James Dashner: The Eye of Minds

He stopped at the forest line, turned around to take a long look at the attack on the castle. Streaks of lasers pummeled the walls of the huge stone structure. Fires raged and bodies fell. Agents continued to storm inside, but there was still something wrong about it all.

Catching his breath, Michael turned away from the mayhem and crept into the forest until he found the big tree he’d been hoping for—a thick trunk that was five or six times wider than his body. He put it between himself and the castle, sinking to the ground. He closed his eyes.

Pure exhaustion took him, and he fell asleep.

There was no telling how much time passed. Twenty minutes, an hour, maybe two. He dreamed of things so bizarre his mind couldn’t wrap itself around them. He was in a haze of delirium from the madness he’d seen over the past few days.

He was awakened from sleep in an instant.

Someone grabbed him by the collar, yanked him up so powerfully that Michael’s body flew into the air. Then he was being dragged through the pine straw that lined the forest floor. Michael kicked out, trying to get his feet under him, twisting to free himself. But it was no good.

Past countless trees they went, his captor showing no intention of slowing. Michael went limp; it was no use struggling—he simply waited for it to end.

It felt as if he’d been dragged for a mile, at least. His body ached, but he closed his eyes and hoped it would be over soon.

Finally the person dropped him to the ground without warning. Michael curled into a ball, sucking in deep breaths and coughing them back out. There was the sound of a door creaking open, footsteps on a wooden floor, murmurs of conversation that Michael couldn’t make out. He twisted to look for the source of the voices and saw a small cottage of stone with a massively huge man standing on the porch, his back to him.

The man turned toward Michael, his face in shadow, and stomped over to where he lay. Before he could say a word, the man yanked him to his feet and pulled him to the cottage. They reached the door, and he pushed Michael through it so that he tripped and crashed to the floor. He’d barely landed before the man grabbed him by the back of his shirt and lifted him up again, then slammed him into a chair that faced a roaring fire in a redbrick hearth.

Michael was in a panic, unable to form any sort of rational thought. But his eyes immediately found another chair by the fire. An old man was sitting there, his legs crossed and his arms folded. A smile on his wrinkled face, a glare that didn’t match it.

It was Kaine.

“You made it, Michael,” the Tangent said. “I can’t believe you actually made it.”

Michael didn’t respond. Couldn’t. His mind tried to spin all the threads of what he’d experienced along the Path into something that made sense, but it wasn’t coming together. His body hurt from being dragged through the forest, and the short nap had done nothing to relieve his exhaustion. All he could do was stare at the withered form of Kaine, wonder what he was talking about, and wait for him to explain it.

It took every ounce of his will, but Michael’s eyes stayed glued to the Tangent.

“You have no idea of the magnitude of what you’ve been involved in,” Kaine said. “Everything has been designed to lead those like you here. You were one of many chosen, but the first to make it. Every step of the way, you’ve been studied. Your intelligence, your cleverness, your bravery. Tested.”

Michael finally found his voice. “For what? So you can use me to break into more programs?”

“No.” Kaine laughed, a low chortle that seemed to loosen Michael’s spine. “I’ve tested far, far more than just your hacking skills. That will only take you so far in life. You won’t understand the magnitude of what I’ve set in motion until you experience it for yourself. It can’t possibly be explained with words alone.”

It was weird, but Michael felt as if Kaine was almost talking to him like an equal. He’d expected a madman—and the Path only seemed to ensure it—but this man seemed perfectly sane. Even respectful. “The VNS is here. It’s over.”

Kaine shook his head. “If only you had any idea, Michael.”

Michael opened his mouth to speak but was stopped with a word from the older man.

“Silence!” Kaine barked, and leaned forward in a flash. He was so close that his face seemed to fill Michael’s vision, his gaze fierce. It was a sudden reminder of what this man represented. Supposedly the most dangerous thing to ever hit the VirtNet.

Kaine sat back in his chair, calm once more. “There are things at play here that you don’t understand. Not yet.”

“What’s the point of all this?” Michael asked timidly. “Why were you testing me?”

“You’re about to find out,” Kaine said. “And then, with your… impressive bravery, intelligence, and skills at code-breaking, you’re going to help me crush the world in my fist.”

“Help you do what ?” Michael asked. “You really think I’d help you?”

Kaine nodded matter-of-factly, as if the question was nonsense. “Absolutely. You’ve already done it by making it this far. You have no choice in the matter.”

“I came here to stop you!” Michael was shouting now. “Lead the VNS to you!”

Kaine looked amused, if anything, but didn’t respond. His silence was maddening—all Michael could hear was the crackle of the fire, and it made him even angrier.

“What is it?” Michael yelled, standing up. “Tell me what’s going on!”

The Tangent’s smile seemed carved into his face. “I told you—there’s no way you’ll understand until you experience it for yourself. Which is about to happen, very soon. There’s nothing you can do to stop it, Michael.”

“I should hack into your coding,” Michael answered. “I could do it. I could shut you down. Stop you forever.”

“You just continue to prove why I’ve deemed you worthy, boy. You are a perfect candidate indeed. Would you like to know something else?”

Michael was seething—he refused to answer.

Kaine shrugged his frail shoulders, then kept talking. “Your parents, Michael. They’re… gone. I’ve wiped them from existence. You’ll never see them again. I’ve done the same with your poor, poor Helga. Gone , Michael.”

Michael’s hands were shaking, his blood boiling, a rushing sound in his ears.

Kaine grinned so widely his teeth showed. “They’re all dead.”

Michael’s insides had felt as if they’d been strung with tight wire, cinched to the breaking point. At Kaine’s last words, they all snapped.

He ran forward and grabbed the Tangent’s shirt, jerked him out of his chair, and threw him to the floor. The chair flew back, hit the stone hearth, and tipped into the fire, sending sparks and ash everywhere. Kaine was on his back, staring at Michael, a huge smile still plastered on his face. Then Michael noticed the Tangent shaking. Kaine was laughing at him.

Michael’s hatred erupted.

He jumped onto Kaine’s chest and pinned the old man to the ground. But the Tangent wouldn’t stop laughing. Michael pulled back a fist, but it hung there—he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t punch someone who looked so old and frail, simulated or not.

Kaine stared back at him, smiling, revealing those ancient teeth. “I like your spirit,” he said. “I love how you keep proving me right.”

Whatever spirit he was talking about drained right out of Michael. He pushed himself off of the Tangent’s body and stood up, breathing heavily as he glared down at him. Kaine put his hands behind his head and crossed one ankle over the other, as if he was just lying on the ground, taking in the stars.