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"WE'RE NOT LEAVING anyone behind," the leader said, "Make sure of it."

"This kid, what should we do to him?"

"Take him in? I don't know."

Marla pulled her knees closer to her chest and put her hands over her mouth.

From inside the cabinet, she could hear the sound of doors opening and the echoes of hurried footsteps. Her mother and brother's shouts. And a bunch of unfamiliar men's.

"I'm sorry," the boy beside her whispered.

Marla shushed him.

"Gabe should be here any minute—"

"Marvel said be quiet," she whispered back, looking at him.

The only source of light came from the small slit between the cabinet's doors. It was so fast and so vague, but he could see it.

"Are you crying?"

"I'm not," Marla hissed. But she raised her hands to wipe her tears angrily.

"It's okay," the boy grinned, "I'll protect you."

"No, I can protect myself," Marla said inbetween sobs.

Then a shadow cast upon the opening and the door creaked open. Her tears were now fully visible under the roomlight.

A man dressed in green hazmat suit with creepy protective mask snickered; a huge gun securely wrapped around his hand.

"Gotcha."

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NINETY-THREE PERCENT OF the abductees agreed to go

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NINETY-THREE PERCENT OF the abductees agreed to go.

After they let two of them leave —a reluctant Crank Palace guard and a mother of three children; Gally led the rest of the Immunes (including Newt, yes) along the dimly lit hallway, down a few set of stairs, and into a huge court.

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