The Ninth Cloud

Time stood still. Janson lay dead on the floor after our ultimate struggle. The rest of the Gladers sprinted past me in slow motion. Large chuncks of plaster and metal gurdurs fell from the ceiling as the plethora of bombs were set of in unison. One of those chuncks of plaster caught my eye. I followed its trajectory down to the floor. In its path, was Teresa.

I dashed for Teresa with all the speed my adrenaline fueled legs could muster, the montrous piece of ceiling now hanging by a thread. Teresa saw me, looked above her, and her fear-stricken face met mine once again.

I dove, tackling Teresa and avoiding the slab of plaster a split-second before it hit the ground. Teresa and I froze once on the ground, staring into each other's eyes.

Suddenly, a piercing voice cried out like an alarm in my head.

"You guys! We have to get out of here," Brenda shreiked, standing directly in front of the shimmering, grey flat-trans. She turned swiftly and disappeared within its opaque depths.

I gripped Teresa's hand and sprinted towards the glowing teleportation device. Swivling my head around, I saw there were no Gladers still present inside the facility where all of my hell-bent nightmares had come true. Closer and closer, the flat-trans was the final task at hand, and it was only fifty feet away. Forty. Thirty. Twenty. Five.

Darkness was what followed. Only a few beams of sunlight shone through the door of - wherever we were. I looked around the dimmly lit room. Brenda, Minho, Frypan, and Sonya were all there. Teresa. Where was Teresa? I franctically spun around until my eyes spotted her unmistakable slender body. Her long, brown hair was messed up, her clothes torn and her face scattered with cuts and scrapes. I ran towards her and pulled her into a hug. Then Brenda took my hand.

Brenda. How could I forget Brenda? She smiled as we stared at each other for an eternity.

"We made it, Thomas. We beat WICKED." How could she have known that? We didn't even know where we were. For all I knew, we were just in another phase of their sick, twisted plan. Just another leg. Perpetual madness.