Chapter 16 Chapter 16 Killing Mercury Ball

Thomas, as he chased Winston down the steps, had a thought that disgusted him.He didn't know if he was chasing after him because he wanted to help him, or because he couldn't control his curiosity about the quicksilver ball. At last Winston came to a halt with a thud, his back happening to rest on a step which was still far from the bottom, and all was brilliantly illuminated by the light from the open doorway above.Both of Winston's hands were on his face, tugging at the blob of quicksilver—the ball of molten metal that had fused to the top of his head and was consuming him from above the ears.Now its edges were sliding down like sticky syrup, flipping his ears and covering his eyebrows.

Thomas jumped on top of Winston and turned to kneel on the steps below him; Winston pushed and pulled the quicksilver ball to keep it from his eyes.Strangely, this seemed to work, but the boy screamed and twitched, kicking the wall with his feet. "Get it off me!" he yelled, his voice so distorted that Thomas almost gave up on the rescue and fled.If that thing hurts that much... It looks like a viscous quicksilver glue, indomitable and unyielding—almost alive.No sooner had Winston pushed part of the quicksilver up and away from his eyes than some slipped off the edge of his finger and came back again.When he did, Thomas could see the skin on his face, and it wasn't very pretty.Red, swollen, and blistered.

Winston cried out some unintelligible words—the screams of torture became another language entirely.Thomas knew he had to do something, and time was running out. He swung the bundle off his shoulders and dumped its contents; fruit and food packages were scattered and rolled down the steps.He picked up the sheet, wrapped it around his hands for protection, and rushed up.As Winston gave another shove to the blob of molten quicksilver above his eyes, Thomas caught the quicksilver that had just trickled down the sides of his ears.He felt heat coming through the fabric, and felt that it might burst into flames.He spread his feet apart, gripped the lump as hard as he could, and pulled hard up.

With an unsettling gasp, the sides of the attacking mass of molten metal lifted a few feet before slipping from his hand and clapping back onto Winston's ear.Incredibly, the boy screamed louder.A few other Gladers tried to come over to help, but Thomas yelled at them to back off, thinking they were just getting in the way. "We've got to do it together!" Thomas called to Winston, determined to grab harder this time. "Listen, Winston! We've got to do it together! Grab it hard and get it off your head." Take it off!" The boy didn't show any sign of understanding, and his whole body was convulsed as he struggled.If Thomas hadn't been on the step below him, he would have rolled down the back step by now.

"Count to three!" cried Thomas. "Winston! I count to three!" Still no response, Winston screamed, twitched, kicked, and slapped the blob of quicksilver. Tears welled up in Thomas' eyes, or maybe sweat ran down his forehead.But it stings the eyes, and he feels as if the air is a million degrees Celsius.His muscles tensed; stabbing pain pierced through his legs, and his legs were shaking too. "Do it!" he shouted, ignoring everything, bending down and trying again with all his might, "One, two, three!" He grasped the sides of the expanding mass of quicksilver, felt its strange combination of softness and strength, and pulled hard again up and away from Winston's head.Winston must have heard it, or it might have been luck, and at the same time, with the heels of his hands, he was also pushing hard on the blob of molten lava, as if trying to tear his own head off.The whole ball of mercury was torn off, it was a large viscous and heavy thing that kept shaking.Thomas didn't hesitate. With a flick of his arms, he threw the pile of trash over his head and down the steps, then turned his heels to see what was happening.

When it was flying in the air, the mass of mercury quickly recovered into a ball shape, its surface shook for a while, and then settled down.It stopped just a few steps below them, hovering for a second, as if taking a long, last look at its victim, probably still wondering what was wrong.Then it flew out, flying down the steps until it disappeared into the distant darkness. It went away and for some reason didn't come back to attack. Thomas took a deep breath; every inch of his body felt drenched in sweat.He leaned his shoulders against the wall, not daring to look back at Winston, who was whimpering behind him, at least the screaming had died down.

Thomas turned at last to face him. The child was a mess, curled into a ball and shaking.The hair on his head was gone, replaced by a bald scalp and spots oozing blood.His ear was cut, half-shattered like a jagged tooth.He was sobbing, definitely from the pain, and possibly from the trauma of what he had just been through.Compared with the wound on the rest of his head, the pimples on his face looked clean and fresh. "Are you okay, buddy?" Thomas asked, knowing it was the worst question he'd ever asked. Winston jerked violently and shook his head; his body continued to tremble.

Thomas looked up to see Minho, Newt, Ares, and all the other Gladers just a few steps above them, all dumbfounded.The blinding light from above cast their faces in shadow, but Thomas could still see their eyes—wide open, like cats petrified by spotlights. "What the hell is that?" Minho muttered softly. Thomas didn't have the strength to speak, just shook his head wearily. Newt answered the question. "The magic molten liquid that swallows people's heads is that thing." "Should be some kind of new technology." The words came from Ares, the first time Thomas had seen him participate in the discussion.The boy looked around, apparently noticing the frightened faces, then shrugged his shoulders in embarrassment, and continued, "I have a few scattered memories coming back. I know that world has some very advanced technology— — but I don't recall anything flying like this metal ball and chopping off human body parts."

Thomas went back to his own patchy memories, and of course nothing like that came to mind. Minho absently pointed down the steps next to Thomas. "That stuff clots around your face and eats away at the flesh of your neck until it's completely severed. It's awesome, it's awesome." "Did you see that? It's falling from the ceiling!" Frypan said. "We'd better get out of here. Now." "Totally agree," Newt added. Minho looked down at Winston with disgust, and Thomas followed his gaze.The child had stopped shaking, and the crying had calmed down to a muffled whimper.But he looks terrible and definitely has a lot of fear for life.

Thomas couldn't imagine growing hair back from the red, swollen, and riddled scalp on his head. "Frypan, Jack!" Minho called out loudly, "Pick up Winston and help him walk. Ares, you pack up those things he left behind, and ask some brothers to help you get some, we want Gone. I don't care how bright or brutal the light is up there—I don't want my head to be a bowling ball today." Can't wait to see if everyone obeys his order, Minho has already turned around and left.It was a move like this that, for some reason, made Thomas think the guy would end up being a good leader anyway. "Come on, Thomas and Newt," he called over his shoulder, "the three of us go through first."

Thomas and Newt make eye contact, and Newt responds with a look of fear, but mostly curiosity.The desire to keep going.Thomas felt the longing himself, and what he didn't want to admit was that anything else seemed better than dealing with the mess that had happened to Winston. "Let's go," Newt said, his voice rising for the second word, and it sounded like they had no choice but to do as they were told.Although his face gave it away: he wanted to avoid poor Winston as much as Thomas did. Thomas nodded, carefully stepping over Winston, trying not to look at the patch of skin where the wound on the top of his head was, the sight made him sick.He moved aside to let Frypan, Jack, and Ares walk past him to finish their tasks.Then he started walking up the steps, two steps at a time.Following Newt and Minho to the top of the steps, it looked as though the sun itself was waiting for them outside the open door.