Authors: James Dashner
He and Alec ran the last few steps, reaching the side of the rotating section of ground at the point of the pivot, only having to jump a couple of feet to safety. They scrambled away to the line of trees and dropped down, slipping behind the same large oak as before for cover. Mark poked his head out to watch the continuation of the spectacle. The upper edge of the circular cutout was now thirty feet in the air, the lower edge fully sunk into the ground and out of sight. It kept rotating to the grind of the laboring gears, which sounded louder now.
“Looks like a coin flipping,” Alec muttered.
“A really big one. Flipping really slowly,” Mark agreed.
Within another minute or so the round piece of land was exactly vertical, half in the ground and half out, still rotating. Soon the earth and bushes were descending upside down and Mark could finally see what lay on the opposite side of the coin: a flat, gray, concrete-like surface with small grooves cut across it in perfectly straight lines. It wouldn’t be long before the large circle rested flat on the valley floor, facing the sky and waiting for something to land on it. Hooks and chains were scattered across the circle of gray for securing whatever did land.
A landing spot
, Mark thought. A landing spot for the Berg. Or Bergs.
“Why aren’t the dirt and plants sliding off the other side?” he asked. “Looks like magic.”
“Probably fake as a rubber glove,” answered the soldier. “Wouldn’t do if they had to come out and resod the whole thing every time they used it, now, would it?”
“It sure looks real. Or did.” He watched in fascination. The piece of moving land had to be a couple of hundred feet across. “Do you think they saw us? Surely they have cameras out here.”
Alec shrugged. “You’d think so. All we can do is hope they’re not looking real hard.”
The coin of land was now at a forty-five-degree angle, and within
minutes of completely sealing the hole in the earth. Mark wondered if Alec was thinking the same thing he was.
“Should we do it?” he asked him. “A Berg might be landing any second—this is our chance.”
At first the man seemed surprised, as if Mark had read his mind. Then a knowing grin crept across his face. “It might be the only way to get inside, eh?”
“Maybe. It’s now or never.”
“Cameras and guards? It’s a big risk.”
“But they have our friends.”
Alec nodded slowly. “Said like a true soldier.”
“Let’s go, then.”
Mark got to his feet but stayed crouched down, leaning against the tree as he snuck out from behind it. He had to move before he changed his mind, and he knew Alec would be right on his heels. There was still about a fifteen-foot open space between the edges of the moving disk and the real land that surrounded it. After a deep breath to psych himself up, Mark sprinted for the left side, wondering if shots would ring out or soldiers would rise out of the darkness in the gap, waiting for them. But nothing happened.
They reached the side of the circle. Mark stopped and dropped to his knees a few feet away, then crawled forward to peek over the edge. Alec did the same, the two of them leaning over the opening. It gave Mark a sick feeling, knowing the descending piece of land was right above him. If it suddenly dropped the last bit without warning, it’d cut them both in two.
It was dark down below, but Mark could see a walkway made of silvery metal—mostly hidden in shadow—that encircled the huge space underneath. There was no light source and no sign of people. He glanced
up and was alarmed at how close the leading edge of the circle had come. They had a couple of minutes, tops.
“We need to hang our feet down and swing onto that,” Mark said, pointing at the walkway—a metal ledge. “Think you can do that?” he added with a grin.
Alec was already on the move. “A lot better than you, kid,” he answered with a wink.
Mark rolled onto his stomach and inched his body over the lip of the opening, lowering his feet into the abyss while he held on to the edge. He gripped the edge of the rim tightly, then began to swing his legs. Alec was two steps ahead of him. The man let go, flying forward to land on the walkway; he crumpled to the ground with a grunt but looked okay. Mark fought off the thought that tried to lodge itself in his mind—of him missing or landing awkwardly, tumbling off to disappear into the darkness. He counted to three in his mind, timing it just right with his legs swinging backward, then letting go as they swung forward.
His momentum made his gaze shift up when he let go, and he caught a last glimpse through the small crescent gap. He saw the flaming blue thrusters of a Berg and its metal underbelly coming down from the sky above. Then he lost the view and crashed on top of Alec.
It took a moment for them to untangle their arms and legs. Alec was cursing and grunting, and at one point Mark started to slip off the edge and the old man pulled him back up, only to resume his cursing. Finally they were standing, straightening their clothes. And then a huge boom sounded throughout the chamber as the mechanism above them slammed shut. Complete darkness enveloped them.
“Great,” Mark heard Alec say. “Can’t see a thing.”
“Pull out the workpad,” Mark replied. “I know the battery’s almost dead, but we don’t have much choice.”
After a grumble of agreement and a scuffling sound, the room lit up with the glow of the workpad’s surface. For a second Mark was back in the tunnels of the subtrans, running with Trina by the glow of his phone. The memories began to flood in, to drown him fully in the horror of that day, but he pushed them away. He had a feeling that the next day or two might do enough to provide him with fresh ones anyway. Sighing, he wondered if he’d ever have a good night’s sleep again.
“I saw a Berg dropping in at the last second before I swung down,” Mark said, bringing his mind fully to the present and the task at hand. “So we know they had at least two before we crashed one of them.”
Alec was shining the face of the workpad in different directions, scoping out the area. “Yeah, I could hear those thrusters. I’m guessing that the landing pad sinks down here and the Berg rolls off, then it goes back and up and rotates again. We better hurry before we have company we don’t want.”
Alec stopped moving the workpad, holding it up to illuminate the entrances to two chambers on opposite sides of the one in which they stood. Grooves in the floor showed where the Bergs were pulled off the landing pad once it sank down. Both cavernous spaces were dark and empty.
The walkway that encircled the abyss in the center chamber was about four feet wide, and as they inched along, it creaked and groaned. The structure held, though Mark’s heart didn’t slow until he’d crossed it completely. Breathing a sigh of relief, Mark walked up to a round door with a wheel handle in the middle, like something in a submarine.
“This place was built a long time ago,” Alec said as he handed the workpad over to Mark. “Probably to protect government executives in case of a world catastrophe. Too bad no one had enough time to make it here—I’m sure most of them fried like the rest.”
“Nice,” Mark said, holding the workpad up so he could examine the door. “You think it’s locked?”
Alec had already stepped forward and grabbed the wheel tightly with both hands, preparing as though it wouldn’t budge. But when he gave it a try it spun a half circle easily, sending him lurching to the side and crashing into Mark. The two of them stumbled and fell onto the walkway, Mark on top.
“Kid,” Alec said. “I’ve been closer to you more today than I’d hoped to be in a lifetime. Now make sure you don’t fall off the edge—I need your help around here.”
Mark laughed as he got to his feet, pushing off on Alec’s gut a little more than he really needed to. “It’s a crying shame you never had kids, old man. Just think what a good grandpa you could’ve been.”
“Oh yeah,” the former soldier replied through a grunt as he stood up. “That would’ve been a lot of fun imagining them all burning to death when the flares struck.”
That killed the mood instantly. Mark felt his own face fall as the words made him think of his parents and Madison. Though he’d never know for sure what had happened to them, his mind was super talented at imagining the absolute worst.
Alec must have noticed. “Oh hell, I’m sorry.” He reached out and squeezed Mark’s shoulder. “Boy, I’m telling you right here and now, with all the sincerity an old buzzard like me can muster, that I’m sorry for what I just said. I don’t envy the losses you felt that day. Not one iota. Work was my family, and it wasn’t the same, I know it.”
Mark had never heard the man say anything like what’d just come out of his mouth. “It’s okay. Really. Thanks.” He paused, then added, “Grandpa.”
Alec nodded, then moved back to the wheel, spun it until there was a loud click. He swung the door open, and it clanged as it struck the wall.
The other side revealed nothing but darkness, though a rumbling hum like the sound of distant machinery grew louder.
“What is that?” Mark whispered. “It almost sounds like there’s a factory or something down here.” He aimed the workpad’s glow through the open doorway, revealing a long hallway that disappeared into darkness.
“Generator, I’m sure,” Alec responded.
“I guess they couldn’t live down here without at least a little electricity. How else would this thing work?” He held the device out in front of him.
“Exactly. We’ve been living in the wild or in the settlements so long. It brings back memories.”
“Bergs, generators … you think they have a ton of fuel stored here or are they bringing it in from somewhere else?”
Alec thought a second. “Well, it’s been a year, and it takes a heap to keep those Bergs afloat. My guess is they’re bringing it in.”
“We keep going?” Mark asked, though the answer was obvious.
“Yep.”
Mark stepped into the hallway first and waited for Alec to join him. “What do we do when someone sees us?” He was whispering, but his voice sounded loud in the confined quarters. “We could use a weapon or two about now.”
“Tell me about it. Look, we don’t have much choice here. And we don’t have a whole lot to lose. Let’s just keep moving and take it as it comes.”
They started off down the hallway when something clanged behind them, followed by squeals and grinding gears. Mark didn’t have to look to know that the landing pad—presumably with a Berg perched on top—had begun to sink into the ground.
Alec acted much calmer than Mark felt. He had to lean in to be heard over the racket. “Let’s wait to see which chamber it goes into and then we’ll hide in the other. We better not get caught in this hallway.”
“Okay,” Mark said, his heart thumping, his nerves on edge. He turned off the workpad; they didn’t need it with the light spilling in from outside.
They went back through the door and pulled it shut, then crouched in the shadows of the walkway as the huge Berg descended. Luckily the cockpit was on the other side, so there was little chance of them being seen. Once it had sunk all the way down, there were more clangs and squeals and the ship started moving on tracks into the chamber to the right. Alec and Mark ran to the opposite chamber and hid in the very back, disappearing into the gloom.
The wait was agonizing, but eventually the Berg found its home. When it stopped moving, the giant landing pad began to move upward again, slowly but surely. Whoever had flown the ship had already disembarked, because Mark could faintly hear voices over the noises, then the sound of the round door being opened.
“Come on,” Alec whispered into his ear. “Let’s follow them.”
They slipped out of the chamber and slinked along the walkway. The Berg passengers had left the door of the exit ajar, and Alec crouched next to it, leaning in to listen. He took a peek. Seemingly satisfied that they were in the clear, he gave Mark a stiff nod and slipped into the hallway once again. Mark followed just as the landing pad above him started to rotate, the bushes and earth and small trees heading back toward the sky.
Voices echoed down the passage ahead of them, but they were too distorted to understand. Alec took the workpad from Mark and slipped it inside his backpack. Then he grabbed Mark’s arm and started pulling him forward, walking close to the wall, his eyes narrowed. Soon everything would be plunged back into darkness.
They crept down the hallway, step by careful step. Whoever had shown up had decided to stop and talk, because their voices became clearer as Mark and Alec continued their pursuit. It sounded like there were only two of them. Alec finally stopped as well, and suddenly Mark could hear every word.
“—just north of here,” a woman was saying. “Burned out like a brick oven. I bet it’s got something to do with those people they caught last night. We’ll know soon enough.”
A man responded. “We better. Like things weren’t bad enough without losing our other Berg. Those jacks in Alaska couldn’t care less about us. Now that everything’s gone weird, I bet we don’t even hear from them again.”
“No doubt,” the woman said. “Can you say expendable?”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t supposed to be
us
. It’s not our fault the virus is mutating.”
The landing pad clanged behind them, presumably done with its rotation. All was dark. The new arrivals started walking away, their
footsteps heavy, as if they wore boots. One of them clicked on a flashlight, the glow from its beam bobbing up ahead. Alec grabbed Mark again and they followed, keeping a safe distance.
The two strangers didn’t speak again until they reached a door. Mark heard the squeak of the hinges as it opened. Then the man said something as they stepped into a room Mark couldn’t see.
“They’ve already got a name for it, by the way. They’re calling it the Flare.”
The door slammed shut.
They hadn’t heard much from the pair, but Mark didn’t like the sound of it. “The Flare. He said they’ve started calling it the Flare. The virus.”
“Yeah.” Alec lit up the workpad again. The glow revealed his face—the face of a man who looked as if he’d never smiled in his life. All sags and creases. “That can’t be good. If something has a nickname, that means it’s big and being talked about. Not good at all.”