Just as they entered the building, they all got separated into groups. George, Henry, and Jorge took care of Marcus; tying him up and interrogating him in the centre of the room. William and Minho got Thomas and laid him on a few sheets Newt and Flor had laid at the side for him and Mae, who was being carried between Bea and Rowan. Leen and Chuck checked on Brenda, the only one of the three who had disappeared not to be passed out.
"They don't look too good," said William, crouching down by Mae's side to take some strands of her hair off her eyelids. "Just what was in that darn drink?"
"They'll be fine." Minho patted his back, crouching down next to him as they stared at their sleeping friends, being joined by Teresa, whose eyes wouldn't leave Thomas for a second.
'You're worried about him, aren't you?' William asked in his mind, his eyes staring at Teresa, who remained still, not answering in any way. 'Teresa?'
Minho got up, walking over to the two armchairs that had been put together across from where Marcus was being interrogated. Strangely enough, only one had been occupied. Aris sat on the right armchair, his eyes constantly glancing in William's direction as if worried about something more than just Thomas's or Mae's state.
Not knowing exactly why, William began taking shallow breaths. He didn't feel like he was suffocating, nor like he couldn't breathe; it was just that his lungs demanded way more air than what slow breaths could give. His sight blurred, not letting him see where he was stepping. Only the trace he had formed in the past five minutes allowed him to know that he wouldn't walk straight into a chair or wall.
To reassure part of his mind, William kept checking his holster, making sure he still had the three guns: Winston's, Jorge's, and the woman's. He didn't need the three of them, but, somehow, giving one to someone didn't sit right with him. He wanted, or rather, needed, to have them close to him.
Just in case. He kept repeating like a prayer, not letting him notice that Thomas and Mae had woken up.
"Liam." Newt approached carefully, placing a hand on William's shoulder to stop his pacing. William flinched at the touch, making Newt take the hand off immediately. "You OK?"
William's thoughts cleared, causing him to blink a couple of times to take in what was happening. He brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing it confusedly before muttering, "Yeah, sorry. I guess I'm just tired." He forced himself to chuckle. "How come you're alright? You haven't slept all that much either."
"I'm one lucky shank," said Newt, reaching out delicately to hold William's hand. "Just go sit down for a while, alright? You'll get better."
"OK." William nodded, letting himself be guided back to the centre of the room to the two armchairs.
Newt forced William to sit on the empty one beside Aris's. Not surprisingly, everyone else had left it like that on purpose; to let him sit down. Even Chuck, who stood between Thomas and Mae, didn't seem any bit interested in sitting down.
The shouts and yells from Marcus's interrogation got louder, but William couldn't hear a second of it. Closing his eyes for what felt like a second, he rested his head on Newt's arm, since the boy had sat on the arm of the armchair.
"Dad, why can't I see mum?" He had once asked his father.
It was days after his mother had been locked in the basement, but he didn't know anything about it. He just knew that his mother had started to act weird, and then she was sent to live in the basement, away from him and his brother. Although contrary to him, Aris could leave his room whenever he pleased and stay around the kitchen, even with the door to the basement open.
"Because she's dangerous, darling. Mum has a very bad illness. It infects and changes all those who get near. Some don't get affected, like your brother and I, but you will. I'm just trying to protect you." His father rested a hand on his shoulder, staring into his eyes with a serious expression. "Never ever go see her. She might look like mum, but soon she'll be long gone."
"Is that what the very bad illness does?"
"Yes, darling. You might think you're talking to mum. But she's not there. We're losing her to the illness."
"And what will happen when she's completely lost?"
"Well, I'll cry for a couple of days. But then I'll have to do what's right."
"What's right?"
"Make sure you don't get infected." His father answered, glancing at a shotgun they kept at the side of the room. "Doesn't matter how hurtful. She won't be there. No point in letting the illness take you away, too."
William took in a deep breath, steadily turning back into reality. Jorge's conversation — or intimidation — with Marcus welcomed him back. Apparently, Jorge had invited the man to come with them; an idea nobody liked, but got worse as Marcus giggled and shook his head.
"I burned that bridge a long time ago. Besides, I made my own deal. You're the one who taught me. Never miss an opportunity."
"What's he talking about?" Newt asked, raising his head slightly as he stared at Jorge.
Just when Jorge was about to answer, Marcus intervened. "I'm telling you about supply and demand. WICKED wants all the Immunes they can get. I help provide that for them. So I lure the kids in. They get drunk. They have a good time. And then, later, WICKED comes in, and they separate the wheat from the chaff."
Rowan got up from the sofa, leaving Brenda alone as she walked up to the armchairs. "I say we kill him."
"Can't right now." William tilted his head upwards on Newt's arm to get in a more comfortable position. "But it's not a bad idea."
"You two, stop it," Mae reprimanded them from behind the chair, her eyes shooting glances towards Chuck, who didn't seem faced at what was being discussed right in front of his eyes.
"Hey, you're awake," William said, turning his head around to smile at her. "Good to have you back."
"Glad to be back." She smiled back.
Their attention was drawn back to the scene in front of them as Jorge fell silent. After a couple of minutes of yells and continued slaps, the silence felt strange. Marcus's words had a devastating effect on Group S. They knew of the man's collaboration with WICKED, but they had never done anything about it. Thousands of excuses ran through their minds, but not convinced them enough to feel pardoned.
Jorge glanced from Marcus to Brenda, tensing somewhat. "I changed my mind, hermano. I do enjoy hurting you." He kicked Marcus' stomach, making the chair fall to the floor, taking him with it. Jorge stepped forward, crouching down slightly to point his gun directly at Marcus' throat. "Talk! Talk!"
Only William and Aris remained in their seats, watching as Marcus gave in to the threats. Jorge pulled him back up, which saddened William. Somewhere in his mind, he felt like Marcus would be better on the floor. He couldn't deny that he wouldn't have minded something more threatening, especially if he could have pointed his gun at Marcus; watching the cocky man cowering in fear had to be a delightful sight that he would sadly miss.
"I'm not making any promises. These guys like to move around." Marcus breathed in and out, trying to calm himself down. "They have an outpost in the mountains. But it's a long way away. You got half WICKED up your ass. You're never gonna make it."
Folding his arms over his chest, George walked towards Frypan, who sat with Henry on a sofa. "You know what? Rowan's suggestion wasn't bad."
"I know, right?" Henry said, watching as Jorge bent over to grip Marcus' jacket with a smirk. "Oh, come on, what now?"
"Not on foot. Where's Bertha?" asked Jorge.
The cocky smile Marcus had worn since the interrogation started finally dropped as his bottom lip quivered. "Not Bertha."
Not needing to add anything else, Jorge stepped back, his smile increasing by the second. He forced Marcus to give the exact locations of the outpost, while Mae and Flor drew it all on a map. It wasn't a long journey, only a couple of hours, and they would get there before sundown.
"Mae," Leen called, her eyes and constant glances around the group telling her everything that words couldn't.
"We need to shut his bloody mouth," said William, getting up from the armchair to stand next to Leen. "He's admitted to having connections with WICKED. What do you think would happen if he ratted us out?"
"Alright, we hurt him. Then, what? He'll go crying to WICKED for sure," reasoned Mae.
To her dismay, William couldn't find reason, or sympathy, at the moment. He grabbed Winston's gun, knowing for a fact there couldn't be more than one or two bullets left, and pointed it at Marcus's head, which made the man shriek. "Dead men tell no tales."
"Wow. No, no, no. Absolutely not." Henry and George walked over, taking the gun away from William.
They let out a sigh as William's hand fell back down, weaponless, but still suspiciously lurking near his holster. They failed to remember the only gun they had seen him take, but Aris didn't. With a hand stretched out, and the other over William's shoulder, he asked calmly for the gun, which he received without — to their surprise — any bickering.
Mae took a step forward, trying to get William's attention back to her, and she was relieved to see that it worked to calm him down. "I say we give him a little punishment. From chaff to chaff… don't get carried away, though."
William's face lit up with a worrisome amusement. "So, what are we talking about? Broken arm? Throw him off somewhere?"
Bea and Rowan forced a chuckle and walked up to the group's brief reunion with Flor. Leen folded her arms over her chest, giving Marcus a reprimanding look. The room's silence made their chatter way louder, and scarier, than any of them would have thought it to be.
"We need to give him a good little scare, William, not cripple him." Henry rested his arm over Rowan's shoulders.
William huffed, disappointed. "Alright."
Mae smiled, her eyes trailing back to Marcus with the most menacing smile anyone had ever seen her make since Brenda had faked threatening William's life. "What about a dislocated arm? Painful, yet easy to mend."
"What's wrong with them?" They heard Thomas whisper to Newt and Minho, who gave him half a shrug. He turned to the group, raising his voice slightly to get their attention. "Hey."
The team turned around to meet Thomas' gaze. With a quick nod, they waited for him to continue talking. Thomas doubted, looking around the room for inspiration. In the end, he scratched his forehead and waved it off.
"Nothing. Just whatever you're going to do, do it quickly, so we can leave." He then glanced at Newt. "We should take Chuck outside, too."
"What? No!" Chuck complained. "I want to see what they do."
Leen sniggered, her eyes softening as they landed on the boy. "That takes all the fun out of it, Thomas. Besides, I think Chuck wants to learn to defend himself, too."
William received strange looks from both Minho and Newt; something between concern and disagreement. He gave them a quick smile and turned to his friends. The odd stares didn't stop either with them, but he was gradually getting used to them, though they nerved him at times.
"Alright. Tommy has spoken, and The Leader and The Glue are giving me very scary looks right now, so let's do this quickly."
"I can't believe you gave Newt the same nickname WICKED did," muttered Leen in plain amusement.
"Oh, didn't I tell you? I can see the bloody future."
"Sure."
William braced himself.
The road was shaky, and the old truck didn't make things any easier. Not even an hour ago — after stealing Bertha — they had come to the obvious realisation that they all didn't fit in the truck. Therefore, Group S searched the area, and, luckily, found a large truck in which the eight of them could fit.
The downside of it was that they had to 'borrow' it from its owner while their friends, Jorge and Brenda, weren't looking, so their sanity wouldn't be doubted twice on the same day.
George, as usual, was the one driving. Flor had won the shotgun against Henry and Rowan and looked back every couple of minutes with a smug grin on her face. In the back seats, Henry, Bea, and Leen sat. Mae, Rowan, and William were at the very end; the wind making their hair get in their eyes every few seconds.
If they wanted to talk to one another, they had to shout. If they wanted to move, they would have to be careful, as George wasn't the most careful of drivers, nor was the road perfectly smooth. One hour had passed when, out of boredom, William began to braid Mae's hair, or what didn't fly out of his reach. Rowan's was more difficult to braid, as it was considerably shorter than Mae's, and it was so thin it was easy to lose it to the wind.
Fortunately, they stopped after an hour and a half. They were in the middle of the mountain, near a tunnel, in front of which many cars had been left to root. William helped Mae and Rowan step down from the truck and then joined the rest. Bertha, the car the others had taken, was just a couple of metres away from them, with no one in its interior.
"Well, I guess we're on foot now," Jorge said as everyone reunited in front of the first abandoned car.
As if an unknown force pulled him, William walked faster, reaching the centre of the group, where Minho, Aris, and Newt were searching around the abandoned cars' boots. While on their search, Newt's head rose, locking eyes with him as a smile played across his face.
"How was the ride here?"
"Asks the one who got shotgun," William whispered, rolling his eyes for dramatic effect. "Bumpy, and extremely loud. I'll trade places with you any time you want."
"No, thanks." Newt chucked, his smile softening as he stood beside William while walking.
Two warning shots appeared out of nowhere, making everyone drop to the ground and split into different groups. Newt pulled William down, protecting his head while trying to find a place to hide. Minho waved at them, getting Newt and William to sprint towards him, pressing their backs against the same car he was using as protection.
"Get down!" Jorge shouted.
"Take cover!" Frypan added.
"Aris . . ." William mumbled to himself, trying to find his brother with his eyes. Wherever he had gone, he couldn't see him.
"Is everyone OK out there?" Thomas asked.
"We're fine!" Teresa yelled from the car to William's right, just a couple metres in front of him, which didn't let him see her, nor anyone else near her.
"Not dead yet!" Henry said, around the same place as her.
With his hand gripping William's hand, Newt turned his head around in all possible directions in search of their attackers. "Anyone knows where those bloody shots came from?"
"Up! Probably the top of the mountain!" Rowan shouted.
William saw as Thomas tried to peek over the car protecting him. However, three other warning shots made him drop to the floor once again. William breathed in and out, waiting for any suggestion or plan to get themselves out of the situation. At that moment, having Newt's hand to hold on to was helpful in keeping his sanity.
"Everybody!" Jorge yelled. "Get set to sprint back to the trucks! And hold your ears!"
Newt pulled him into position, just as Minho got ready as well. Although, two unexpected presences made William freeze. There were two people, girls probably, with their faces covered and guns pointing straight at where Jorge and Thomas had to be.
"Thomas! Jorge! Look out!" William shouted.
"Next to you!" George added.
The girl with brown hair racked her shotgun and pointed at where Thomas and Jorge should be. The one with blond hair trailed slightly behind, but didn't seem any less menacing. Their shotguns were ready and pointed to shoot. No good would come from going against them, much less with unknown shooters at the top of the mountains.
"Drop it." The dark-haired girl ordered, though the scarf tied around her mouth and nose greatly muffled her voice. "Now! I said, drop it!" It took Jorge a second to do so, since the girl took some more to add. "On your feet. Let's go. Let's go! Move!"
Thomas and Jorge got up, making them easily seen from William's point. They kept being pointed at as they walked backwards with their hands in the air. The girls' gaze shifted to William, Minho, and Newt; the blonde's rifle pointed at them.
"You three, over here now!" The dark-haired girl ordered.
"Come on, let's go!" The blonde's voice was surprisingly familiar to William, making him take a second more to give in to the orders. Something the masked girls didn't appreciate at all.
"Don't be stupid! Move."
The girls' attention shifted to the large group, who were just getting up from their previous hiding spot and slowly making their way with their hands in the air. William relaxed as he saw everyone there, uninjured and grouped up. Aris was in the middle, just behind Mae, who tried to keep him and Chuck protected behind her.
The dark-haired girl doubted for a second, her grip on the rifle faltering as she glanced at Aris. "Aris?"
They all turned to look at him, baffled. Aris himself didn't seem to recognise her at first. Only when she pulled down her scarf did his eyes widen and his lips curved into a surprised smile.
"Oh my God, Harriet?" Aris stepped closer to the girl, who, despite having lowered the gun, still had it in a firm grip.
"My God." Harriet breathed out as she went to hug Aris. "What the hell are you doing here?"
The blond girl took her scarf off at the same time, making William's head pound violently. He knew her. That girl was Sonya, the little girl who had begun appearing in his memories not long ago. She was Newt's sister; his best friend.
"Sonya," Aris said, relieved.
Harriet let go of him, letting Sonya hug him and say, "Aris, you're lucky we didn't shoot you, dumbass."
"You alright, stick?" Harriet asked.
Before Aris could say a thing, Minho interrupted. "Um. What's happening?"