Electricity webbed over Janson as he pulled the trigger and the bullet flew by my face, grazing my cheek and nicking my ear.
What?
Everything stopped. The sound of the Berg closing. The guns and Launchers. Even the voices in my head stopped. For once, it was completely silent.
No one knew whose Launcher had hit Janson, but I was damn glad it missed it's target.
Or was I?
No. I am. When I die, it will be on my terms. Whether that be tomorrow or a few years from now.
I walk towards the Berg shaking all over.
The eyes of the guards and barrels of their two different types of guns following my movements.
The door was 3 feet above the floor of the hangar, but Minho and Newt helped me up.
It was quite hard seeing as there was only a 2 foot wide gap between the door and the Berg. And that was the widest part!
Once I was safely inside, the Berg started up again, and the door closed all the way.
We moved to the sitting room, where Thomas was already snoring slightly on the ripped couch.
I collapsed in a recliner, and almost fell asleep along with thomas when Minho spoke up and said, "So are there 127 of these things?"
"Nope. There were more. A lot more. Around 5000 more. But most were destroyed during the flares and by the Cranks and floods, but a base down in what used to be most of the United States of America took about half of the operating ones before WICKED could get to them." I explained.
It was a lot of information, and I was thankful that Minho pretended to understand what I was saying because no sooner had I said that, my eyelids started to droop and I was put into a blissful sleep with no dreams that was welcomed with open arms.
I open my eyes to see that it was dark outside the windows, the window covers were pulled down, we weren't moving, and the lights were off.
What a great way to wake up.
We must be in a place where Cranks might be around…
I slowly stood up, and walked around the ship to find Jorge.
As soon as I opened the door to the corridor, Jorge almost ran into me because he was reaching for the handle.
"What happened?" I asked him.
"Don't worry, I was gettin' tired and I figured it would probably be best to take a break than crash because I couldn't keep my eyes open." He told me.
"D'you know where we are?"
"Somewhere in what's left of Canada." Jorge said. "Towards Montana I think. Or we might still be in Alaska. Juno maybe…" He pursed his lips. "Those damn guards shot the control panel with a Launcher. Broke something in the GPS or whatever it's called now." Jorge ranted on.
"It's fine, so we are in Western Canada. Okay, not a lot of Cranks out here I believe. There may be some of those crazies from the Cranks who still worship that… whatever it is. Man, they burnt down almost a whole forest a few weeks before Teresa came to WICKED. Why was there even a working Flat Trans out there?" I furrowed my eyebrows as I thought.
Sadly, almost as if the Cranks had heard me, the singing started.
"Jorge," I said in a warning voice.
"On it." He replied, and there was soon a dent a few feet down the curved hall where a Crank had probably banged their head into the Berg.
I stumbled back into the sitting room.
Then there was another dent. One from underneath. It was small though because the metal was thick there, and so it was just an annoying, small little bump in the floor.
No doubt there would be smears of blood where these new dents are.
Then there was a thud. The thud of the Berg starting up.
I swear if this Berg doesn't start flying soon, I might just jump out a window. It might only be a few feet off the ground, but I will jump out a window.
To not jix myself, I knocked on the wooden surface of a small coffee table that was screwed into the flooring so it wouldn't move around, just like all of the other weathered furniture in any of the rooms.
The dim lights turned brighter as Jorge started up his Berg again.
Soon, another dent was in the wall beside the window. It was a small dent like a rock was thrown at the Berg.
If the Cranks were trying to hit the window, they need some help on their aim.
I heard a few more rocks and heads being smashed against the metal walls.
Jorge, hurry up! I silently prayed.
Man, these people are heavy sleepers! I'm surprised no one else has woken up yet!
After a few rocks and heads and dead animals (I think I saw that through the window which I opened the covering for, so I could get a glimpse at what we were up against) were thrown towards the hull, we lifted off the ground, and finally Minho woke up.
"What happened?" He asked as he tried to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.
"Nothing." I told him.
He got up and walked towards the corridor, but tripped on the little bump left by the person who smashed their head against the bottom of the Berg.
I started to laugh, and as soon as this happened, Brenda and Newt woke up (Thomas was still recovering from being shot by a Launcher).
"Wha-?" Newt cut himself off with a yawn.
"Nothing." I answered yet again, then pushed Brenda over in her sleepy state and stepped over Minho who who was still lying on the floor in confusion on my way to the control room.
AN : And you thought she was gonna be dead, ha!
By the way, did anyone see The Scorch Trials? And if you did, did you hate it as much as I did? THE ENDING WAS HORRIBLE, WHY DID JAMES LET THIS MONSTROSITY INTO MOVIE THEATRES? I bet Wes is gonna mess up The Death Cure and The Kill Order because THEY MESSED UP TERESA'S BACK STORY AND ASDFGHJKL, I GO DIE NOW COZ OF FEELS.
DID YOU HEAR JAMES DASHNER IS COMING OUT WITH ANOTHER PREQUEL TO TMR? IT'S CALLED THE FEVER CODE AND COMES OUT NEXT SEPTEMBER! DON'T YELL AT ME IF I'M WRONG 'CAUSE I LEARNED IT FROM INSTAGRAM.
Okay, that's enough fangirling, see ya, buh bye!