Chapter 14 Chapter 14 Dark Tunnel

No one complained, Thomas commanded the others after Minho.Everyone didn't even say a word, they just exchanged timid glances as they approached the plane traverser.Without exception, every glademan hesitates for a moment before taking the final step into that dark gray area.Thomas watched over everyone, patting them hard on the back before they disappeared. Two minutes later, Thomas was alone with Ares and Newt. Are you sure about doing this?Ares said to him in his mind. Thomas chokes and coughs, surprised at the words piercing through his consciousness—the kind of words that can't actually be heard but somehow can be heard in his head.He thought -- and hoped -- that Ares had gotten a hint that he didn't want to communicate that way.That was Teresa's way, not anyone else's.

"Hurry up," Thomas muttered loudly, refusing to respond telepathically, "we've got to hurry up." Ares stepped over, a hurt look on his face.Newt followed him; and just like that, Thomas was alone in the huge public room. Looking around for the last time, he remembered the bodies that had hung there only days before.Thinking of the maze and everything they've been through.He sighed as loudly as he could, hoping someone somewhere would hear, then grabbed his water bag, and the sheet package full of food, and stepped into the plane traverser. A palpable chill ran across his skin from front to back, as if the gray wall was a standing pool of icy water.

He closed his eyes at the last moment and opened them again, seeing nothing but absolute darkness.But he heard voices. "Hi!" he yelled, ignoring the sudden burst of panic in his voice, "you guys..." Before he finished speaking, he tripped over something and fell, hitting the body of a wriggling person. "Ow!" the man yelled, pushing Thomas away, all he could do was hold on to the water bag. "Everyone keep quiet, shut up!" It was Minho's voice, and Thomas felt a surge of comfort that almost made him cry out happily, "Thomas, is that you? Are you here?"

"Yes!" Thomas stood up, groping around to make sure he didn't hit anyone else.He could feel nothing but air, and see nothing but darkness. "I was the last one to pass through, did everyone pass through successfully?" "We were queuing up for a simple count, and at this moment you stumbled in like a drugged cow," Minho replied, "Let's do the count again. One!" No one spoke, so Thomas yelled, "Two!" From there, the Gladers counted one by one, and Ares was the last, shouting, "Twenty!" "Very well," Minho said, "We're all here now, no matter what the hell this is, we can't see anything."

Thomas stood still, feeling the other boys, listening to their breathing, but not daring to move. "Too bad we don't even have a flashlight." "Thank you for stating the obvious, Mr. Thomas." Minho replied, "Okay, listen. We're in some kind of aisle-like place - I can feel the walls on both sides, and as far as I know , most of you are on my right side. Thomas, where you are standing now is the entrance we came in. We better not take the risk of accidentally going back through that plane traverser device, So everyone followed my voice and headed my way. We had no choice but to walk down the road and see what we could find."

As he spoke his last few words, he had already begun to walk away from Thomas, and the slight sound of footsteps and the rustling of the bundle against his clothes told him that the others were following.When he felt that he was the only one left behind and would not step on anyone, he slowly moved to the left while reaching out his hand until he touched a hard, cold wall.Then he walked behind the main group, sliding his hands along the wall to keep his bearings. Everyone walked on in silence, and Thomas hated his eyes for not being able to adjust to the darkness—not even the slightest glimmer of light.The air was cool and smelled like a mixture of old leather and dust.Several times he bumped into the guy directly in front of him; he didn't even know who it was because the boy didn't say a word when they collided.

They walked and walked, and the tunnel stretched forward, neither to the left nor to the right.Thomas' hands are against the wall, and the ground beneath his feet is the only thing that connects him to reality, or gives him a sense of movement.Otherwise, he'll feel as if he's floating in an empty universe and can't move forward anyway. The only sounds were the scrape of shoes on the hard firm ground and the occasional chatter or two of gladeers.Thomas could feel every heartbeat as they made their way down the never-ending dark tunnel.He couldn't help thinking of the cage, the dark, stale elevator that had transported him to the glade; the feeling was similar now.But at least now he has some solid memories, has friends and knows who they are.At least now he understood the gamble—they needed a cure, and it was possible to get it through bad things.

Suddenly, a strong whisper filled the tunnel, and the sound seemed to come from above. Thomas stopped abruptly in his tracks, and the sound didn't come from any Gladiator, he was sure of that. Minho's voice came from the front, he yelled for the others to stop, and said, "Did you all hear that voice?" A few Gladers answered softly "yes" and started asking questions.Thomas strained his ears toward the ceiling, trying to hear something other than the voices.The fleeting whisper was very quick, with only a few short words, and it sounded like the voice of a very old and frail person.But the information in those words is completely undecipherable.

Minho silenced everyone again, telling them to listen. Although there was no point in doing so in the darkness, Thomas closed his eyes and focused entirely on his hearing.If that voice came again, he wanted to hear what it said. Less than a minute later, the same old voice sounded harshly again, echoing in the air, as if there were huge loudspeakers installed on the ceiling.Thomas heard a few people gasp, and it seemed that this time they heard the sound clearly, but were frightened by what they heard, but he still couldn't make out a word or two.He opened his eyes again, though nothing had changed in front of him—complete darkness, blackness.

"Did anyone hear what it said?" Newt called out. "A few sentences," replied Winston, "the middle ones sound like 'go back.'" "Yes, that's it." Someone agreed. Thomas thought about what he had heard, and looking back, the word sounded like it existed somewhere in his memory.go back. "Everyone don't talk this time, just listen carefully." Minho announced loudly.The dark corridor fell into silence. When the voice came again, Thomas understood every syllable. "A trading opportunity, go back now, and you won't be torn to pieces."

Judging by the reactions of those in front of him, everyone else got it this time, too. "Won't it be torn to shreds?" "What do you mean by that?" "He said we could go back!" "We can't trust a random voice in the dark." Thomas tried not to think about how inauspicious those last words were.You will not be torn to pieces.That doesn't sound very nice at all.And not being able to see anything made it even worse, he was going crazy. "Keep going!" He shouted to Minho, "I can't stand it after a long time, go on!" "Wait a minute." It was Frypan's voice. "That voice said this is a trading opportunity. We should at least think about it." "Yeah," someone added, "maybe we should go back." Thomas shook his head, even though he knew no one could see him. "No, remember what the guy at the table told us. If we go back, we'll all die terribly." Frypan argued: "Well, why should his words be more believable than this whisper? And how do we know who to listen to and who not to listen to?" Thomas knew it was a good question, but it always felt wrong to go back. "I bet that sound was just a test and we need to keep going." "He's right." It was Minho's voice, coming from the front, "Come on, let's go." As soon as he finished speaking, the whisper roared through the air again, this time with a kind of childlike hatred. "You'll all die, you'll all be torn to shreds." Every hair on Thomas' neck stood on end, and a chill ran down his back.He expected to hear more calls for them to go back, but once again the Gladiator surprised him.No one spoke, and soon they were all walking on again.Minho was right, all cowards have already been eliminated. They groped their way into the dark depths.The air has become warmer, and the smell of dust seems to have become thicker.Thomas coughed several times and desperately wanted some water, but he didn't want to risk opening his water bag without being seen.As long as he did this, he might spill all the water on the ground. forward. It's getting warmer. Thirsty. dark. Walking, time has never passed so slowly. Thomas couldn't understand how such a tunnel could exist, and they had walked at least two or three miles since the last time they heard that eerie warning voice.where are they?Is it underground?Or in a huge building?The ratman said they'd have to find their way outside.how…… A boy a few dozen feet ahead of him suddenly let out a scream. It started as a sudden scream, like a little fright, but then escalated into a scream of pure fear.He didn't know who it was, but the child was hoarse now, like the animals in the old house in the glade, and Thomas heard the sound of a human body hitting the ground. Instinctively, he ran forward, pushed away a few Glademen who seemed to be frightened, and rushed towards the inhuman scream.He didn't know why he felt he could be more helpful than anyone else, but he didn't hesitate, not even paying attention to his steps as he ran at full speed through the darkness.His body seemed to crave action after walking mindlessly for so long, almost maddeningly long. He did, and could hear the boy now lying in front of him. His arms and legs were still struggling violently against the concrete floor, as if against something.Thomas carefully put his hydration pack in place, set the pack over one shoulder, and cautiously reached forward with both hands to grab an arm or leg.He felt the other Gladers crowding around him, shouting and asking questions, and he tried to ignore them. "Hi!" Thomas called to the writhing boy. "What's the matter with you?" His fingers fumbled for the kid's denim jacket, then the shirt, but the boy's entire body was writhing, and there was nothing he could do. Grab it, and his screams continued to cut through the air. In the end, Thomas decided to put all his eggs in one basket.He crouched forward, pressing his entire body on top of the writhing child.After a jolt that left him almost breathless, he steadied himself and found the writhing torso; an elbow bumped against his ribs, and a hand came across his face With a slap, a knee came up, almost hitting his groin. "Stop!" Thomas yelled. "What's wrong?" The screaming stopped, as if the child had been pulled underwater, but his twitching didn't stop at all. Thomas rested an elbow and forearm on the Glader's chest for support, then reached out to grab his hair or his face.But when his hand slid into that position, he was puzzled. No head, no hair or face, not even a neck.Nothing that should have been there. Instead, Thomas touched a large, cold metal ball with a very smooth surface.