Without responding, Thomas pulled the door shut, then walked over and sat down. He wanted to sink his head into his hands, but he didn't. 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 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, let's get started on the bloody storytellin' so we can get to the real problem―finding something to eat."
Right on cue, Thomas felt a hunger pang, heard his stomach growl. That problem hadn't even occurred to him yet. Water would be fine―they had the bathrooms―but 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 Thomas―the 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 we'll ask you to talk again."
"Minho," Newt said sternly. "There's no reason―"
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 could've killed those people out there―he's the only one we don't know and the doors and windows are locked! I'm sick of him acting all snooty when we've 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 open up if Minho terrified him.
Newt sighed and looked over at Aris. "He's got a point. Just tell us what you meant about coming from the buggin' Maze. That's where we escaped from, and we obviously haven't met you."
Aris rubbed his eyes, then met Newt's gaze. "Fine, listen. I was thrown into this gigantic maze made out of huge stone walls―but before that my memory was erased. I couldn't remember anything about my life from before. I just knew my name. I lived there with a bunch of girls. There must've been fifty of them, and I was the only boy. We escaped a few days ago―the people who helped kept us in a big gym for a few days, then moved me here last night―but no one explained anything. What's this stuff about you being in a maze, too?"
Thomas barely heard the last few words of what Aris had said over the sounds of surprise coming from the other Gladers. Confusion swirled in his brain. Aris had announced what he'd been through as simply and quickly as describing a trip to the beach. But it seemed crazy. Monumental, if true. Luckily someone voiced 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 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 ..."
"It's 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 must've built two of those mazes, run two different tests!"
Thomas's line of thinking had already accepted that. 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 mind? Ya know, like telepathically?"
Aris's eyes widened, staring deeply at Thomas as if he'd understood a dark secret that only someone else who shared it could understand.
Can you hear me?
The phrase appeared so clearly inside Thomas's mind that at first he thought Aris had spoken aloud. But no―his lips hadn't moved.
Can you hear me? the boy repeated.
Thomas hesitated, swallowed. Yes.
They killed her, Aris said back to him. They killed my best friend.
CHAPTER 6
"What's going on?" Newt asked, looking back and forth between Thomas and Aris. "Why're 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 they'd killed his telepathy partner ...
"Do what?" Frypan asked.
"What do you think?" Minho said. "He's a freak like Thomas. They can talk in each other's 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 we're around."
Thomas, eyes watering now, finally broke his gaze with Aris and 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."
Aris's head had dropped; his eyes looked closed from where Thomas sat. "I don't really know who they are. It's too confusing. I couldn't tell the bad guys from the good guys. But I think somehow they made this girl Beth ... stab ... my friend. Her name was Rachel. She's dead, man. She's dead." He covered his face with both hands.