeped into his brain with her
words, stuck to them like syrup. But it sucks being alone after all we
went through.
Whered they take you, anyway? She sounded so sad, he almost
wanted to get up to search for her, but he knew better.
Just to the other side of that big common room where we ate last
night. Its a small room with a few bunks. Im pretty sure they locked
the door when they left.
See, told ya they wanted to protect you. Then he quickly added,
Not that you need protecting. Id put my money on you against at least
half these shanks.
Only half?
Okay, three-quarters. Including me.
A long stretch of silence followed, though somehow
Thomas could sense Teresas presence. He felt her. It was almost
like how, even though he couldnt see Minho, he knew his friend
lay only a few feet above him. And it wasnt just the snoring.
When someone is close by, you just know it.
Despite all the morbid reminders of the last few weeks,
Thomas was surprisingly calm, and the weighty enticement of
sleep pulled at him. His eyes had closed at some point, though he
didnt remember it happening. Darkness settled on his world
again. But she was there, next to him in so many ways.
Almost . . . touching.
He had no concept of time passing while in that state. Half
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asleep, half enjoying her presence and the thought that theyd
been rescued from that horrible place. That they were safe, that
he and Teresa could get to know each other all over again. That
life could be good.
Blissful sleep. Hazy darkness.Warmth. A physical glow in his
body. Almost floating.
The world seemed to fade away. All became numb and
sweet. And the darkness, somehow comforting.
Laterhow much later he had no ideaeverything
changed.
Tom, somethings wrong.
That was how it started. He heard her say those three words,
but it seemed from far away, as if they were spoken down a long
and cluttered tunnel. His deep sleep had become a viscous
liquid, thick and sticky, trapping him. He became aware of
himself but realized he was gone from the world, entombed by
exhaustion. It might take the clanging of giant bells or a bucket
of icy water for him to ever wake up.
Thomas!
She screamed it. A piercing rattle in his head. He felt the first
trickle of fear, but it was more like a dream. His body needed
sleep. And they were safe now, nothing to worry about anymore.
Yeah, it had to be a dream.Teresa was fine, they were all fine. He
pushed it away, let himself drown in slumber.
Other sounds tried to sneak their way into his consciousness.
Thumps.The clang of metal against metal. Something shattered.
Boys shouting. More like the echo of shouts, very distant, muted.
Then they became more like screams. Unearthly, unspeakable
cries of anguish. But again, distant. As if hed been wrapped in a
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thick cocoon of dark velvet and bad dreams were trying to break
their way through, invade his mind.
Thomas finally felt alarmed. This wasnt right. Teresa had
called for him, told him something was wrong! He fought the
deep sleep that had consumed him, clawed at the heavy weight
pinning him from awareness. He had to fight his physical self,
refuse the appealing temptations to stay inert.
Wake up! he yelled at himself. Wake up!
Something disappeared from inside him. A presence, a lump
of feeling, a weight that had been bleeding through his every
inch. There one instant, gone the next. He felt as if a major
organ had just been ripped from his body.
It was her. She was gone.
Teresa! he screamed out with his mind. Teresa! Are you there?
She didnt respond, and he no longer felt that comforting
sense of her closeness. He called her name again, then again, as
he continued to struggle internally, thumping his brain with
mental fists to wake up.
Finally, reality swept in, washed away the darkness, woke
him up. Engulfed in terror now, he opened his eyes and shot to a
sitting position on his bed, scooted out until he got his feet
under him and stood up. Looked around.
Everything had gone crazy.
The other Gladers in the room were running around,
pointing this way and that, shouting. And terrible, horrible, awful sounds filled the air, like the wretched squeals of animals being tortured and burned. There was Frypan, pointing out a
window, his face pale. Newt and Minho running to the door.
Winston, hands held up to his frightened, acne-plagued face like
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hed just seen a flesh-eating zombie. Others stumbling over each


other to look out the different windows, but keeping their distance from the glass. Achingly, Thomas realized he didnt even
know most of the names of the twenty boys whod survived the
Maze, an odd thought to have in the middle of all that chaos.
Something at the corner of his eye made him turn to look
toward the wall.What he saw there immediately wiped away any
sense of the peace and safety hed felt as he and Teresa had
conversed in the night. Made him doubt that such emotions
could even exist in the world in which he now stood.
Three feet from his bed, draped with colorful curtains, a
window looked out into a bright, blinding light. The glass was
broken, jagged shards leaning against crisscrossed steel bars. A
man stood on the other side; his bloody hands gripped the bars.
His eyes were wide and bloodshot, filled with madness. Sores
and scars covered his thin, sunburnt face. He had no hair, only
diseased splotches of what looked like greenish moss. Something
had torn a vicious slit in his right cheek;Thomas could see teeth
through the raw, festering gap. Pink saliva dribbled in swaying
lines from the mans chin.
Im a Crank! the horror of a man yelled. Im a bloody
Crank!
And then he started screaming two words over and over and
over, spit flying with every shriek.
Kill me! Kill me! Kill me! . . .

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CHAPTER 2
A hand slammed down on Thomass shoulder from behind; he
cried out and spun around to see Minho there, looking past
Thomas at the maniac screaming through the window.
Theyre everywhere, Minho said. His voice had a gloom
to it that perfectly matched how Thomas felt. It seemed as if
everything theyd dared hope for the previous night was a
shimmering mirage, now dissolved to nothing. And theres no
sign of those shanks who rescued us, he added.
Thomas had known much of fear and terror the last few
weeks. Shocking even himself, he quickly adapted to the present
and set aside that small part of him that wanted to jump back
into his bed and bawl his eyes out. The screams and wails from
outside continued to spook the air.
Have any of them gotten in yet? he asked, a strange calm
washing over him. Do all the windows have these bars?
Minho nodded toward one of the many windows lining the
walls of the long rectangular room. Yeah. It was too dark to
notice them last night, especially with those stupid frilly curtains.
But Im sure glad for em.
Thomas looked at the Gladers around them, some running
from window to window to get a look outside, others huddling
in small groups to discuss the madness. Everyone wore a look of
half disbelief, half terror. Wheres Newt?
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Right here.
Thomas turned to see the older boy, not knowing how hed
missed him. Whats goin on?
You think I have a bloody clue? Bunch of crazies want to
eat us for breakfast, by the looks of it. We need to find another
room, have a Gathering.All this noise is driving nails through my
buggin skull.
Thomas nodded absently; he agreed with the plan but
hoped Newt and Minho would take care of it. He was aching to
make contact with Teresa, trying to suppress the memory of
her presence disappearing right after shed warned him
something was wrong. Hoping it had just been part of a dream,
a hallucination from the drug of deep and exhausted slumber.
Newt and Minho moved away, calling out and waving their
arms to collect Gladers.Thomas took a tremulous glance back at
the shredded madman at the window, then looked away
immediately, wishing he hadnt reminded his brain of the blood
and scars and torn flesh, the insane eyes, the hysterical screaming.
Kill me! Kill me! Kill me!
Thomas stumbled to the farthest wall, leaned heavily against it.
Teresa, he called out with his mind. Teresa. Can you hear me?
He waited, closing his eyes to concentrate on the blackness
he saw when he did so. Reaching out with invisible hands,
trying to grasp some trace of her. Nothing. Not even a passing
shadow or brush of feeling, much less words of response.
Teresa, he said more urgently, clenching his teeth with the
effort. Where are you? What happened?
Nothing. His heart seemed to slow to almost no beat, and he

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felt like hed swallowed a big hairy lump of cotton. Something


had happened to her.
He opened his eyes to see the Gladers gathered around the
green-painted door that led to the common area where theyd
eaten pizza the night before. Minho was jerking on the round
brass handle to no avail. Locked.
The only other door was to a shower and locker room, from
which no other exits existed. There was that, and the windows.
All with those metal bars.Thank goodness. Each one had raging
lunatics screaming and yelling on the other side.
As much as it hurt, and even though worry ate at him like
spilled acid in his veins,Thomas gave up momentarily on trying
to contact Teresa and joined the other Gladers. Newt was having
a go at the door now, with the same useless result.
Its locked, he muttered when he finally gave up, his arms
falling weakly to his sides.
Really, genius? Minho said, his powerful arms folded and
tensed, veins bulging all over the place. Thomas thought for a
split second he could actually see movement as blood pumped
through them. No wonder you were named after Isaac
Newtonsuch amazing ability to think.
Newt didnt seem in the mood. Or maybe hed just learned
long ago to ignore Minhos smart-aleck remarks.Lets break this
bloody handle off. He looked around as if he expected
someone to hand him a big sledgehammer.
I wish those shuck . . . Cranks would shut up! Minho
yelled, turning to glower at the closest one, a woman even more
hideous-looking than the man Thomas had seen upon waking

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up. A bleeding slash crossed her face, ending in a massive wound


on the side of her head.
Cranks? Frypan repeated. The hairy cook had been silent
until then, barely noticeable. Thomas thought he looked even
more frightened than when theyd been about to battle the
Grievers to escape the Maze. Maybe this was worse.When theyd
settled into bed the night before, everything had seemed good
and safe.Yeah, maybe this was worse, to have that suddenly taken
away.
Minho pointed at the scarred, screaming, bloody woman.
Thats what they keep calling themselves. Havent you heard
it?
I dont care if you call em pussy willows, Newt snapped.
Find me something to break through this stupid door!
Here, a shorter boy said, carrying a slender but solid fire
extinguisher hed taken off the wallThomas remembered
seeing it earlier. Again he felt something close to guilt for not
even knowing this kids name.
Newt grabbed the red cylinder, ready to pile-drive the door
handle.Thomas stood as close as he could, eager to see what was
on the other side of the door, though he had a very bad feeling
that whatever it was, they wouldnt like it. The screams of the
Cranks continued to haunt the entire room.
Newt lifted the extinguisher, then slammed it down on the
round brass handle. The loud crack was accompanied by a
deeper crunch, and it took only three more whacks before the
entire unit of the handle crashed to the floor with a jangle of
broken metal pieces. The door inched outward, open just
enough to show darkness on the other side.
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Newt stood quietly, staring at that long, narrow gap of


blackness as if he expected demons from the underworld to
come flying through. Absently, he handed the extinguisher back
to the boy whod found it.Lets go, he said.Thomas thought he
heard the slightest quaver in his voice.
Wait, Frypan called out.We sure we wanna go out there?
Maybe that door was locked for a reason.
Thomas couldnt help but agree; something felt wrong
about this.
Minho stepped up to stand right next to Newt; he looked
back at Frypan, then made eye contact with Thomas. What
elsere we gonna do? Sit here and wait for those loonies to get in?
Come on.
Those freaks arent breaking through the window bars
anytime soon, Frypan retorted. Lets just think for a second.
Time for thinkings done, Minho said. He kicked out with
his foot and made the door swing completely open; if anything,
it seemed to grow even darker on the other side. Plus, you
shouldve spoken up before we blasted the lock to bits, slinthead.
Too late now.
I hate when youre right, Frypan grumbled in response.
Thomas couldnt quit staring past the open door, into the
pool of inky darkness. He felt a now-all-too-familiar clench of
apprehension, knowing that something had to be wrong or the
people whod rescued them wouldve come for them a long
time ago. But Minho and Newt were rightthey had to go out
there and find some answers.
Shuck it, Minho said. Ill go first.
Without waiting for a response, he walked through the open
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door, his body vanishing in the gloom almost instantly. Newt


gave Thomas a hesitant look, then followed. For some reason
Thomas thought it should be up to him to go next, so he did.
Step by step, he left the dorm room and entered the darkness
of the common area, his hands out in front of him. The glow of
light coming from behind him didnt do much to illuminate
things; he might as well have been walking with his eyes
squeezed shut. And the place smelled. Horrible.
Minho yelped from up ahead.Whoa, be careful. Something
. . . weirds hanging from the ceiling.
Thomas heard a slight squeak or groan, something creaking.
As if Minho had bumped into a low-hanging chandelier and it
was now swaying back and forth. Newt grunted from somewhere to the right, and then there was the short squeal of metal
dragging across the floor.
Table, Newt announced. Watch out for tables.
Frypan spoke up behind Thomas. Does anyone remember
where the light switches were?
Thats where Im heading, Newt responded. I swear I
remember seeing a set of them somewhere over here.
Thomas continued walking blindly. His eyes had adjusted a
little; where before everything had been a wall of blackness, he
now could see traces of shadows against shadows. But something
was off. If his vision wasnt deceiving him, things seemed to be
in places they shouldnt be, though he was still a little
disoriented. It was almost as if
Bluh-huh-huh, Minho groaned, a shudder of repulsion,
like hed just stepped in a pile of klunk. Another creaking sound
etched through the room.
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Before Thomas could ask him what had happened,


he bumped into something himself. Hard. Awkwardly shaped.
The feel of cloth.
Found it! Newt shouted.
They heard a few clicks; then the room suddenly blazed
with fluorescent lights, temporarily blinding Thomas. He
stumbled away from the thing hed bumped into, rubbing his
eyes, ran into another stiff figure, sent it swaying away from him.
Holy shuck! Minho yelled.
Thomas squinted; his vision cleared. He forced himself to
look at the scene of horror around him.
Throughout the large room, people hung from the
ceilingat least a dozen. Theyd all been strung up by the neck,
the ropes around them twisted and trenched into purple, bloated
skin. The stiff bodies swung to and fro ever so slightly, pale pink
tongues lolling out of their white-lipped mouths. Their eyes
were open, though glazed over with certain death. By the looks
of it, theyd been that way for hours. Their clothes and some of
their faces looked familiar.
Thomas dropped to his knees without meaning to.
He knew these dead people.
They were the ones whod rescued the Gladers. Just the day
before.

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CHAPTER 3
Thomas tried not to look at any of the dead bodies as he stood
up. His terrified gaze darting between the various corpses hanging throughout the room, he half walked, half stumbled over to
Newt, who was still over by the bank of light switches.
Minho joined them, swearing constantly under his breath.
Other Gladers were emerging from the dorm room, shouting as
they pointed;Thomas heard a couple of them throw up, gagging
and spitting. He felt the sudden urge himself, but fought it.What
had happened? How could everything be taken away from them
so fastall the hope and relief and sense of safety? His stomach
tightened up as despair threatened to send him keeling over.
Then he thought of Teresa.
Teresa! he called out with his mind. Teresa! Again and again,
mentally screaming it with his eyes closed and face clenched.
Where are you!
Tommy, Newt said, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder.
Whats bloody wrong with you?
Thomas opened his eyes, realized he was doubled over, arms
wrapped around his stomach. He slowly straightened, tried to
push away the panic eating him inside. What . . . what do you
think? Look around us.
Yeah, but you looked like you were in pain or something.
Im finejust trying to reach her in my mind. Cant. He
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wasnt fine. He hated reminding the others that he and Teresa


could speak telepathically. And if all these people were dead . . .
Weve gotta find where they put her, he blurted out, grasping
urgently for a task to clear his mind. He scanned the room, trying his best not to focus on the corpses, looking for a door that
might lead to her room. Shed said it was across the common
area.
There. A yellow door, brass handle.
Hes right, Minho said to the group. Spread out, find
her!
Mightve already. Thomas was already on the move,
surprised at how quickly hed gotten back his senses and full
control over his body. He ran toward the door, dodging tables
and bodies as he needed to. She had to be in there, safe like theyd
been. The door was closed; that was a good sign. Probably
locked. Maybe shed fallen into a deep sleep like he had.That was
why shed been quiet, unresponsive.
Hed almost reached the door when he remembered they
might need something to break into the room. Someone grab
that fire extinguisher! he yelled over his shoulder. The smell in
the common area was horrendous; he gagged as he sucked in a
deep breath.
Winston, go get it, Minho ordered behind him.
Thomas reached the door first and tried the handle. It
didnt budge, locked tight. Then he noticed a small, clear plastic
display window hanging on the wall to the right, about five
inches square.A sheet of paper had been slipped into the thin slot.

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Teresa Agnes. Group A, Subject A1.


The Betrayer.
Oddly, the thing that stood out the most to Thomas was
Teresas last name. Or at least, what appeared to be her last name.
Agnes. He didnt know why, but it surprised him. Teresa Agnes.
He couldnt think of anyone within the splotchy knowledge of
history floating in his still-scarce memories who matched that
name. He himself had been renamed after Thomas Edison, the
great inventor. But Teresa Agnes? Hed never heard of her.
Of course, all their names were more of a joke than
anything, probably a callous way for the CreatorsWICKED or
whoever had done this to themto distance themselves from
the real people theyd stolen from real mothers and fathers.
Thomas couldnt wait until the day he learned what hed been
called at birth, what name lay stamped in the minds of his
parents, whoever they were.Wherever they were.
The memories hed regained from going through the
Changing told him that he didnt have parents who loved him.
That whoever they were, they didnt want him. That hed been
taken from horrible circumstances. But he refused to believe it.
Minho snapped his fingers in front of Thomass eyes.Hello?
Calling Thomas? Not a good time to daydream. Lots of dead
bodies, smells like Frypans pits.Wake up.
Thomas turned to him.Sorry. Just thought it was weird that
Teresas last name was Agnes.
Minho clucked his tongue. Who cares about that? Whats
this freakin stuff about her being The Betrayer?
And whats Group A, Subject A1 mean? This was Newt,
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who handed over the fire extinguisher to Thomas. Anyway,


your turn to break a buggin door handle.
Thomas gripped it, suddenly angry at himself for wasting
even a few seconds thinking about the stupid label.Teresa was in
there, and she needed their help. Trying not to be bothered by
the word betrayer, he gripped the smooth, cold end of the
red-painted cylinder and slammed it against the brass knob. A
jolt ran up his arms as the clang of metal against metal rang
through the air. Hed felt it give a little, and two smashes later the
handle fell off and the door popped open an inch or two.
Thomas threw the extinguisher to the side and grabbed the
door, swung it all the way out. Itchy with anticipation mixed
with dread at what he might find, he was the first to step into the
lighted room.
It was a smaller version of the boys dorm: just four bunk
beds, two dressers and a closed door leading presumably to
another bathroom. All the beds were made up nicely except one,
its blankets tossed to the side and a pillow hanging off the edge,
the sheet rumpled. But there was no sign of Teresa.
Teresa! Thomas called out, his throat straining with panic
as he yelled.
The swooshing sound of a toilet flushing came through the
closed door and a sudden relief burst through Thomas. It was so
strong he almost had to sit down. She was here, she was safe. He
steadied himself and started walking toward the bathroom, but
Newt reached out and grabbed his arm.
Youre used to living with a bunch of boys, Newt said.
I dont think its polite to go stomping into the bloody ladies
room. Just wait till she comes out.
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Then we need to get everybody in here and have a Gathering, Minho added. It doesnt stink in here, and there arent
any windows for Cranks to scream at us.
Thomas hadnt noticed the lack of windows until that
moment, though it shouldve been the most obvious thing,
considering the chaos of their own dorm room. Cranks. Hed
almost forgotten.
I wish shed hurry up, he murmured.
Ill get everyone over here, Minho said; he turned and
walked back into the common area.
Thomas stared at the bathroom door. Newt and Frypan and
a few other Gladers pushed their way into the room and took
seats on the beds, all of them leaning forward, elbows on knees,
rubbing their hands together absently, anxiety and worry
evident in their body language.
Teresa? Thomas said in his mind. Can you hear me? Were
waiting for you out here.
No response. And he still felt that bubble of emptiness, as if
her presence and even the capability of speaking telepathically
had been permanently taken away.
There was a click. The handle on the door to the bathroom
turned; then the door opened, swinging toward Thomas. He
stepped forward, ready to run forward and pull Teresa into a
hughe didnt care who was there to see it. But the person who
stepped into the dorm room wasnt Teresa.Thomas stopped midstride and almost tripped. Everything inside him seemed to fall.
It was a boy.
He wore the same kind of clothes theyd all been given
the night beforeclean pajamas with a button-up shirt and
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flannel pants, light blue. He had olive skin; his dark hair was cut
surprisingly short. And the look of innocent surprise on his face
was the only thing that prevented Thomas from grabbing the
shank by the collar and shaking him until some answers came
out.
Who are you? Thomas asked, not caring that the words
sounded harsh.
Who am I? the boy responded, somewhat sarcastically.
Who are you?
Newt had gotten back to his feet, and was actually standing
even closer to the new guy than Thomas. Dont bloody mess
around. There are a lot more of us than there are of you. Tell us
who you are.
The boy folded his arms, a defiant look coming over his
whole body. Fine. My names Aris. What else you wanna
know?
Thomas wanted to punch the guy. Him acting all high and
mighty while Teresa was missing. Howd you get here? Wheres
the girl who slept here last night?
Girl? What girl? Im the only one here, and its been that
way since they put me here last night.
Thomas turned to point back in the direction of the door to
the common area. Theres a sign right out there that says this is
her room.Teresa . . . Agnes. No mention of a shank named Aris.
Something in his tone mustve made the boy realize this
wasnt a joke. He held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture.
Look, man, I dont know what youre talking about. They put
me in here last night, I slept in that bedhe pointed to the one
with the rumpled sheet and blanketand I woke up about ten
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minutes ago and took a pee. Never heard the name Teresa Agnes
in my life. Sorry.
The brief moment of relief Thomas had felt when hed
heard the toilet flush officially shattered. He shared a look with
Newt, not knowing what to ask next.
Newt shrugged slightly, then turned back to Aris. Who put
you in here last night?
Aris threw his arms up in the air, then let them come back
down and slap against his sides. I dont even know, man. A
bunch of people with guns who rescued us, told us everything
would be okay now.
Rescued you from what? Thomas asked. This was getting
weird. Really, really weird.
Aris looked down at the floor and his shoulders fell. It
looked as if a wave of some terrible memory had washed over
him. He sighed, then finally looked back up at Thomas and
answered.
From the Maze, man. From the Maze.

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CHAPTER 4
Something softened in Thomas.This kid wasnt lyingThomas
could just tell.The look of horror that had taken hold of Aris was
one he knew well.Thomas had felt that horror himself, and had
seen it on too many other faces. He knew exactly what kind of
terrible memories made someone look like that. He also knew
that Aris had no clue what had happened to Teresa.
Maybe you should sit down, Thomas said. I think we
have a lot to talk about.
What do you mean? Aris asked. Who are you guys?
Whered you come from?
Thomas let out a slight laugh. The Maze. The Grievers.
WICKED.You name it. So much had happened, where could
he start? Not to mention that worry over Teresa was making his
head spin, making him want to run out of the room and search
for her immediatelybut he stayed.
Youre lying, Aris said, his voice now a whisper, his face a
full shade paler than before.
No, were not, Newt responded.Tommys right.We need
to talk. Sounds like weve come from similar places.
Whos that guy?
Thomas turned around to see that Minho had returned. A
pack of Gladers stood on the other side of the doorway. Their
faces were scrunched up in disgust at the smell out there, their
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eyes still full of the terror of what theyd just seen in the room
behind them.
Minho, meet Aris, Thomas said, taking a step to the side
and gesturing toward Minho. Aris, meet Minho.
Minho stuttered out a few unintelligible words, as if he
couldnt quite decide where to start.
Look, Newt said. Lets take down these top beds and
move them around the room.Then we can all sit and figure out
whats bloody going on.
Thomas shook his head. No. First, we need to go find
Teresa. She must be in some other room.
Isnt one, Minho said.
What do you mean?
I just checked this whole place out. Theres the big
common area, this room, our dorm room, and some seriously
shucked doors that lead outsidewhere we came in from the
bus yesterday. Locked and chained from the inside. Doesnt make
any sense, but I dont see any other doors or exits.
Thomas shook his head in confusion. It felt like a million
spiders had just spun cobwebs through his brain. But . . . what
about last night? Whered the food come from? Didnt anyone
notice other rooms, a kitchen, anything? He looked around,
hoping for an answer, but no one said a word.
Maybe theres a hidden door, Newt finally said.Look, we
can only do one thing at a time.We need to
No! Thomas shouted. Weve got all day to talk to this
Aris guy. The label by the door said Teresa should be here
somewherewe need to find her!
Without waiting for a response, refusing to think about how
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the label also said she was The Betrayer, he headed for the door
back to the common area, pushing his way past boys until he was
through.The smell hit him like a bucket of raw sewage had been
spilled over his head. The bloated and purple bodies hung like
carcasses of game set out by hunters to dry. Their lifeless eyes
stared back at him.
A familiar, sickening tickle of revulsion attacked his stomach
and he felt his gag reflex begin. Closing his eyes for a second, he
pushed it down, mentally encouraged his insides to settle.When
they finally did, he began his search for some sign of Teresa,
concentrating with all his might on not looking at the dead
people.
But then a horrible thought struck him.What if she . . .
He ran through the room, searching the faces of the bodies.
None of them was her. Relief dissolved the fleeting moment of
panic, and he focused on the room itself.
The walls surrounding the common area were as plain as
could be; smooth plaster painted white, no decoration of any
kind. And for some reason, no windows. He walked quickly
around its entire circumference, running his left hand along the
wall as he did so. He came to the door to the boys dorm room,
went past it, then made it to the big entrance through which
theyd come the day before. It had been a torrential downpour at
the time, which seemed impossible now, considering the bright
sun hed seen shining behind the crazy man earlier.
The entranceor exitconsisted of two large steel doors,
their surfaces shiny and silver. And just like Minho said, a massive
chainwith links a full inch thickhad been threaded through
the handles on the doors and pulled tight, two big key locks
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snapped shut to keep it that way.Thomas reached out and pulled


on the chain to check its strength. The metal felt cool, and it
didnt move the smallest fraction.
He expected thumps from the other sideCranks trying to
get in just as they were doing at the windows in the dorm room.
But this room remained silent. The only sounds were coming
from the two dormsmuted, distant shouts and screams from
the Cranks, and murmurs of conversation from the Gladers.
Frustrated, Thomas continued his trek along the walls until
he made it back to the room that was supposed to be Teresas.
Nothing, not even a crack or a seam to indicate another exit.The
large room wasnt even a squareit was a big oval, round and
cornerless.
He was completely perplexed. He thought back to the night
before, when theyd all sat there and eaten pizza like the starved
people theyd been. Surely there were other doors. But the more
he thought, the more he tried to picture what things had looked
like, the fuzzier it all became. An alarm went off in his head
their brains had been tinkered with before. Had something like
that happened again? Had their memories been altered or
wiped?
And what had happened to Teresa?
Desperate, he thought about crawling across the floor to
look for a trapdoor or somethingsome clue to what had
happened. But he couldnt spend another minute with all those
rotting bodies. The only thing left was the new kid. He sighed
and turned back to the small room where theyd found him. Aris
had to know something that would help.
Just as Newt had ordered, the top beds had been unhooked
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from the lower ones and placed around the room against the
walls, creating enough space for the nineteen other Gladers and
Aris to sit in a circle facing each other.
When Minho saw Thomas, he patted an empty spot next to
him. Told ya, dude. Have a seat and lets talk.We waited on you.
But close that shuck door as much as you can firstsmells worse
than Gallys rotting feet out there.
Without responding, Thomas pulled the door shut, then
walked over and sat down. He wanted to sink his head into his
hands, but he didnt. Nothing indicated for sure that any kind of
danger threatened Teresa. Something weird was going on, but
there could be a million explanations, and plenty of them that
included her being okay.
Newt was one bed to the right, sitting so far forward that
just the edge of his butt rested on the mattress.All right, lets get
started on the bloody storytellin so we can get to the real
problemfinding something to eat.
Right on cue,Thomas felt a hunger pang, heard his stomach
growl. That problem hadnt even occurred to him yet. Water
would be finethey had the bathroomsbut there was no sign
of food anywhere.
Good that, Minho said. Talk, Aris.Tell us everything.
The new boy was directly across the room from Thomasthe
Gladers sitting to each side of the stranger had scooted to the far
ends of the bed. Aris shook his head.No way.You guys go first.
Yeah? Minho responded. How about we all just take
turns beating the living klunk out of your shuck face? Then well
ask you to talk again.
Minho, Newt said sternly. Theres no reason
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Minho pointed sharply at Aris. Please, dude. For all we


know, this shank could be one of the Creators. Somebody from
WICKED, here to spy on us. He couldve killed those people
out therehes the only one we dont know, and the doors and
windows are locked! Im sick of him acting all snooty when
weve got twenty guys to his one. He should talk first.
Thomas groaned on the inside. One thing he knew was that
the kid would never talk if Minho terrified him.
Newt sighed and looked over at Aris. Hes got a point. Just
tell us what you meant about coming from the buggin Maze.
Thats where we escaped from, and we obviously havent met you.
Aris rubbed his eyes, then met Newts gaze. Fine, listen. I
was thrown into this gigantic maze made out of huge stone
wallsbut before that my memory was erased. I couldnt
remember anything about my life from before. I just knew my
name. I lived there with a bunch of girls.There mustve been fifty
of them, and I was the only boy.We escaped a few days agothe
people who helped kept us in a big gym for a few days, then
moved me here last nightbut no one explained anything.
Whats this stuff about you being in a maze, too?
Thomas barely heard the sounds of surprise coming from
the other Gladers and the last few words of what Aris had said.
Confusion swirled in his brain. Aris had announced what hed
been through as simply and quickly as describing a trip to the
beach. But it seemed crazy. Monumental, if true. Luckily
someone was aware enough to voice exactly what Thomas was
trying to sort out in his mind.
Wait a minute, Newt said. You lived in a big maze, on a
farm, where walls closed every night? Just you and a few dozen
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girls? Were there creatures called Grievers? Were you the last one to
arrive? And did everything go buggin nuts when you did? Did you
come in a coma? With a note that said you were the last one ever?
Whoa, whoa, whoa,Aris was saying even before Newt had
finished. How do you know all this? How . . .
Its the same shuck experiment, Minho said, the earlier belligerence gone from his voice.Or same . . . whatever. But they had
all girls and one boy, we had all boys and one girl. WICKED
mustve built two of those mazes, run two different tests!
Thomass line of thinking had already accepted that, and had
gone in a surprising direction. He finally settled himself enough
to speak. He looked at Aris. Did they call you the Trigger?
Aris nodded, obviously as perplexed as anyone else in the
room.
And could you . . . , Thomas began, but hesitated. He felt
like every time he brought this up, he was admitting to the world
that he was crazy. Could you speak to one of those girls inside
your minds? Ya know, telepathically?
Ariss eyes widened, staring deeply at Thomas as if hed
understood a dark secret that only someone else who shared it
could understand.
Can you hear me?
The phrase appeared so clearly inside Thomass mind that at
first he thought Aris had spoken aloud. But nohis lips hadnt
moved.
Can you hear me? the boy repeated.
YeThomas hesitated, swallowed. Yes.
They killed her, Aris said back to him. They killed my best
friend.
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CHAPTER 5
Whats going on? Newt asked, looking back and forth
between Thomas and Aris. Whyre you guys looking at each
other like you just fell in love?
He can do it, too,Thomas answered, not taking his eyes off
the new kid, seeing the others only in his peripheral vision.That
final statement by Aris had terrified him; if theyd killed his
telepathy partner . . .
Do what? Frypan asked.
What do you think? Minho said. Hes a freak like
Thomas.They can talk in each others heads.
Newt was glaring at Thomas now. Serious?
Thomas nodded, and almost spoke to Aris in his mind again,
but said it out loud at the last second. Who killed her? What
happened?
Who killed who? Minho said. No more of your voodoo
klunk while were around.
Thomas, eyes watering now, finally broke his gaze with Aris,
looked over at Minho. He had someone he could do this with,
just like I did. I mean . . . do. But he said they killed her. I want to
know who they are.
Ariss head had dropped; his eyes looked closed from where
Thomas sat.I dont really know who they are. Its too confusing.
Couldnt tell the bad guys from the good guys. But I think
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somehow they made this girl Beth . . . stab . . . my friend. Her


name was Rachel. Shes dead, man. Shes dead. He covered his
face with both hands.
Thomas felt an almost painful prick of confusion.
Everything pointed to Ariss having come from another version
of the Maze, set up in the same format, but with the ratio of girls
to boys reversed. That would make Aris their version of Teresa.
And this Beth sounded like their version of Gally, whod killed
Chuck. With a knife. Did that mean that Gally was supposed to
have killed Thomas instead?
But why was Aris here now? And where was Teresa?
Suddenly things that had almost started to click in Thomass
mind fell apart again.
Well, howd you end up with us? Newt asked.Where are
all these girls you keep talking about? How many of them
escaped with you? Did they bring all of you here or just you?
Thomas couldnt help but feel sorry for Aris. To get grilled
with all these questions after something like that had happened.
If the roles were switched, if Thomas had seen Teresa get killed .
. .Watching it happen to Chuck had been bad enough.
Bad enough? he thought. Or was seeing Chuck die worse, in a
way? Thomas wanted to scream. At that moment, everything in
the world just sucked.
Aris looked up finally, wiped a couple of tears from his
cheeks. He did it without the slightest hint of shame, and
Thomas suddenly knew that he liked this kid.
Look, the boy said. Im just as confused as everyone else.
About thirty of us survived. They took us to that gym, fed us,
cleaned us up. Then they brought me to this place last night,
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saying I should be separate since Im a guy. Thats it. Then you


sticks show up.
Sticks? Minho repeated.
Aris shook his head. Never mind. I dont even know what
it means. Just a word they used when I got there.
Minho exchanged a glance with Thomas, half smiling.
Looked like both groups had come up with their own slang.
Hey, one of the Gladers Thomas didnt really know called
out. He was leaning against the wall behind Aris, pointing at him.
Whats that on the side of your neck? Something black, right
below your collar.
Aris tried to look down, but couldnt bend his neck to see
that part of his body. What?
Thomas saw a dark splotch just above the back neckline of
the boys pajama shirt as he shifted around. It appeared to be a
thick line, stretching from the hollow of his collarbone around to
his back. And it was broken up, like it might be lettering.
Here, let me look, Newt offered. He stood from the bed
and walked over, his limpfrom something in the past hed
never shared with Thomasshowing more than usual. He
reached out and pulled Ariss shirt down more so he could see
the odd marking better.
Its a tattoo, Newt said, squinting as if he didnt believe his
eyes.
Whats it say? Minho asked, though hed already gotten up
from the bed and approached to get his own look.
When Newt didnt answer right away, curiosity lifted
Thomas to his own feet, and soon he was right beside Minho,

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leaning over to see the tattoo himself.What he saw printed there


in blocky letters made his heart skip a beat.

PROPERTY OF WICKED. GROUP B, SUBJECT B1. THE PARTNER.


Whats that supposed to mean? Minho asked.
What does it say? Aris asked, reaching around to feel the
skin of his neck and shoulders, pulling his shirt collar down.
I swear it wasnt there last time I showered!
Newt repeated the words to him, then said, Property of
WICKED? I thought wed escaped them. Or, youd escaped
them, too. This is so bizarre. He turned around, visibly
frustrated, and went back to sit down on his bed.
And why would it call you the Partner? Minho said, still
staring at the tattoo.
Aris shook his head, visibly upset. I dont have a clue.
I swear. And theres no way that was there before last night.
I showered, looked in the mirror. I wouldve seen it. And
someone wouldve noticed it back in the Maze for sure.
Youre telling me they tattooed you in the middle of the
night? Minho said. Without you noticing? Come on, dude.
I swear! Aris insisted. Then he got up and went to the
bathroom, probably to try to see the words for himself.
I dont believe a shuck word he says, Minho whispered to
Thomas on his way back to his seat. Then, just as Minho leaned
forward to plop back down on the mattress, his shirt shifted
enough to reveal a thick line of black on his neck.
Whoa! Thomas said. For a second, he was too stunned to
move.
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What? Minho asked, looking at Thomas as if hed just


sprouted a third ear on his forehead.
Youryour neck,Thomas finally got out.You have it on
your neck, too!
What the shuck you talkin about? Minho said as he
pulled at his shirt, face scrunched up as he struggled to see
something he couldnt.
Thomas ran the few steps over to Minho, slapped his hands
away, then pulled the neckline of the shirt back. Holy . . . Its
right there! Same thing, except . . .
Thomas read the words to himself.

PROPERTY OF WICKED. GROUP A, SUBJECT A7. THE LEADER.


What, dude! Minho yelled at him.
Most of the other Gladers had gathered in a tight group
behind Thomas, squeezing in to get a look.Thomas quickly read
the tattooed words out loud, surprised he could do it without
stumbling on them.
Youre kiddin me, man, Minho said, standing up. He
pushed his way through the crowd of boys to follow Aris to the
bathroom.
And then the frenzy began.Thomas felt his own shirt tugged
down as he pulled at others. Everyone started talking over
everyone else.
They all say Group A.
Property of WICKED, just like his.
Youre Subject A Thirteen.
Subject A Nineteen.
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A Three.
A Ten.
Thomas realized he was slowly turning in a circle, dazed, as
he watched the Gladers discover the tattoos on each other. Most
of them didnt have the additional designations like Aris and
Minho, just the property line. Newt was going from boy to
boy to see for himself, his face set in stone as if he were
concentrating to memorize the names and numbers.Then, quite
by accident, the two of them stood facing each other.
What does mine say? Newt asked.
Thomas pulled the neckline of Newts shirt to the side, then
leaned over to read the words etched into his skin. Youre
Subject A Five and they called you the Glue.
Newt gave him a startled look. The Glue?
Thomas let go of his shirt and stepped back. Yeah.
Probably because youre kind of the glue that holds us all
together. I dont know. Read mine.
I already did
Thomas noticed that an odd expression had come over
Newts face. One of hesitation. Or dread. Like he didnt want to
tell Thomas what his tattoo said. Well?
Youre Subject A Two, Newt answered.Then his eyes lowered.
And? Thomas pushed.
Newt hesitated, then answered without looking at him. It
doesnt call you anything. It just says . . .To be killed by Group B.

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THE

MAZE
WAS ONLY THE
BEGINNING....

THE

SCORCH

TRIALS

TheMazeRunner.com

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