𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦, minho (tmr)

Chapter Forty One

"This place has really gone through hell."

The outskirts of the city, outside the walls, were busier than any place they had ever come across before. They were forced into pushing their way through the stream of people moving against or around them, their car abandoned far away.

Clothes hung from washing lines drawn across the streets, buildings yearning for another layer of paint as their walls peeled and rotted from dampness, and many people - too many - sat on the ground; homeless.

"We just gotta stay together." Thomas replied to Jorge, determined to get to the stone walls not too far off.

"We are the voice of the voiceless!" Suddenly a voice from behind came booming through the streets. "They hide behind their walls, thinking they can keep the cure for themselves, while they watch the rest of us wither and rot!"

Cheers echoed around them, and Florence stopped her friends in their tracks to turn back in curiosity. Cruising down the road was a car, on which several men sat, looking down at those around. 

The one at the front, with the microphone, was snarling as he spoke to the crowds; bright gleaming face on display. But the others sat with him, clad with guns, wore strange gas-masks over their faces with a red translucent layer hazing their eyes and identities from the view of any onlookers.

"But there are more of us than there are of them. And I say, we rise up and take back what is ours! Let's bring back a victory!"

A rebellion...

The group was forced to move out of the way of the car as it passed, one of the guards keeping their focus firmly on them all for a while after passing. For a suspicious while.

Jorge urged them all forwards, smart enough to realise that the car-led rebellion would take them right to the wall of the inner city. They were led through a burnt and abandoned train station, with the old rusted train lines running right up to the walls guarding the inner city.

Florence felt nausea sweep over her. Seeing the grey walls reminded her so strongly of the Glade and the Maze. And like the walls in the Maze, these walls were a prison for the people living outside the main city. 

They were restricted, powerless, weak. 

"That's our way in." Her brother called to her over the sound of the riots.

The people on the outside of the walls were angry; and rightly so. They were being neglected, taken advantage of, mistreated. Florence couldn't say she was surprised, after all, it's WCKD. 

The crowds were yelling obscenities, chanting together, holding up their signs. All of it seemed to no prevail. Florence couldn't see anyone at the walls, or any response to it all.

"Thomas! This is not what you're looking for. All these people trying to find their way in, you think you're gonna find something they can't?" Jorge challenged, as they began to shove their way through the crowds towards the walls.

The group separated a little, Florence finding herself with her brother and Jorge whilst the others slipped from her sight.

"Came this far. I'm not turning back now." The boy swiftly replied, only moving forwards further.

Florence caught eyes with Jorge, the man giving her a hopeless glance. She shrugged exaggeratedly, before turning and following Thomas through the crowds.

The boy was parting the way with ease, and despite the anger of the protesters directed at the stone walls and the peaceful city behind them, the people moved to let them through. They stopped at the barricades, still a long stretch ahead of them before the stone wall.