A/N: So... I've been a bit busy lately, but I have chapter for you all!
READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!
I almost laughed. Almost.
"Me and you. Ten minutes. Alone. That's all I ask. Bring all the weapons need."
Jorge laughed at that. Or well, I guess a laugh wasn't quite the right word. It was more of a snort than anything. "Sorry to burst your bubble, kid, but I don't think I'll need any."
He paused and it seemed to last forever.
"Ten minutes," The Crank said. "Rest of you stay here, watch these punks. If I give the word, let the death games begin." He held out a hand, gesturing towards a dark hallway that led from the room on the opposite side of the broken doors.
"Ten minutes," He repeated sternly.
Thomas nodded and went first when Jorge didn't move, walking towards the meeting place where he would negotiate for our lives.
Minho got off me quickly, his face hardening a minute as the pain I was sure he was feeling washed over him. He shook it off, holding out a hand to help me to my feet. I rolled my eyes, but let him do so anyway.
"You're insane," I told him seriously.
He nodded slightly, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, well."
"What the hell were you thinking?" Newt hissed, gripping my arms and looking into my eyes. The sudden intensity surprised me.
"I wasn't… didn't-"
"Didn't think?" he ground out angrily, shaking his head and sighing, letting go of me with a disappointed look to the ground.
"Newt-"
He shook his head subtly gesturing to the others who had all quieted in order to hear our little lover's spat.
I nodded in agreement.
We'd settle this later.
It was a while before Tommy and that Jorge guy reappeared. Minho had sat down beside a none-too-happy Newt who was seemingly caught between yelling his lungs out at Minho and yelling at me. He did neither, settling for a glare and a disgusted sigh. I had elected to stand in between the two in an attempt to diffuse the tension, but as Newt wasn't too happy with me either, my presence did little.. The others had moved against the wall, backs leant against it, eyes glued to the Cranks. Not a one of them had moved, simply staring us like we were fresh meat and they were starving.
When they did reappear it was Jorge who spoke first. "Alright, everybody listen! Me and the bird face here have come to a resolution."
Bird-face? What make him think that? Tommy didn't- well, I suppose his features were a bit sharp, but… I didn't see it.
Jorge stopped in the middle of the room, turning to address the whole group. It was sort of ridiculous really, like he was just trying too hard. "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." Someone snickered, one of the Cranks. He was a skinny, rodent-like kid with string hair and small eyes. Reminded me of Rat-Man. "Second being the grand gentleman and saint that I am, I've decided not to kill the punk who attacked me."
Saint? Somehow I thought not.
A few disappointed groans broke out from among the Cranks. I wonder how far along some of these guys were…
Jorge pointed to Minho, who unsurprisingly, smiled, waving at the crowd. I scoffed, rolling my eyes at the show.
"Pretty happy, are you?" Jorge grunted. "That's good to know. Means you'll take the news well."
"What news?" Minho and I asked in unison, glancing at each other with narrowed eye before looking back to the Crank.
He spoke matter-of-factly. "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 stared blankly back at Minho… it was sort of unnerving, really. "You punched me with both of your fists. So we're gonna cut a finger off of each hand."
Jorge's little crank friends began to hoot and holler, cheering.
"What?" I basically screeched. Minho stood, anger radiating off of him. He would've charged the guy if some girl, a teenager like us, with long (surprisingly clean) hair and light brown eyes, narrowed dangerously hadn't held a knife to his throat, just under his chin.
I don't really know why I did what I did. All I knew was I was sick of people threatening to kill my friends, and there was no way I was letting this chick slit Minho's throat. So… I tackled her. I threw my body at hers, reaching out to grab the knife.
The girl let out a shriek, dropping the knife in her shock. I landed on top of her, though she immediately threw me off, attempting to scramble to her feet. I rolled over on top of her, straddling her waist and pinning her to the ground. I pulled and arm back and punched her across the face, blood covering my knuckles as I pulled back to do it again.
Newt and Minho were suddenly pulling me off the girl, Newt whispering angrily in my ear to stop fighting. I shook my arms free of them and glared down at the girl.
She had a pretty good glare herself. She got to her feet quickly, wiping the blood from her face even as more poured from her nose. She brushed back locks of long brown hair as she eyed me.
"You two done?" Jorge glared.
The girl turned her attention to him, nodding, before returning my glare.
"Here's the plan," Jorge said, huffing as he returned to his speech. "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 down to the watch on his right wrist. "Make that noon on the dot. We'll bring lunch for the rest of you."
"Why just you and Brenda?" Someone asked. I didn't realize who it was until he spoke again then I realized that the man who spoke was older than most of the others. Probably the oldest there. "What If they jump you? There's twelve of them to two of you."
Jorge squinted, an almost scoffing sort of look. "Thanks for the math lesson, Barkley. Next time I forgot how many toes I have, I'll be sure and spend some counting time with you. For now, shut your flappin' lips and lead everybody to the Tower. If these punks try anything, Brenda'll beat the girlie-girl to a pulp while I beat the living hell out of the rest of 'em. They can barely stand they're so weak."
Did he just refer to me as 'girlie-girl'?
Barkley was old but tough looking, with big biceps with veined muscles sticking out of the sleeves of his shirt. A nasty dagger was clutched in his right hand and rather large hammer was in the other. "Fine," he said after a mini stare down between him and Jorge. "But if they do jump ya and slit your throat, we'll get along fine without ya."
"Thanks for the kind words, hermano. Now get, or we'll have double the fun on the Tower."
Barkley laughed before starting off down the hallway Thomas and Jorge had used earlier. He waved back to the others in a 'follow me' gesture and before long every last Crank was shuffling after him. Well, except Jorge and the girl I'd tackled earlier.
She was still glaring daggers into my eyes. I was still glaring right back at her.
"Nice, knife," Minho commented, apparently having found and picked up her knife from earlier.
She snatched it back, sparing him a short glance before looking back at me. "Gotta name?"
"MaC," I stated shortly. "I take it your Brenda."
She nodded shortly.
"Pleasure, and sorry about your nose, but if Jorge over there calls me girlie-girl again I might just tackle him instead."
She expelled a short sort of amused breath. Her nose had stopped bleeding now, but there was still the tinged redness of the skin where the blood had been before she'd wiped it away. "You're crazy if you'd think I'd just let that happened."
"None of us are crazy yet," Jorge cut in, walking to stand near 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 starving zombies."
Minho obviously wasn't on board. "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, though his eyes seemed off, like he wanted to tell us something. "Let's go eat. I don't care what happened to your beautiful hands after that."
Alright, well, let's see where this leads.
"Whatever," Minho said, squinting slightly at Thomas. "Let's go."
It was then that Brenda stepped in front of Thomas, her face only a few inches from his as she watched him with dark eyes. His eyes widened as he looked at her. He looked positively surprised, not to mention uncomfortable. "You the leader?" She asked him.
He shook his head, regaining his sense of cool. "No –it's the guy you just nipped with your knife."
Brenda looked to Minho and the back to Tommy, grinning. "Well, 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," Thomas said awkwardly, his face flushing slightly. "I, uh, would've picked you, too, instead of Jorge over there."
And then the girl leaned forward and kissed Thomas of the cheek. "You're sweet. I really hope we don't end up killing you, at least."
I muffled my snickering with my hands.
"Alright." Jorge was already motioning everyone towards the broken door that led outside the building. "Enough of this lovefest, Brenda, we have a lot to talk about once we reach the stash. Come on, let's go."
Looking back to the girl I noticed she hadn't taken her eyes off an extremely surprised looking Tommy.
"I like you," she said finally. Watching as he stared at her, unspeaking. She smiled, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth. Then she turned away from him, walking toward the doors as she slipped her knife into the pocket of her pants. "Let's go!"
Still snickering I followed after, clapping Tommy's shoulder with a smirk. "I ain't kissing ya, loverboy."
He looked at me, the surprise washing off his face, replaced with amusement. He shook his head slightly, a small upturn to his lips. "Come on."
"Whatever you say, Tommy-boy."