Sixteen : Underground
Newt POV
The smoldering remains of the cabin lay before us. Black smoke still rolled off the charred remnants of the foundation, curling through the air in dark plumes. Anything that had been inside was now unrecognizable. The snow surrounding the site was dotted with soot and debris while the smell of wood smoke and melted plastic hung in the air.
It was early morning and the sun had barely risen. Neither one of us had been able to sleep after such a catastrophic night. Eventually we had packed up what little supplies we did have and returned. I couldn't stop thinking about Minho, and how both he and Michael had just disappeared without a trace. Were we meant to think that Michael was dead? Did WICKED really take Minho? Were we supposed to go looking for him or continue on to Fairbanks?
"Newt, check this out." Thomas called out. I had been standing in front of the wreckage in a daze. Thomas was a little ways away in the treeline around the clearing. I looked over at him as he pointed towards a small building. It looked like a typical tool shed, made of logs similar to the cabin and a metal sloped roof and tucked away in the trees. Thomas was already marching towards it. I quickly followed him, crunching through the snow.
Thomas stood in the doorway of the shed, mouth open in shock as he stared at a flat trans. The shiny plane of gray sat at the very back of the shed with nothing else inside. No tools, benches, nothing. I looked over at him nervously.
"Definitely WICKED." I breathed and he nodded, closing his mouth. "So, do we go through?"
"We have to find Minho." Thomas said and gestured towards the flat trans. "This is where Michael brought him."
"How do you know it was Michael?"
"Why else would Michael have this technology here? He's been one of them this entire time." Thomas ran his hands through his hair and sighed.
"What about Fairbanks?"
"This could lead to Fairbanks."
"What about the fire?"
"I don't know, Newt." Thomas dropped his hands and turned to face me. "What on earth has ever made sense when dealing with WICKED? It could have all been just to mess with our heads, get reactions out of us…"
"He still has a dog here."
"Who cares about the dog? It's a Husky, it's built for this weather, it'll be fine."
"No, the dog could be how they're watching us, like the beetle blades." I looked back towards the trees and saw the dog standing out in the distance. He was watching us even now.
"It doesn't matter. We need to find Minho, first and foremost. Fairbanks can wait, WICKED can wait. We can't leave him behind." Thomas said curtly and began walking towards the flat trans. I grabbed his arm.
"Wait, we don't even know where this thing goes." I tried to reason.
"You were the one talking about how there weren't any other options. No matter where it leads, I'm sure it's better than here." Thomas said. We shared a long look before I finally let him go. "Stay close to me."
Thomas stepped right up to the flat trans and took a deep breath. I stood right next to him. Butterflies of anxiety fluttered in my stomach. It was now or never. We stepped forward together. It felt like I had walked through a plane of icy water and it passed over me entirely.
We left the tiny shed in the winter forest and walked into a dark room with no furniture. The flat trans was against the back wall and 5 people were standing around us, all men. Three lunged towards us, all from different angles. Thomas ducked and dodged out of their grasp quickly, sprinting towards the door on the other side of the room. A knee came up into my stomach hard, forcing the air out of me and dropping me to my knees as arms held me down. A grunt from up forward let me know that Thomas had met a similar fate.
"We've been expecting you two," One of the men said and I craned my neck to look up at him, still trying to get enough air. "Welcome to The Underground." He was in his mid 40's, short brown hair, and muscular.
"Who are you people?" Thomas grunted as he struggled against the men.
"People trying to survive." He sneered, motioning to the men holding me. They pulled me onto my feet roughly. "But you can call me Boss."
"Is Michael with you?" I asked, finally getting my lungs to work.
"He is! And he was quite useful, I hear you three are rather important to WICKED."
"So you're not with WICKED?"
"Enough questions." One of the men pulled my arms behind my back painfully and his friend pulled my backpack off. "Start moving." He shoved me forward as Boss opened the door. Thomas and I looked at each other. His nose was bleeding.
We left the room and walked down a short hallway, took several turns, and ended up in another long passageway. Only this one had cells along either wall. It was dark too. Only a few lights hung from the ceiling and cast a dull yellow light over everything. Thomas was shoved into one cell, and I into the one across from him. The metal barred door clanged shut with an ear piercing screech. The men didn't say anything as they walked off and Boss was no longer with us.
"What a turn of events." Thomas sighed, leaning his arms against the door. I rubbed my shoulder and looked around the small room. It was barely 15 feet long and only 10 feet across. The walls and floor were concrete with no windows. A small bed lay against the right wall and a toilet and sink sat in the left corner. Literally a prison cell.
"It's better than the bloody snow and ice."
"We're trapped. At least out there we could move around, get fresh air, and see." Thomas kicked the wall angrily. I slowly sat down on the bed and looked over the metal door. Thick hinges set in the concrete wall, narrowly spaced bars, and a large key lock.
"If they're not with WICKED, there's a chance WICKED will come for us." I looked back at him. He was examining his room.
"Yes, let our enemies fight each other, a brilliant plan."
"I don't hear you coming up with anything better."
"You do realize that if WICKED does come and get us, this entire thing starts over." He flopped onto the bed. I looked down at the concrete floor. "They used Minho as bait. We never should have come to that cabin in the first place."
"We didn't have a choice."
"We could have continued on, ignored him. We should have killed him!" Thomas flung his hands into the air, gesturing in frustration, then brought them down over his face.
"We were starving! On the edge of hypothermia!" I glared at him. "Enough with the 'should have done this'. We're here now, and we need to figure out a plan." Thomas sat up and leaned his back against the wall.
"Minho has to be here somewhere." He said as he stared at the sink. He wiped blood from his nose with his sleeve. "Damnit…"
"They probably set the fire so we didn't have anywhere else to go…" I groaned as I lay out on the bed. It was stiff but better than lying on the hard, frozen ground. I was just enjoying being out of the icy air.
…
I had no idea what time it was. With no windows for natural light, and the constant orange glow from the few overhead bulbs, it was impossible to tell. With nothing better to do, I dozed. On and off for what felt like hours, until a headache put an end to it. I had water from the small sink, but hunger was beginning to sink in again.
A loud bang from a door closing jolted me awake once more. I quickly rolled off the bed and stood shakily by the door as Thomas sat up on his bed. A woman briskly walked into view. She was tall, had flowing red hair, and wore a white button up shirt tucked into high waisted jeans. High heels clicked on the concrete as she turned to face Thomas.
"So you actually have them. Excellent." She looked over at an unseen person. "Has the Chancellor contacted you?"
"She has, but negotiations haven't been met yet." A man's voice answered, and I recognized it as Boss. The woman looked over at me now, her green eyes scanning up and down.
"They look thin, and he's bleeding."
"Alaskan winters are rough, ma'am."
"Have you eaten?" She stared at me. I glanced past her and met Thomas' eyes. He gave a short nod. I shook my head slowly. The woman whirled to face Boss.
"We don't have much, ma'am, barely enough for our own."
"Then scrape something together!" She stormed away and out of sight. Her high heels clicked until the door banged again and silence fell.
"Minho is still here." Thomas whispered. "Our chance will be when he comes to feed us. Be ready."