Chapter 22 Chapter 22 Another Dream

Minho put them to sleep for nearly four hours, but he didn't have to wake everyone up.The sun climbed higher and higher, scorching the whole earth more and more fiercely, the heat was unbearable, and there was no way to ignore it.Thomas woke up and repacked his breakfast, sweat soaking his clothes.The smell of body odor hung over them like a foul-smelling mist, and he just hoped he wasn't the smelliest.For them, taking a shower in the dormitory has now become the most luxurious enjoyment. The Gladers were ready to go, still gloomy and very quiet.The more Thomas thought about it, the more he realized there wasn't much to be happy about.But there are still two things that keep him going, and he hopes the same will be true for everyone else.First there was a burning curiosity to find out what was going on in that silly little town--it looked more and more like a city as they got closer.The second is that he hopes Teresa is still alive and well.Maybe she's already gone through one of the plane traversers.Perhaps she was ahead of them now, even in that city.Thinking of this, Thomas was elated.

"Let's go." When everyone was ready, Minho said to everyone, and they set off. They walked across dry mud, dusty everywhere.Needless to say, Thomas knew in his heart that everyone was thinking the same thing—that the sun had risen and they had no energy left to run.Even if they could run, there wouldn't be enough water to sustain them while running. So they just walk around with the sheets on their heads.With less and less water and food, more packs can be unfurled for sun protection.This way, fewer Gladiators need to go in pairs.Thomas was one of the first to go alone, probably because no one wanted to talk to him after hearing Teresa's story.He will definitely not complain, because loneliness is happiness at the moment.

Walk.Stop occasionally to eat or drink.Walk.It was hot, as if they had to swim across a dry ocean.The wind, now growing stronger, brought more dust and grit, but did nothing to relieve the heat.The wind lifted the sheets and it took an effort to hold them down.Thomas kept coughing, and kept wiping clods of dirt from the corners of his eyes.He felt like every gulp made him want more water, but the worst part was, they were running out of water.If they get to that city and there's no fresh water in it... Don't think about it that way, it's not going to end well. They walked on, each step seeming to be more and more painful.There was silence, no one spoke, and Thomas felt that even a few words would take too much energy.All he could do was put one foot in front of the other, repeating the motion over and over, staring lifelessly at their destination—the ever-approaching city.It seemed that the complex was alive, and as they approached, they grew before their eyes.It wasn't long before Thomas could see that it must be made of stone, the windows glimmering in the sunlight.Some windows were broken, but far fewer than half were broken.From Thomas' vantage point, the streets appeared to be deserted.No one lit the fire in broad daylight.As far as he could judge, not a single tree, or any other kind of vegetation, survived in that place.How can plants survive in this climate?How is it possible for people to live there?How to grow food?What will they discover?

Tomorrow, although it will take longer than Thomas thought, he firmly believes that they will reach the city tomorrow.While it would be best for them to take a detour, they had no choice, and they needed resupply. Walk, rest, heat. When night fell, the sun finally disappeared in the far western horizon at an extremely slow speed.The wind was stronger, bringing a slight chill.Thomas was enjoying it, and he really thanked God for not being so hot. At midnight, the city and its burning flames got closer, and Minho called everyone to stop and sleep for a while.At this time, there was already a strong wind, flying sand and rocks.Not long after they stopped, Thomas lay on his back, tucking in the sheets, which he pulled tightly up to his chin, and looked up at the sky.He was so tired that his consciousness was blurred and the stars seemed to disappear.The wind slowed down, and he fell into a deep sleep and went to another dreamland.

He was sitting in a chair, ten or eleven years old.Teresa--looking so different, so young, and yet it was her--sat across from him, with a table between them.She was about the same age as him, and there was no one else in the room, it was pitch black except for a dim yellow light on the ceiling above her head. "Tom, you need to try harder," she said.She folded her hands, even at this younger age, he didn't find it surprising.Everything was so familiar, as if he had known her for a long time. "I'm trying." It was strange that he was speaking, but not really him.

"If we don't, they will probably kill us." "I know." "Then do it!" "I'm trying!" "Okay," she said, "you know what, I'll never speak to you again, never again, until you make it." "but……" Not talking to you in your head anymore.She said in his head that it made him feel like he was going to break even more, but he still couldn't respond, now. "Teresa, just give me a few more days, I can do it." She doesn't answer. "Okay, just one day." She just stared at him, after, not just that.She looked down at the table and reached out to scrape the spots on the wood with her nails.

"You won't talk to me again." There was no response, he understood her, even though he had just said that.Oh, he knows her. "Okay." He closed his eyes and did as the coach told him, imagining a black sea of ​​nothingness, a vast expanse, in which Teresa's face flashed.Then, with the last bit of willpower, he conceived a sentence and said to her: You smell like shit. Teresa laughed and responded in his head: The same to you.