little immune {the scorch trials} (request)

˜"*°• 20 •°*"˜

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

"Oh, shut up, Minho."

Jorge's cronies had tied the Gladers up so that they were hanging upside down metres away from the floor, ankles bound with rope. Y/n was still nowhere to be seen. Which was a good thing, Thomas reminded himself, since it probably meant she hadn't been captured.

 "Maybe I can reach the rope," Thomas tried, though it didn't seem very likely that he would be able to do so. Ultimately, after several failed attempts, he gave up.

The sound of Jorge's mocking voice rang throughout the room. "Enjoying the view?" Thomas could practically hear his devious grin.

"What the hell do you want?"

"That is the question," Jorge replied, coming to a stop directly in front of Thomas. "My people want to sell you back to WICKED. Life has taught them to think small. I'm not like that. And something tells me that you're not either."

"Is the blood rushing to my head," Minho piped up, "or is this shank not making any sense?"

Jorge pointedly ignored him. "Tell me," he addressed Thomas, "what you know about the Right Arm."

"I thought you said they were ghosts," Newt remarked.

Unlike with Minho, Jorge turned to face Newt to speak to him. "I happen to believe in ghosts. Especially when I hear them chattering on the airwaves." He moved over to the lever that would determine the Gladers' fate and laid a hand on it. If he pulled it, they could either fall to their deaths or be released. But freedom always came with a price. "You tell me what you know, and maybe we can make a deal."

Thomas shrugged. "W-we don't know much."

That was the wrong thing to say. A chorus of surprised yelps and groans of pain sounded as Jorge cranked the lever so that the kids were jerked down a foot before being immobilized in the air once again.

"Okay!" Thomas yelled, putting a hand out to stop him from dropping them any farther.  "Okay, alright. They're hiding in the mountains. And they attacked WICKED; got out a bunch of kids. That's it. That's all we know."

Jorge stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak, but then—

"Yo, Jorge."

The voice had come from behind him, belonging to one of Jorge's men who had just stepped into view. "What's going on?" he asked, eyeing his boss suspiciously as he surveyed the scene.

Jorge managed a nonchalant expression. "Me and my new friends were just getting acquainted. We're done now."

"Hey, wait," Thomas called. "You're not going to help us?"

Jorge ignored the glare he received from his associate. "Don't worry, hermano. We'll get you back to where you belong. Hang tight."

With that, he exited the room, leaving the Gladers to fend for themselves once more.

***

Darkness. It was all darkness. But Y/n didn't move from her little corner under the staircase for she could not risk getting caught.

Her thoughts were conflicted. If she stayed, she would be safe for a while. But she couldn't stand the thought of Tommy and the others in danger somewhere, especially if there was a chance she could do something to help. 

So she got up, scanned the corridor for people, and upon finding that it was clear, ran off in search of her friends. The first way she went was upstairs, because she just had a good feeling about it. But there were so many stairs and she was just so tired ...

She stopped for a beat, panting and clutching the railing tightly. Deep breath in. Breathe out. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. She had to keep going. For Tommy.

There were so many rooms, and Y/n searched all the ones she could without being seen. On the very top floor, her heart stuttered in her chest with relief and excitement as she heard the sound of groaning and arguing in voices that she new all too well. She ran for the source of the noise, and that splendid feeling twisted into a sickening fear as soon as she laid eyes on the sight before her. All of the Gladers, everyone she cared about, hanging upside down like rag dolls. She had to get them free.

"Y/n!" Thomas called when he saw her. Despite the situation, his face broke into a grin. "You came back!"

"Tommy!" She ran toward him and the others. "How can I free you?"

He pointed. "Pull that lever there. But just a little bit. Too much and we'll fall all the way down." Y/n did as he said, and helped her friends clamber onto solid ground and untie the ropes from their feet.

When they were all out, Thomas pulled Y/n into a tight hug. Once he withdrew, he grasped Y/n's shoulder and looked her up and down with concern. "Hey, are you okay? You look really pale."

Y/n nodded, though she knew she wasn't. "F-fine. We need to go."

"Yeah," Thomas said. "Yeah, you're right. Alright, let's—"

Suddenly, a loud whirring sound coming from outside interrupted his speech. It sounded scarily like a big vehicle in the air, which could only be one thing. A Berg. WICKED had found them.

"Good evening," boomed a loud voice over speakers, one that sent chills down every kid's spine. Janson. "This is the World In Catastrophe: Killzone Experiment Department. We have your compound completely surrounded."