The Scorch Trials Rewrite

Part 8

"Good plan, guys. 'Just hear what the man has to say'. Really working out for us," Minho mocked.

"Careful," I said. "I hear lightning is attracted to assholes." My feet were tied to the ceiling by a long rope, along with everyone else, and we dangled above an open floor. It was yards and yards down past a number of broken floors, and I was on the verge of a panic attack.

"I hope your rope doesn't break. It's a long way down," he joked.

"Oh, shut up, Minho." My hands shook as they hung down below me. I forced my eyes to peer at one thing directly in front of me as I tried my best not to look down. "You know, people have died like this. All the blood rushes to the heart and the organs put more pressure on the lungs. Eventually, you just suffocate. Or worse."

"There's a worse?" Newt asked.

"Well... You could pop a blood vessel or hemorrhage in your brain."

"We should probably find a way down, then."

"I think that's a good idea."

"Maybe I can reach the rope." Thomas crunched up, grunted loudly as he tried to reach it. He reminded me of a fly caught in a spider's web with how he wiggled. He fell back down with a defeated sigh.

"Enjoying the view?" Jorge asked, coming out of the shadows.

"Not at all actually," I snapped.

"The hell do you want?" Thomas asked.

Jorge laughed, but it lacked humor, and he shook his pipe at us. "That is the question. My men want to sell you back to Wicked. Life has taught them to think small. I'm not like that. Something tells me that you're not either."

"Is the blood rushing through my head or is this shank not making any sense?" Minho asked, and I snickered, earning both of us a glare from Jorge.

"Tell me what you know about the Right Arm." Jorge hit his pipe against the palm of his hand.

"I thought you said they were ghosts?" Newt said.

"I happen to believe in ghosts. Especially when I hear them chattering on the air waves." Jorge used his pipe to drag it along Thomas' chest, forcing him to spin slowly. He walked to the lever that controlled our ropes, and I felt like I was going to throw up.

"Okay, hey, wait!" I shouted. "D-don't do this."

He pointed his pipe at me. "You tell me what you know and maybe we can make a deal."

"Okay, okay! Okay, just-just stop, alright! Look, w-we don't know much." Jorge frowned at my answer then suddenly jerked the lever down. I screamed loudly, my eyes pinched shut as I fell to my death.

"Y/N. Y/N! We're not moving anymore. You're fine," Thomas said. My scream died and I realized we'd only dropped in inch or so.

"Oh, god, I'm gunna die up here," I mumbled. "I'm gunna throw up." I swallowed thickly, holding the bile inside.

Thomas yelled at him when he reached for the lever again. "They're hiding in the mountains, alright! They attacked Wicked, got a bunch of kids out. That's it. That's all we know."

Jorge's face dropped like he was scared, then he took a step forward, opening his mouth like he was going to explain. One of his men walked in, looking at us with indifference. "Yo, Jorge. What's going on?"

"Me and my new friends were just getting acquainted. We're done now." He sent a chilling smile my way, and I swallowed again, this time barely able to keep my stomach down. I didn't know how much longer I could handle being upside down before something else came up.