The last thing Jorge expected to find in the Underneath was two unconscious girls.
Him and his group of hermano's were making their way through the 'Past the Gone' crank filled tunnel system, scoping the place out for any lost souls. And apparently that's what they found.
"Stay back." Jorge cautioned, holding his arms out to prevent anyone from coming closer to the mysterious bodies. "We don't exactly know what the hell these two hermanas are." He took a step forward, keeping his arms extended as he knelt down, getting a closer look at the girls that lay at his feet. They didn't appear to be Cranks, which is good in Jorge's opinion, they looked too pure and innocent.
Lowering his right hand, Jorge nudged one of the girl's heads, quickly pulling away as soon as a sticky substance soaked his fingertips. Turning back to the group he demanded, "Get me a flashlight." The device was placed in his hands seconds after the words left his mouth, a beam of light shining down on the bodies.
The substance was blood. The girl that was closest to him had a giant gash in her forehead, red goo gushing from the wound and pooling under her head. Her blonde hair was wet with blood, the golden locks sticking to the sides of her face and the back of her neck. A brown jacket hung loosely on her shoulders, the girl's nimble and delicate fingers gripping the cuff of the jacket. Jorge moved the light down her body, shining it on her lower chest and stomach, watching it slowly rise and fall. The girl was alive, that must mean her friend was too.
The taller girl on the wounded girl's left was indeed breathing, her eyes clenched shut as if a painful dream was occurring in her mind. Her light blonde hair covered the sharp features of her face, preventing anyone from getting a good look at who she might be.
Jorge returned his attention back to the wounded girl, his eyes focusing on her short stature. She seemed so young, so clean, why are her and her friend down in here in a place like this? He spotted black ink etched across the back of her neck, hiding behind the loose ponytail that cushioned her head.
Property of WICKED
Group B, Subject B5
The Guardian
Labelled. These poor girls' were labelled. They were WICKED's property and part of the trials that those smartasses put together. Jorge could only imagine what these poor girls have suffered, their family having been taken away from them, memories washed away, going by a label instead of their real name. Or maybe they did know their real names, if WICKED had even graced them with that. But still, two pristine souls involved in something so awful, horrifying, he couldn't even think about what they went through and how they dealt with it.
Jorge rose to his feet, wiping off the blood from his hand on the legs of his pants. He faced his group of confused Cranks, a plain look on his face.
"We need to get these two back to base." He said, "Now."
xxx
"Who the hell are you?" Were the first words to come out of Lynn's mouth as she looked on at a tall, dark-skinned male, aiming the scalpel she had in hand at him.
She had just woken up in a foreign place, what looked like a mental-patient's hospital room where Sonya was no where to be found. This unidentified man was tending to her, using a dampened cloth to wipe her brow as he smoothed back her hair. Lynn was still in the clothes that she was in that abandoned mine system with, so that meant he didn't have any funny business with her non-responsive body. He had a fatherly stature about him, his sharp facial features and his stern eyes were a slight give away.
Lynn had grabbed the first thing that could be found in her grasp, which just so happened to be the tiniest of scalpels that lay on some three-legged, rusty metal table just inches away from her hand. She had backed herself up into a corner, both of her surprisingly clean hands gripping the handle as she pointed it at him.
"I'm not your enemy hermana, but I'm not your friend. Just someone who was trying to help a poor kid like you out." He said, trying to reach for the scalpel.
Lynn stuck the knife further away from her,amber eyes gleaming with both fear and anger. The tip of the small scalpel just barely touching the center of the man's palm. "I'm not a child, now tell me where I am!"
The tall male let out a frustrated sigh, his jaw clenching. "In a slightly safer place than where you were hermana. Now, just give me the knife and we can have a nice little chat about what happened five days ago."
"Five days!"
"Well, when you lose as much blood as you did..." He trailed off, gesturing with his right hand to her forehead, were a prominent stitching lay hidden under her bangs.
Lynn took a minute to think, debating whether she should listen to this man or not. Did he mean well? Or was he like one of those creepy people from where she was prior to this. She glanced him over, observing his features. His skin was a chocolatey brown, a worn out leather jacket adorned his shoulders, looking almost too small for his stature. And his eyes were so dark brown that they looked black, obsidian like. Just like Minho's...Lynn thought.
The dark blonde beauty lowered her nondeathly weapon, letting it fall to the run down tile floor with a light 'ping'.
"Good," The man retreated his arms to his sides, "Let's start over, my name's Jorge." He stuck his hand out to her, wanting for Lynn to accept his friendly gesture. Lynn slowly raised her hand, gingerly gripping his calloused palm and shaking it lightly. "What's your's?"
"Lynn," The blonde said flatly, eyeing him cautiously. "Now tell me where I am and how I got here." Lynn spoke with a demanding tone, wanting her questions answered.
"As you wish," Jorge sighed. He took a seat in a rickety wooden chair a mere set of inches away, he motioned for Lynn to take her spot back on the bed. "This may take a while hermana, I suggest you sit down."
Lynn folded her arms over her chest, amber eye forming a glaring state as she plopped back down onto the cot, the frame squeaking under her weight as she shifted to find a comfortable position.
"The place you were in hermana, was 'The Underneath'. How you got there, I have no idea. But that's where you were." Jorge began, reclining in his chair. "The Underneath is a treacherous place. It's full of Cranks that are 'past the Gone' so to speak. The ones that have gone past insane. Now luckily for me, I haven't reached that stage yet. I still have my sense of direction about me. So-"
"Wait, you're a Crank?" Lynn interrupted, resting her forearms on her kneecaps as she leaned forwards. "You are like those...deranged people in that abandoned mineshaft?"
Jorge sent her a look of bitterness, his jaw setting as he looked at her with glaring eyes. "Am I like them, yes. Am I deranged? No." He sneered, "Now as I was saying, I just so happened to stumble across you and your little friend when I was searching the Underneath for lost souls lik-"
"Sonya!" Lynn interrupted once more. She sprung up from her place on the cot, discomposure plastered onto her face. Both her hands reached out for the collar of Jorge's jacket, mustering up all the strength she could find, she brought him up from his chair, his face inches away from her own. "Where's Sonya? Where's my friend? What have you done with her!"
Jorge's monstrous hands were on top of Lynn's in a second, prying himself from her grip and shoving her away from him. The sudden force sent Lynn back onto the cot, landing with on her back as she whimpered lightly. Propping her elbows on the wooden frame of the make-do bed, Lynn looked at Jorge through her eyelashes, bowing her head slightly.
"Your friend is safe," Jorge's voice was low and deep, sounding like he was the Grim Reaper telling a someone they had one day to live. "She is in the room next door."
His words gave Lynn a feeling of reassurance, she felt a wave of peace wash over her knowing Sonya was only footsteps away. But what condition was her friend in? Was she safe? Was she injured? What had become of her?
"If you let me continue, you will see your Sonya in a few minutes."
Lynn eagerly nodded her head, wanting to see Sonya as soon as humanly possible. But that meant she would have to listen to Jorge talk for the next couple of moments. Lynn did want to seek the answers to her previous questions.
"So when I found you two unconscious on the ground right under my feet, I decided to be a nice person and help you, which I regret. He muttered that last part, probably acting as if he didn't want Lynn to hear it but made it loud enough to reach Lynn's ears. "As soon as I brought you two back here," he motioned around him, "I had someone whose expertise used to me in the medical field patch your precious little head up. And that was five days ago. So here we are."
"Where is 'here' exactly?"
"No one knows." Jorge responded, "Not one person in this God forsaken town could tell you where we are. But just to give you an idea, we presumably are on the border of Mexico...maybe."
"Can I go see Sonya now?"
"Not just yet."
"Ugh," Lynn's back hit the mattress, her elbows giving out from under her. "What more do you want from me?" She groaned, dragging her palms down her face, resting her fingertips on her cheekbones.
"There was a mention of your name yesterday by some boy," Jorge looked up at the ceiling, thinking as if the sky was going to give him answers. "Newt I believe his name was."
Amber eyes widened as Lynn sat up, a few strands of hair falling into her face. Her brother had been here only yesterday, the only family she had had been, possibly, in the same building that she's in now. "Newt." She whispered.
"You know him?"
"He's my twin brother." Lynn immediately became more engaged in the conversation that before. "What did he say? How did my name come up?"
"Well, I heard him talking to another boy as he was tending to his injuries."
"Who was the other boy?"
"My mind is not as quick or well-remembering as your's hermana."
"Just try and remember!"
"Fine, fine." A moment of silence passed. "Minho, yeah. That's his name. Probably the sassiest and snarkiest hermano I've ever met."
A tiny smile reached Lynn's lips, memories flooding back to her mind as she remember some of the cheerful times in the Glade...like the first kiss that her and Minho shared.
"I take it you know both of'em." Jorge said.
"Yeah, I do." Lynn's light-hearted voice brought Jorge out of his slight hatred towards the young girl. It take him too long to figure out that she was close to this Minho kid. Very close. It was bright as day, even from the mention of his name it made her whole demeanour change.
"They were talking about how you had vanished into thin air, they don't think you're alive hermana."
"When did they leave?"
"Late last night. Their in search for Thomas, him and one of the member's of my group, Brenda, are trapped somewhere in the Underneath. But they'll be safe, Brenda knows her way around."
Lynn nodded once more, gazing off to the side. Were the Glader's falling apart? What had happened after she had left.
"Can I go see Sonya now?" Lynn quivered, her voice just above a whisper. She missed her brother, her significant other, and her friends. All she wanted in the world was to know that they are safe, and right now, who knows what will become of them?
Jorge rose from his chair, gesturing with his hand for her to follow him as he walked towards the door. But Lynn remained where she was, her mind still wandering off to a foreign place. The older man rested a gentle hand on the young blonde's shoulder, bringing her out of her faraway thoughts.
"C'mon hermana," he said, "Your friend has been asking about you."
xxx
When you find something that could have belonged to your possibly dead best friend, you can't help but get shivers down your spine.
Thomas had found a white hoodie in the Underneath. But it wasn't just an article of clothing that probably belonged to a Crank and was left behind as they ran from the shadows. No, it wasn't. Thomas was holding one of Lynn's hoodies in his scarred and wounded hands.
WICKED must've given her a new one, free of all the stitches, patches, and loose strings that decorated the old hoodie. The one that Thomas was holding looked fairly new, except for the fact that the entire hood part of the jacket was colored brown. A dark brown. The color of dry blood for those who didn't catch on that quickly. The sleeves had been ripped off, Brenda had found them laying a few inches away from the large boulder that the hoodie was resting on.
More blood was found in places that Thomas didn't want to see. On some of the rocks that the cave-like room was filled of, a trail of scattered crimson goo led down the path way, two sets of footprints imprinted on the sand. Lynn had someone with her. Could it be a Crank? One of the girls from Group B?
"Thomas, we have to go." Brenda demanded, pulling Thomas out of his ill-fated scenarios that Lynn could have fallen into. The brunette dropped the hoodie, letting it flutter to the ground as he sprinted after Brenda, who was already continuing without him.
What had happened to the young girl that called him Tommy, the one that had the sassy attitude about her and was in love with his best friend. The one whose elder twin missed with all his heart. Where was she?
But one thing rang through Thomas' mind as he jogged alongside Brenda, trying to find an escape the Crank-crawling hell that he was in.
He couldn't tell Newt or Minho that Lynn could possibly be...dead.
xxx
Hey you guys! I have returned to the fanfiction world at last!
I'm sorry for the delay of this chapter. It's just I got a little too excited writing chapters for my other Maze Runner story 'To Love In Secret'. But it feels good to be back.
I would like to thank all of you readers for getting me to 60 followers while I was away. We even exceded 60 followers! So I would like to thank every single one of you for getting Icelyn Newton Group A: The Transfer this far!
Also, a thank you to all those who have review, favorited, and followed. It really does mean the WORLD to me.
Until next time!