Changes (Newt x OC) (Maze Runner Fanfic)

Drugged.

After a long explanation by Jorge, we learned that Marcus is a man who helps bring kids who've escaped from WICKED to the Safe Haven, and he had told Brenda to find him before they had been split up, and that's where she probably thought we were going to be.

"Okay, then where does he live?" Minho asked, bouncing from foot to foot, obviously eager to get going.

"Um," Jorge paused and looked around, and his eyes stopped on the long red banner that was hanging front eh building. "He's in Zone A. Follow me."

We did as Jorge told us, even though we were all slightly confused. The streets weren't insanely crowded, but we got a couple rude looks when we tried to shove our way past people as they took their sweet old time buying something from a little vendor.

My ankle was still annoying me, and was definitely not healed yet, so I held onto Newt for support as we followed Jorge. "You okay?" Newt would ask, every time I grunted in pain when I accidentally put pressure on my ankle.

"I'm fine," I reassured, rolling my eyes at his concern. "Don't worry."

It took us about an half an hour of painful walking, we got to Zone A, and the first thing that was considerably different was the type of people we passed by.

The people in Zone C were normal, the type of people you'd expect to see in a post-apocalyptic city. Dirty faces, ruddy clothes, sad faces. In Zone A, the people were sweaty, dirty, but wore colours, layered jewellery, and their clammy, stringy, long hair was piled onto their heads in strange hair-dos.

"What is this place?" I mumbled, feeling completely out of place.

"This, my hermana," Jorge chuckled, scanning our disgusted expressions. "Is Zone A. Where you can buy all the Bliss in the world, where you party 'till you Crank out, or sell yourself to creeps!"

"That's horrible!" I hissed under my breath, as not to draw attention to us.

"This is a horrible time, my dear," Jorge sighed, and kept walking. "And people do whatever they think is rational in horrible times."

Jorge lead us to a town square of types, that smelt horribly of rot, beer, and something else, that I couldn't quite describe. People sat or stood in groups, either talking, drinking, or staring into space and seriously creeping us out. Jorge explained to us that those people were on the Flare slowing drug called Bliss, and that they were probably infected if they were taking it.

We approached the tallest building, where loud, booming dance music emitted, shaking the what seemed like to be unstable foundations. Jorge was greeted by a man with greased back blonde hair, sickly skin, and had heavy eyeliner on.

"Jorge! Welcome!" he laughed, stepping down from the buildings entrance stairs, putting down a bottle of vodka, opening his arms, looking to embrace Jorge, who instead grabbed the man's wrists, turned him around, and began twisting his arms.

"Alright, Marcus," Jorge hissed viciously, and kicked the man, Marcus to his knees, making the crowds of people shout out and make a circle around the two men, watching like it was entertainment. "Where's Brenda?"

"B-Brenda?" the man stuttered, his terrified eyes juxtaposing to his snarky smirk. "Haven't seen he- augh!"

Jorge gave Marcus a hearty kick to the gut and gestured for us to follow him as he dragged the man by the arm into the building. We hesitated at first, but followed when we began to hear punches landing, and Jorge shouting cuss words.

When we ran inside, we saw two men laying with bloody noses on the floor and Jorge scowling at the rest of the trembling people who were in the club. The music had stopped a while ago, and all movement had ceased.