James Dashner - The Hunt for Dark Infinity

He put his right foot up on his left knee. “Well, we were supposed to be winked to the Realitant Headquarters at the Grand Canyon for a meeting about the weird stuff Reginald Chu is up to. But before that could happen, Chu tricked us and put a device on our arms that hijacked our nanolocators.”

“Which means what, now?” Sally asked, his eyebrows raised.

“That Reginald Chu controls us now. He can track us and wink us wherever he wants to. And there’s not a thing anyone can do about it.”

Sally shook his head in disgust. “Purtin’ near one of da worst things I reckon a man can do. Matter-fact, breakin’ Rule Number 462 bans you from dem there Realitants ’til the day you is deader than a squirrel on a tire’s underbelly.”

“Hey, let Tick finish,” Sofia said. “We need to make sure we all understand everything you told us.”

“Fair ’nuff,” Sally said.

“Anyway,” Tick continued, “you said it looks like Chu is testing us and some other people to see who’s most worthy to help him in a secret project he’s working on. And the project has something to do with a disease or plague that’s making people go crazy in some of the Realities.”

Tick paused, not really wanting to say the next part.

“Get on wid it,” Sally prodded.

“Master George wants us to keep going. He wants us to be the ones who make it. He wants us to win Chu’s contest. It’s the only way we can make sure the Realitants get there to stop it-whatever it is.”

After a long pause, Paul said, “You’re the man, Tick. Took Sofia about three hours to say what you just said.”

“Well,” Tick said, “that’s pretty much it, isn’t it? We have to keep going, even though it seems like Chu doesn’t care if we make it or die trying. Not that much fun to think about, let alone talk about.”

Sofia stood from her chair and walked to the window, where she parted the curtain just enough to peek out. “This is so creepy. It was bad enough knowing Master George tracked us last year. Now we’ve got some power-hungry mad scientist controlling our lives. There has to be a way to get rid of those nanolocators, right?”

“Then you’d be missing the point,” Paul said. “Which is shocking considering how long you took to talk about it.”

“I’m not missing the point,” Sofia said as she turned back toward the group. “Even if we could get rid of them, we wouldn’t because we need to keep pretending that we’re trying to win.”

“Not only that,” Tick said. “We need Chu to think we don’t know he’s behind it all.”

“Dang, you kids are plumb smart,” Sally said. “When I’s a youngun like you, I was happier than a crawdaddy at high tide if I could add up my own two feet.”

“I think you’re wrong, Tick,” Paul said, ignoring Sally. “I don’t think Chu gives one flip about what we know. He seems like a ruthless dude who doesn’t care jack-squat about rules or whatever. All he cares about is who’s standing at the end. It doesn’t matter how we get there.”

“Maybe,” Tick said. “But it still seems smarter to play along as much as we can.”

“Say we do make it,” Sofia asked, sitting on the corner of the bed, addressing Sally. “What are we supposed to do once we get there?”

Sally nodded, pausing a long time before he answered. “Dat there’s a dang ol’ good question, miss. I reckon George is tryin’ to figger dat one out as we sit here talkin’.”

“What are you going to do?” Paul asked.

“I’ll be gettin’ on back to the homestead,” Sally said, rubbing his hands together. “Ya’ll keep mosin’ along on dis here joyride, and I’ll come find ya when we’s got further word.”

“How are you going to find us? How did you find us?” Tick asked.

“I’d reckoned you woulda done asked me dat. Took me forever to find ya the first time ’cuz the signal was weak. But don’t you remember me shovin’ my finger in ya ear?”

Tick couldn’t have forgotten. “Yeah, what was that for?”

“I put one of dem fancy Earwig Transponder thingamajigs in there. Now George can track ya better and stifle some of dem spyin’ devices inside ya.”

Tick reached up and rubbed his ear, then poked his index finger in as deep as it would go. “You put what in my ear?”

“Doncha fret, now,” Sally said. “Ain’t like it’s gonna eat your dang ol’ brain or nuttin’.”

Tick was about to protest further when someone rapped on the door with a hard and urgent knock. Sofia and Paul jumped to their feet; Sally moved faster than Tick would have believed-running to the door and yanking it open in a matter of two seconds.

No one stood there, but a note had been stuck to the door with a piece of clear tape. Sally ripped it off, read through the words, then walked over and handed it to Tick.

“Read it,” Sally said. “I’m goin’ to look for the rat who left it.” He left the room, marching like he was going off to war.

Tick shot a glance at Paul and Sofia, then read the note to them. “‘You people must think I’m an idiot. But I know everything. Everything. The sooner you accept that, the better. The game is on. Win or die.’” Tick paused, swallowed. “‘Sincerely, Reginald Chu.’”

No one said a word for the longest time. Finally, Sofia spoke: “Looks like you were right, Paul.”

Win or die, Tick thought. Win or die.

The sounds grew louder-and more haunting-as Sato made his way down the long tunnel. A man screaming as if going through a horrible surgery without anesthetic. People arguing, their words impossible to make out. Someone crying. Lots of people crying. Mumbling, moaning, retching. Sato couldn’t imagine anything worse than being in this place.

The roughly carved walls of the tunnel were dark and shiny, wet with rivulets and flat streams of water sluicing down its sides, disappearing into cracks on the floor. Odd lamps were set into the stone about every thirty feet, filthy glass surrounding a milky light that seemed a mix of old-fashioned wicks and electric sparks. Sato fully expected to see rats scurrying about, but thus far had seen no sign of life.

Just the sounds. The terrible, terrible sounds.

Up ahead, the tunnel made a turn to the right, a somewhat brighter light glowing from that direction. Huddled on the floor was a woman, her face draped in shadow, clutching her legs to her chest, shivering and mumbling the same phrase over and over. Sato couldn’t quite make out the words.

His heart pounded as he walked toward the woman, sweat making the syringe clasped in his right hand slippery; he hid it behind his back. Was she infected? Could it be this easy? He stopped a few feet in front of her, thinking about each breath, trying to slow his heart down.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice breaking on the second word. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I’m looking for someone.”

The woman looked up; Sato took a step backward. He didn’t know what he’d expected to see-someone hideous, scarred, a wart-infested witch, maybe-but the lady sitting in front of him was very pretty. She had perfect skin, and blue eyes that shone like crystals in the pale light. Her dark hair sprawled across her shoulders. White teeth flashed behind her still-moving lips, uttering the indecipherable words repeatedly.

Despite her pleasant looks, she looked sad, tear streaks lining both cheeks.

“Can you help me?” Sato said, fingering the syringe hidden from her sight. He took a step closer.

The woman finally fell silent, pressing her lips together. Then she spoke, her voice soft but firm. “We’re only crazy when he’s not in our heads.”

Sato reached for words to reply. The lady’s eyes showed no lunacy, no fear, no confusion. She seemed perfectly sane.