Hello again!

First of all, I am once again sooooooooo sorry for the crazy long time it's been since I last updated! I promise I'll try my best to update more frequently in the future.

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Thanks!

-Plerfstacks :)

Chapter 4

Anna spent the night huddled against the wall of the building that they'd taken refuge in. She wasn't the only one, either, as nobody seemed to be in the mood for a pep talk. Anna certainly wasn't in the mood to give them one. She was actually completely exhausted, and after just a minute or so of sitting in their new home, Anna found herself drifting off.

Anna sat up groggily from her position against the wall, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She winced slightly as she attempted to unfold herself from the slumped position she'd been in for more than seven hours.

"You alright?" a voice to her left asked. Anna turned to face whoever was talking, and in doing so she practically gave herself whiplash. She groaned softly as she raised a hand to try and alleviate the crick in her neck.

"No, Newt," she replied finally. "No, I'm not." Newt gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, neither am I," he admitted. "Half of us were bloody blown to smithereens last night, and Minho almost burned to death, and then I slept pressed against a wall and now I probably can't stand up."

Anna cringed sympathetically.

"I forgot about your limp," she said. "Think you'll be okay?"

Newt nodded resignedly.

"I have to be, don't I?" he pointed out. "Can't go whining about my shucking stiff leg when Minho's burnt to a crisp."

"Uh… I guess so," Anna admitted. She didn't know what to say next, so she and Newt fell silent until Thomas spoke up.

"Hey," he said sleepily. "How long've you two been up?" Anna turned to face him.

"Five minutes or so," she replied. "Not long."

"We need to figure out what we should do next," Newt decided. "We can't just sit in this house all day."

"I wouldn't mind it," Thomas admitted. "At least we're not being fried or exploded or sliced with head-eating bowling balls."

Anna had to admit he had a point. Newt had other ideas, though.

"If we stay here, we'll all turn into bloody Flare zombies. We're here to find the cure, if you don't remember, Tommy."

Thomas frowned.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I just—"

"What're you shanks talking about without me?" Minho asked from the floor. He turned his head so he was facing the ceiling. "I'm always left out of stuff."

"Shut up, shank," Anna laughed. "You were sleeping."

"Good point," Minho replied, wincing as he hauled himself into a sitting position.

"You don't look great," Newt commented as he looked at Minho.

"Thanks for noticing," Minho replied.

"What even happened to you?" Anna asked.

"He got hit by lightning," Thomas responded for Minho. "I don't know how it didn't blow him up."

Anna gaped at them for a second before speaking again.

"Lightning?" she asked incredulously. "I don't believe that for a second."

"It's true," Minho confirmed. Anna frowned.

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't explode," she said after a second.

"Yes, I make it a practice to feel grateful every day that I haven't exploded lately," Minho replied. "I find it very refreshing."

"Shut your hole," Anna laughed.

"I'm just saying it how it is."

"Alright, enough with the small talk, you two," Newt said. "We need to figure out what to do."

"First step is food," Anna replied. "We lost a lot in the storm. And water, too. I'm pretty sure that most of our water was spilled in the process of running for our lives."

"Then we need to get going soon," Thomas pointed out. "We don't want to starve half to death like last time."

"Alright, then I guess we should wake everyone up and—"

Newt was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice from above them.

"You need food? We've got food."

Anna whipped around in the general direction of the mysterious voice. Peering through a hole in the ceiling was a young man with messy black hair and a slightly worrying glint in his eyes. Anna and the others didn't even have time to stand up before he'd dropped to the floor amidst them.

"Hello," Anna said cautiously. "Who are you?"

"My name's Jorge. I run this group of Cranks," he replied, sticking his hand out for her to shake. He still had that look in his eyes, though, and that alone prevented Anna from grasping his hand. She nodded in greeting instead.

"Anna," she replied. "You say you have food?"

"That's right, hermana," Jorge said. "If you'll behave yourselves, we've got plenty. You're the leader of your group?"

Anna nodded.

"Yeah. What do you mean, behave ourselves?"

"Oh, you know, the usual thing. Don't try anything funny, or I'll be forced to overpower you and then slowly kill you one by one until the only one left is the one who caused the trouble in the first place."

Anna blinked, unsure whether this man was completely sane. Of course he's not, she realized abruptly. He's a Crank. Anna was about to say something else when Minho spoke up.

"Why the shuck would we try and behave ourselves when there're eleven of us and one of you? Seems like you should be the one behaving yourself."

Jorge looked at Minho with a blank expression.

"You had better apologize right now," he said calmly, the off-putting glint in his eyes much more obvious now. He began to count down from ten. When Minho didn't say anything, Jorge kicked his leg. Anna gave a stifled gasp of surprise as Minho cried out and clutched at his burnt and blistered calf. Choking out a reluctant apology, Minho sat up shakily. Jorge smirked smugly, but the look was wiped off his face as Minho's foot swung around and hit Jorge in the back of the leg, knocking him off balance and giving Minho the opportunity to jump on top of him. Anna and Newt simultaneously ran forward and dragged Minho off of Jorge, but as he stood up, Anna could tell that it was too late. His expression was full of murderous, barely contained rage, and Anna wasn't sure if she could do anything.

"You shouldn't have done that, muchacho."

"Hold on," Anna stepped in. "Let's just settle this in a civil, orderly—"

"Oh, civil and orderly, hermana?" Jorge interrupted her. "Alright, then. Let's you and me have a civil and orderly chat about what I'm gonna do with your friend, here."

Anna was suddenly very nervous. She did not, under any circumstances, want to be alone with this mentally unstable man and try to discuss how to resolve an argument. Anna looked around and realized that she was the only one who could really serve as a diplomat, as she had already told Jorge that she was the leader.

"Alright, then," she replied. "I guess I don't have a choice."

"No, you don't," Jorge agreed, his tone tinged with malice. He clapped his hands once, and Anna jumped as thirty or so people leapt from the ceiling and landed around the group.

"Brenda, you watch these kids," Jorge said. "We'll only be a minute."

A tall girl with a light brown ponytail gave a nod at Jorge, and Anna could only assume that she was Brenda.

Anna took a deep breath and followed Jorge down the hall. He stopped at the end of the hallway and folded his arms across his chest.

"What do you say, muchacha?" Jorge said. "What do you want me to do with them?"

"Look," Anna said, trying to sound rational. "We don't need much. All we want is some food and possibly other supplies, and then we'll leave. You said that you've got plenty."

"Ah, but I said that I'd only give it to you if you proved yourselves," Jorge reminded her. "If I'm not mistaken, your friend ruined that for all of you."

"I'll talk to him," Anna promised.

"Talk to him?" Jorge repeated, cocking an eyebrow. "No. I don't want you to talk to him. Let me kill him and we have a deal."

Anna froze. She wasn't gonna let Jorge kill Minho, that was for sure. But she wasn't sure how to get out of the situation.

"No," she said. "No, you can't kill him. I'd rather leave without the supplies."

"From the looks of it, you'll die anyway. And besides, we have the run of this city. We'll find you."

"Look, there has to be a deal we can make or something," Anna said desperately. Jorge frowned thoughtfully.

"Alright, muchacha," he replied slowly after a moment, an evil spark in his eye. "You go back and join your group. I'll tell you later what I plan to do with your disrespectful friend."

Anna did not like the sound of that. She nodded, however, and backed away slowly. Once she was out of the dark hallway, she turned around and rejoined the other Gladers.

"What did he say?" Newt asked her immediately.

"I persuaded him not to kill Minho, but he is gonna do something to him. He hasn't told me what it is."

"I'm not scared of that shank," Minho said. Anna wheeled around and glared at him.

"Yeah? Well, you should be. He's a shucking Crank, and he's capable of killing us all without batting an eyelash. I suggest you shut your shuck trap and be thankful that I just saved your butt."

Minho looked surprised at Anna for snapping at him like that, and apparently she'd shocked him enough that he obeyed her. By this time, Jorge had joined the rest of the group.

"Alright," he said. "Brenda, you and I will take these kids upstairs and give them some food. The rest of you, go away."

The Cranks dispersed, and Jorge and Brenda began shepherding the Gladers up the stairs. Anna didn't know why, but she immediately disliked Brenda. She didn't even know why. Something about her rubbed Anna the wrong way. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she kept sidling up beside Thomas on the way up, and how she sat with the side of her body practically pressed up against Thomas, who looked vaguely uncomfortable. Though Anna had never liked Thomas much, this still bothered her.

Anna silently glared at Brenda across the room as she ate room-temperature sausages and beans from a can. Jorge was seated across from her and was looking bored. He spoke up suddenly.

"What is your group trying to do out here in the Scorch, anyway?" he asked. "There's nothing for you here."

"Well, we were told by WICKED that we were able to find a cure out here, so that's where we're going," Anna replied coolly. Jorge's expression went abruptly from unimpressed to interested.

"A cure?" he asked. "Why didn't you say something?" Anna shrugged. Jorge tilted his head to the side.

"You know, hermana, if you were to take Brenda and myself with you to this so-called cure, I may or may not forget about what I was planning to do to your friend over there."

Anna frowned.

"I don't know if WICKED will let you two have it," she replied. "But if you want to, then I guess…"

"Alright," Jorge said. "It's settled."

Their conversation was cut off as Jorge suddenly stood up, jerking his head to the side, and gestured for Brenda to come over. She reluctantly got up from her a-little-too-friendly position next to Thomas and walked to where Jorge was standing. The two of them exchanged whispers for a moment before Anna became aware of the sound of concrete crumbling and wood splintering. She jumped to her feet, tugging Newt up with her, and glanced wildly around at the rapidly collapsing building before realizing that the only way to go was down. She ran for the staircase on pure instinct, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Minho, Aris, Newt, and the others going in the same direction as she was. The group of Gladers ran down into a hallway, where Jorge grabbed a door handle and yanked it open, revealing a bright strip of sunlight. He and Anna made sure the whole group was through before heading out themselves, and they ran for fifty yards or so before turning back. The building was practically rubble, and Anna shivered at the thought of being stuck under all that.

As she turned to face the others, Anna realized that they were missing two of their number.

"Thomas and Brenda," she said hollowly. "Where are Thomas and Brenda?"

"Still in there, I guess," Jorge said, and despite his nonchalance, his expression made it clear that he was worried. "Brenda's a tough girl. She'll get them out of it."

Anna nodded.

"Is everyone okay?" she asked. There were a few muttered replies, mostly "no," but nobody seemed to be seriously injured.

Anna decided that the group should keep moving, in case the person who'd blown up the building they'd been in before wanted to come back. The group didn't protest, so Anna and Jorge led them away from the city. They went in the direction that WICKED had instructed the Gladers to walk so long ago, and nobody said anything as they trekked through the sand towards their goal.