Subject A250: The Fallen

Thirty: Get Riot Out of There

A/N: Okay, BlueTendu just motivated me to update. After so long. No promises that the next one will be quick, but my year is finally easing off a little, so there is a chance that it could be soon!

Trace was the first to open the door. Minho stood on the other side, gripping the Launcher tightly in both hands, holding it at his waist, ready to raise it at a moment's notice. She stared at him, sending the weapon a sideways glance.

"You planning on firing that?"

Minho relaxed his grip, dropping the Launcher to his side. "I wasn't sure what I'd find in here," he admitted.

"Yeah?" Newt piped up from behind Trace. "Well, you're in luck. I haven't gone full crank just yet. Didn't bite Ace once. Not even a nibble."

Minho stood in silence, stunned, trying to work out if Newt was joking or not.

Newt pushed straight past him, making his way back to the others. "But we better get a move on," he said. "Don't s'pose we have much time to lose."

At that, Minho shocked himself out of his stupor. He stared at Trace, eyes wide and mouth agape. "He agreed? He's coming with us?"

Trace watched as Newt greeted the others, smiling a little as their shoulders dropped and sighs of relief escaped their lips. "Yeah," she breathed. "Yeah, he agreed. He's coming with us." Even as the words left her lips she struggled to believe them. Was this actually happening? For once, things seemed to be going the way she wanted them to.

"What did you say?"

Trace looked at Minho again. "I told him the truth," she stated simply. Then she followed after Newt, not daring to say any more -- not wanting to even think about what she'd just agreed to.

It won't come to that, she told herself. It'll work this time.

But she didn't know that.

The group was all smiles when she arrived, though she could see the fear behind their eyes. Would this all be worth it? Were they just prolonging the inevitable? Or setting themselves up for an even more devastating end?

Trace shook her head to clear it. She needed to think about that task at hand. Anything that followed, she would deal with as it came. Right now, she just needed to get this plan in action, before Newt went --as he'd termed it-- 'full crank'.

"Let's get out of here," Jorge said. As he spoke, his eyes darted around the room, as if sensing that something was about to happen. Trace didn't doubt his instinct for a second; she would have sprinted out of the room if that was an appropriate thing to do.

Newt was talking to Thomas as they headed to the exit, so Brenda took the opportunity to approach Trace.

"Looks like that went smoother than expected," she admitted.

Trace couldn't look her in the eye. "Yeah," she said, but her tone was unconvincing.

"What is it?" Brenda stared at her now. Her warm smile had vanished, now replaced with that all-too-familiar concern. They were almost at the door they'd first come through.

Trace lowered her voice. "I told him," she muttered.

"What?" Brenda turned to her, not registering what Trace had said.

"I told him. Everything."

"Are you serious?"

They opened the bowling alley doors to a crowd of Cranks who seemed to be waiting for their arrival. Apparently news spread quickly and they all wanted to feast eyes on the new arrivals. Or maybe they just wanted to feast on the new arrivals. Either way, a feast was imminent.