Hey guys! I know it's up later than I said it would be and I don't have any good excuse, it just got away from me. Also, chapters are going to be a little shorter from here on out, just because I want it to be as long as the first book or even longer. All that aside, here is the newest chapter, sorry for being late and thank you for reading!
The group followed the stranger cautiously into the next room. It was bigger and brighter than the one they had just previously been in, and the humans staring at them as they moved through didn't seem as ravenous as the Cranks.
Cleo stayed weaseled between Frypan and Newt, eyes scanning over the looming figures that had created a sort of path for them. Dark eyes and menacing grins kept her on edge. Nothing about this place felt safe.
"Come on, keep up. Jorge wants to meet you!" The girl leading them shouted in the front, her head bearing glancing over her shoulders.
"Who's Jorge?" Thomas bounced back, quickening his pace to be right on her heels.
She sent him a playful smirk, "You'll see. No one's come out of the Scorch in a long time. You've just got him curious," Another glance back towards Thomas, her Cheshire grin glistening in the firelight around them, "And me, too."
Thomas fell back in with the others after that, glancing to his side at Teresa, who only blinked in response. Newt nudged Cleo's arm, head swiveling from the men beside him to whisper, "Anyone else starting to get a bad feeling about this place?"
Cleo announced her agreement with a snort, side eyeing him before Thomas looked back at them.
"Let's just hear him out. See what he has to say."
Led upstairs, the group enter a more secluded living space. A man stood with his back to them, completely oblivious to their arrival.
"Jorge, they're here."
The man turned then, hands coming to rest on his hips, let out a deep breath.
The next sentence to come out of his mouth was nowhere close to what Cleo had been expecting.
"Do you ever get the feeling the whole world's against you?"
Looking at one another, the entire group seemed stumped by whatever it was he was trying to get at. They pressed in closer together, eyes wearily scanning over the room around them.
"Three questions," Jorge stepped over towards a table, lifting the glass bottle of what Cleo assumed was alcoholic, "Where did you come from? Where are you going? How can I profit?"
No one said anything.
"Don't all answer at once."
Cleo punched Thomas lightly in the lower back, provoking a cough and a side eye glance from Minho just in front of her.
"We're headed for the mountains. Looking for the Right Arm."
Jorge's eyebrows raised, his head shaking lightly, "You're looking for ghosts, you mean," But nevertheless he continued, "Question number two. Where did you come from?"
"That's our business." Cleo announced before anyone else could speak. She didn't believe any of them would throw them under the bus, but she was sick of this guy and his little followers.
Her statement didn't sit well with the older man, and with a swift wave of his hand, the girl that had led them here in the first place grabbed Thomas's arm and forcefully pushed him forward. With the help of two other men, he was pinned down on the table, a small device placed to the back of his neck.
"Get the hell off me, man!" He struggled, fighting against his restraints.
The girl just smirked, finding no difficulty in the situation, "Shut up, you big baby."
The rest of the group took a collective step forward in regards to saving their friend but when an onslaught of large, dangerous looking men, were forced to take a collective step backwards.
The girl straighten after a moment, Thomas freed and pushed back with the others.
"You were right."
Her words hung in the air threatening. Cleo knew what she meant, even if her friends around her seemed completely dense. Stepping closer into Teresa's side, she waited for whatever fate was about to be bestowed on them.
"I'm sorry, hermano," Jorge spoke calmly, though a grin grew steady on his tired features, "Looks like you're tagged. You came from WICKED."
"Which means," The men surrounding them drew in closer, "You're very valuable."
Cleo latched onto Teresa just as the men grabbed at them. There was a pretty good fight though no one was able to break free. Led into another room, their hands were bound. One by one, they were pulled off to the side where their feet were wrapped in chain and then pushed out over a large pit to dangle upside down. Both girls stayed relatively quiet as they were chained and hung up, swinging and bumping into the boys who seemed a little less calm. Soon enough, the blood rushing to their heads and the knowledge that verbal threats and thrashing about weren't going to help, they tired out and fell into a uncomfortable silence.
"Good plan, Thomas." Minho groaned once the last of Jorge's henchmen disappeared out of the room.
"'Just hear what the man has to say'." Cleo mocked. Even though they weren't facing one another, she could feel the annoying eye roll Thomas was giving her and grinned to herself.
"Really working out for us." Minho concluded.
Thomas groaned back in response, something along the lines of "shut up", before survival skill kicked back in. He wiggled around a bit, trying to pick up momentum, arms outstretched towards the ledge.
His failing attempt to rescue them was cut short with the arrival of Jorge. Peering down on them with a shit eating grin that was just as annoying as Rat Face's but not as uncomfortable, he quirked, "Enjoying the view?"
"What the hell do you want?" Thomas grunted.
Jorge's hands were folded behind his back, his chest protruding out in a confident manner, chin lifted even though he had to look down at the teens, "That is the question. My men want to sell you back to WICKED. Life has taught them to think small," He paused, no doubt to add effect, "I'm not like that."
Cleo wanted to make a sneering remark, since they were in fact hanging from the ceiling over a pit deep enough for there to be nothing left of them once, and if, they hit the bottom. But instead, she kept her mouth shut, trying to angle herself just the right way so she could see Jorge above.
"Something tells me that you're not either."
Minho seemed to have the same feelings as his friend and scoffed, "Is the blood rushing to my head or is this shank not making any sense?"
"Both Minho." Cleo grunted, making sure he, and everyone else, knew how fed up she was with the situation.
"Tell me what you know about the Right Arm." Jorge continued, unfazed by the two teens.
"I thought you said they were ghosts."
"I happen to believe in ghosts. Especially when I hear them chattering on the airwaves," This peaked everyone's interest, and Jorge took the opportunity to kneel face to face with Thomas, "You tell me what you know, and maybe we can make a deal."
Thomas shook his head, "We don't know much."
Jorge was standing again in seconds, reaching for the lever on his left, the chains gave a bit and the teens dropped a little too much for their liking.
"Thomas." Cleo groaned, grabbing at her aching head.
The others around her grumbled and cursed under their breath.
"Okay! Okay, all right. They're hiding in the mountains. And they attacked WICKED. They got out a bunch of kids. That's it," Thomas rambled, "That's all we know."
Before Jorge could respond a bald man entered, calling out to him.
"What's going on?" He asked, stepping up beside him.
Jorge sent a smile at the teens, "Me and my new friends were just getting acquainted. We're done now." This seemed satisfactory for the man and he turned and left, Jorge following behind him as if nothing had happened just seconds before.
"Hey, wait! You're not gonna help us?"
"Don't worry, hermano. We'll get you back to where you belong. Hang tight."
He chuckled at his joke or maybe the groans of the teens and disappeared out of the room. The moment she heard the click of the door, Cleo lifted her hand, using her jeans to pull herself upward, she fiddled with the chain around her ankles.
"What are you doing?" Newt hissed, getting the attention of the others.
"Getting out of here." Cleo gritted.
"And go where? What are you going to do after you get your feet undone?" He pressed, "I don't know if you saw but we are currently dangling over a pit."
Cleo hated that he was right. She dropped backwards, ignoring the jolt it sent through her body and squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel herself swinging from the momentum and got an idea. Opening her eyes, she snapped at Minho.
"Can you reach Teresa? If you both extend your arms." The two did as she asked, finding that they could just barely lock fingers.
"Good, pull her close and twist her so she's facing the ledge," Again they did as she instructed, "Push her."
"Okay?" Minho was hesitant, looking around.
"Teresa, try and grab a hold of the lever just enough to bring us down a couple inches. We can use that long stick thing they pushed us in with to get us out."
A chorus of admiration followed her directions, applauding her thinking skills.
"Minho, ready?" Thomas waved, putting them back on track.
Both Minho and Teresa nodded.
"Okay. One, two, here we go."
Minho shoved Teresa forward. She swung out, just barely missing the lip of the edge and Minho swung back into Newt and Cleo. They steadied him enough so he could grab a hold of Teresa once again.
"Come on, Minho. Push her harder!" Newt hissed.
On the third try, faith was dwindling.
"Alright, alright. This is it. Give it a little more 'umph'." Cleo tried to stay cheerful.
"Okay, one, two, umph." She wasn't sure if Minho was joking or if that was actual sound that escaped as he shoved Teresa forward but it worked. She grabbed a hold of the ledge enough to climb up and untie her feet. Without waiting, she grabbed the lever and lowered the others.
I'm thinking of doing a thing between this story and the Death Cure filled with stories of Cleo in the maze before The Maze Runner series and maybe even before the maze. If you guys have any requests feel free to send them in. It'll be like a filler until the Death Cure comes out!
As always thanks for reading and reviewing and favoriting and all that, you guys are so great! Xx