Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Scorch Trials nor any of the characters from it.
CHAPTER NINE:
Scorch: Separated By Exploding Buildings…
Day Four – Part Two – The Scorch Trials
As Thomas walked down the hallway with Jorge, the rest turned to each other, uncertainty plastered on their faces.
"So, what do we do now?" Leo asked, looking around the room to see all of those people still surrounding them with weapons.
"You wait," a woman said as she held a knife, taking a step closer to them. "Unless you want an arm cut off."
"Uh, no thanks, I'm alright with having both of my arms."
She noticed Newt rolling his eyes slightly, giving her a glance that told her to be careful about what she said. Then he pointed at Minho as an example.
"W-What's happening?" a shaking Emil asked from one of the corners of the room, noticing all the people surrounding them.
"Nothing good," Minho responded, making everyone glare at him. It wasn't like they weren't in any serious trouble because of him or anything.
"Where are you headed?" a male from the crowd asked, his eyebrows raised.
The Gladers glanced at each other, not sure of what they should tell these people. Could they actually tell these Cranks who were threatening their lives about WICKED and the Trials?
"Away from the Scorch," Leo replied, which wasn't technically a lie. They were aiming to get out of the Scorch, but she just left out a few detours they'd have to take.
"No shit, Sherlock," the man replied, his eyes narrowing at her form as he raised his weapon higher.
"All right, everybody listen!" Jorge announced when they re-entered the large torn-up room. Everyone turned to them, noticing how nervous or worried Thomas seemed to look. "Me and the bird-face here have come to a resolution."
Bird-face? Well, that's an interesting nick-name.
The Cranks in the room stood at attention, glaring at all of the Gladers as they gripped onto their weapons tighter. Jorge came to a stop in the middle of the room, slowly turning to address the entire group.
"First, we need to get these people food. I know it seems crazy to share our hard-earned grub with a bunch of strangers, but I think we could use their help. Give 'em the pork and beans—I'm sick of that horse crap anyway."
One of the Cranks in the crowd snickered.
"Second, being the grand gentleman and saint that I am, I've decided not to kill the punk who attacked me."
A few of the Cranks groaned in disappointment. She wondered how badly their brains had been damaged by the Flare at that point, and how much longer they had before they'd turn into those creatures. Past the Gone.
But there was one girl who seemed different from the rest of them. She was a pretty, older teenager with long hair that was somehow clean. She rolled her eyes at the groans, shaking her head.
Jorge pointed at Minho, who, of course, smiled and waved at the crowd.
Idiot…
"Pretty happy, are you?" Jorge grunted. "That's good to know. Means you'll take the news well."
"What news?" Minho asked sharply.
"After we get you stragglers fed so you don't go dying of starvation on us, you get to have your punishment for attacking me."
"Oh yeah? And what's that gonna be?"
Jorge just stared back at Minho—a blank expression spread eerily across his face. "You punched me with both of your fists. So we're gonna cut a finger off each hand."
All of the Glader's breathes caught in their throat as they glanced over at Minho and then at Jorge. Jorge didn't look too bothered, almost calm in a sense that it could put you at ease, even with the Cranks hollering in the background.
Minho however, wasn't to calm about it.
He stood up and was just about to charge at Jorge until the girl stepped right in front of him with a blade under his chin, drawing a drop of blood that trickled down his skin. He couldn't even make a sarcastic comment without that knife cutting straight through the skin.
"Here's the plan," Jorge said calmly. "Brenda and I will escort these moochers to the stash, let 'em eat up. Then we'll all meet on the Tower, let's say one hour from now." He looked at his watch. "Make that noon on the dot. We'll bring up lunch for the rest of you."
"Why just you and Brenda?" someone asked. "What if they jump you? There's twelve of them to two of you."
Jorge squinted, scoffing at the thought. "Thanks for the math lesson, Barkley. Next time I forget how many toes I have, I'll be sure and spend some counting time with you. For now, shut your flapping lips and lead everybody to the Tower. If these punks try anything, Brenda will slash Mr. Minho to tiny bits while I beat the living hell out of the rest of 'em. They can barely stand they're so weak. Now get!"
Relief poured through Leo as the Cranks were separated from them. Surely this meant for them to run and escape and not that he was going to actually punish Minho by cutting his fingers off.
There was a man named Barkley who was quite old, but he looked tough with his veined muscles poking out from the sleeves of his shirt. In one hand, he held a dagger and in the other a big hammer.
"Fine," he said after a long stare down with his leader. "But if they do jump you and slit your throat, we'll get along just fine without ya."
"Thanks for the kind words, hermano. Now get, or we'll have double the fun on the Tower."
Barkley laughed, almost as if to save some of his dignity, right before he walked down the hallway that Thomas and Jorge had disappeared down not long ago. He waved his arm in a "follow me" gesture and soon every single Crank shuffled after him expect Jorge and the girl with the long brown hair. Her knife remained at Minho's neck, threatening to stab him at any second.
Once the main group of Cranks left the room, Jorge gave an almost relieved look, then subtly shaking his head. Brenda dropped the knife from Minho's neck and took a step back, wiping the small trace of blood off on her pants.
"I really would've killed you, ya know," she said in a slightly scratchy voice. Almost husky. "Charge Jorge again and I'll sever an artery."
Minho wiped at the small wound with his thumb, looking down at the red smudge it had caused. "That's one sharp knife. Makes me like you more."
Newt and Frypan groaned in unison as Leo shook her head, rolling her eyes.
"Really, Minho?" Leo asked, folding her arms.
"Looks like I'm not the only Crank standing here," Brenda responded. "You're even more gone than me."
"None of us are crazy yet," Jorge added, walking over to stand next to her. "But it won't be long. Come on. We need to get over to the stash and put some food in you people. You all look like a bunch of starved zombies."
Minho didn't seem to like the idea. "You think I'm just gonna waltz over to have a sit-down with you psychos, then let you cut my freaking fingers off?"
"Just shut up for once," Thomas snapped, trying to communicate something different with his eyes. "Let's go eat. I don't care what happens to your beautiful hands after that."
Minho squinted in confusion, but seemed to pick up that something was off. "Whatever. Let's go."
Brenda suddenly stepped in front of Thomas, her face only a few inches away from his. "You the leader?"
Thomas shook his head. "No—it's the guy you just nipped with your knife."
Brenda glanced over at Minho, and then back at Thomas with a grin. "Well, then that's stupid. I know I'm on the verge of crazy, but I would've picked you. You seem like the leader type."
"Um, thanks. I, uh, would've picked you, too, instead of Jorge over there."
She leaned forward, closing the gap as she kissed him on the cheek, starling some of the remaining Gladers in the room.
Boy, she moves fast…Guess being a Crank will do that to you.
"You're sweet. I really hope we don't end up killing you, at least."
"All right." Jorge was already motioning everyone toward the broken doors that led outside. "Enough of this lovefest. Brenda, we have a lot to talk about once we get to the stash. Come on, let's go."
She couldn't take her eyes off of Thomas. "I like you," she said.
"Like we couldn't tell," Leo muttered under her breath.
"Cause the kiss didn't give it away," Newt whispered to her, which almost made her laugh. But she knew if she did, she probably would have been treading on thin ice.
Thomas swallowed as Brenda's tongue touched the corner of her mouth as she grinned, turning away from him and walking to the door. "Let's go!" she yelled without looking back.
Every Glader was staring at Thomas, all wondering the same thoughts. Thomas refused to make eye contact as he hitched up his shirt and walked forward, a slight smile on his face.
"And, we've lost him," Leo whispered before she started following behind.
"It's the third girl he's seen," Minho responded. "I understand why."
"You wouldn't mind even if she threatened to kill you," she said and he nodded.
"I like a challenge."
"You're ridiculous," Newt said which made Minho shrug as they continued down the hallway, exiting the building and emerging into the boiling hot heat of the white sun. Brenda led the group while Jorge took the back.
Leo squinted her eyes as she tried to adjust to the sudden brightness as they walked closer to the wall with a small amount of shade. There were other buildings and streets, but they all seemed to glow as if they were made by magic. It was beautiful in a strange and blinding way.
Brenda moved along the walls of the building until they reached what everyone assumed to the back entrance. There were a set of steps that disappeared into the pavement, like an entrance to the underground train.
She didn't hesitate as she bounced down the stairs, the knife that had been previously placed in her pocket now back in her hands as she gripped it tightly. They quickly followed her, all eager to escape the glaring sun and to get some food into their stomachs.
Leo groaned in pain as she held onto her stomach, the thought of food sending her mind into a frenzy as she continued to walk. It reminded her of the three days they had spent without food, all sitting in the dorms and common room, slowly fading away.
Darkness swallowed them, the pitch black welcoming and cool. She followed the sound of footsteps in front of her until they had reached a small doorway which shone a bright glow of orange. Brenda went inside, and Thomas hesitated before he stepped inside.
Newt gave her a hand a single squeeze before she sighed and took a step inside, not knowing if this was going to end in a trap or not. Instead, it was a small, damp room filled with boxes and cans. A single lightbulb hang from the ceiling, lighting up the room with its small light. It looked way too small for all of them to fit, even with their shortened numbers.
"You and the others can stay out there in the hallway, find a wall and sit. I'll start bringing out some tasty delights for you in a sec."
The crowd quickly headed back out into the hallway, going back into the darkness of the hallway. She sat down next to the wall beside the rest of the Gladers, Newt being to her right and Minho on her left. Thomas remained further away from the rest, and she wondered why he was being so distant from the only people he knew.
She shook her head as she played with her hands, awaiting for the taste of any kind of food to enter her mouth. Even though what they had been given were canned beans and a type of sausage with the label written in Spanish. It was served cold, but it still tasted like one of the best meals she had ever had. She watched as some of the other Gladers devoured the food, no matter how much Newt protested and told them to take it slow.
She took a few bites at a time, though her stomach screamed in protest as her mind wanted her to devour the entire thing in one bite. However, she knew that it would end up being wasted if she threw it up.
After Brenda had passed out all of the food, she took a second to glance at Leo, wondering why she seemed different from the others. "What's up with you?" she asked.
Leo raised her head from her food, not sure what she meant.
"What do you mean?" she asked with a mouth full of food, but Brenda didn't seem disgusted with her. She was probably used to it by now.
Brenda studied her a little longer, her mind racing with questions she knew she couldn't ask. She hesitated before she sighed. "Never mind, it's nothing." She then walked over to sit beside Thomas.
"What was that about?" Minho asked as he watched the girl leave. "And why is she hanging around Thomas so much?"
"I didn't know you were that desperate for attention from a girl," Leo said.
"I can't help it. It's male instinct. No, but seriously, what was that about?"
She shook her head as she glanced down at her food. "I have no idea."
Brenda set down a couple of backpacks filled with cans by her side. "One of these is for you," she said to Thomas.
"Thanks."
The three listened into their conversation as they continued eating their food, wanting to know if they could really trust Brenda or not. I mean, they had just appeared out of nowhere with weapons, threatening to kill them. And for that matter, could they really trust anyone other than themselves anymore?
"Taste good?" she asked as she dug into her own food.
"Please. I'd push my own mom down the stairs to eat this stuff. If I still have a mom."
"You get sick of it fast," Brenda said, pulling Thomas out of his head.
"We only have about four or five options." Thomas concentrated on clearing his mind, bringing his thoughts back to the present.
"Where'd you get the food? And how much is left?"
"Before this area got scorched by the flares, this city had several food manufacturing plants, plus a lot of warehouses to hold the food. Sometimes I think that's why WICKED sends Cranks here. They can at least tell themselves that we won't starve while we slowly go crazy and kill each other."
"If there's plenty, why do you only have a few options?"
"We've only scoured the closest ones. Some company that specialized, not much variety. I'd kill your mother for something fresh out of a garden. A nice salad."
"Guess my mom doesn't have much of a chance if she's ever standing between us and a grocery store."
"Guess not."
Leo put her food to the side as she ran her hand through her wig, wondering if WICKED was watching them right now with secret cameras somewhere. She glanced around the darkened room, but she could only make out the figures of the Gladers close to her. If there were any, there was no chance she would know.
But she always could be paranoid.
And if WICKED could see them now, why wouldn't they be doing anything about the large group of Cranks. Could this encounter be part of their plan? But how could they plan that far in advance that the Gladers would happen to run to this building from the storm? Then again, how could they predict that there would be a storm at this location?
It all seemed impossible, but WICKED made those dead bodies disappear and made them believe an artificial sky was real, so she guessed anything was possible.
"Does the world still have grocery stores?" he asked. "I mean, what's it like out there after all this Flare business? Really hot, with a bunch of crazy people running around?"
"No. Well, I don't know. The sun flares killed a lot of people before they could escape to the north or south. My family lived in northern Canada. My parents were some of the first ones to make it to the camps set up by the coalition between governments. The people who ended up forming WICKED later."
"Wait … wait a second," he said. "I need to hear all this. Can you start from the beginning?"
"Not much to tell—happened a long time ago. The sun flares were completely unexpected and unpredictable, and by the time the scientists tried to warn anyone, it was way too late. They wiped out half the planet, killed everything around the equatorial regions. Changed climates everywhere else. The survivors gathered, some governments combined. Wasn't too long before they discovered that a nasty virus had been unleashed from some disease-control place. Called it the Flare right from the beginning."
"Man," Thomas muttered.
So the entire world really had been affected. Then that place in her dreams really was London and not that just her mind playing tricks on her. Those Cranks, that street, those houses, they were all real.
She preferred it when she thought it was just a dream.
Why did WICKED have to play with her emotions so much?
"When did—"
She shushed him, holding a hand up. "Wait," she said. "Something's wrong. I think we have visitors."
Newt and Leo looked at each other, not having heard anything unusual. None of the other Gladers reacted, so they mustn't have heard anything either. But Jorge had already moved past them and stood at Brenda's side, whispering something into her ear. Just as she moved to stand up, there was an explosion from down the hall where the stairs had been located.
Leo screamed at the horrid sound as the crumpling and cracking sound indicated the building falling apart. Cement breaking. Metal ripping. Clouds of dust heading towards them as it destroyed the light from the food room.
Leo pushed to her feet as she ran towards the stairs, the others following not too far behind to see the completely destroyed stairs.
"Shit!" Leo cursed as she looked at the destroyed rubble of their exit. "Shit-"
"Leo, calm the shuck down," Minho growled as he tried to look around for some kind of exit. "There! Down here!" he shouted as he ran down a hallway which she hadn't even noticed before. She quickly started running after him as did the others.
"Run!" Brenda screamed from back where they had been before.
"No! We have to follow my fr—"
Thomas was cut off before he finished his sentence as an entire section of the roof come crashing down onto the floor behind them, blocks of cement falling down on top of each other. She screamed as they caved in behind her and the Gladers, the fracturing rock separating them and Jorge from Brenda and Thomas.
"Quickly! Follow me!" Jorge shouted as he took the lead, continuing to head down the dark tunnel as the building continued to fall apart.
"Hurry!" Minho shouted as he took off into a run, following closely behind Jorge.
"What about Thomas?" one of the Gladers shouted.
"No time, we've got to go," Newt said as he grabbed hold of Leo's hand and ran, more of the roof crumbling down around them as they sprinted down into the darkness, hoping they would make it to the other side.
