𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄, thomas ²

𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏, the right arm

LOST CAUSE.
[ chapter nineteen ]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

EVELYN STANDS BETWEEN MINHO AND THOMAS, her arms crossed over her chest while she burns holes into Jorge's back while he interrogates a man. His face is bruised, eyes are swollen and his lip is cut; reminding Evelyn slightly of herself, but she doesn't pity him at all, he clearly did something to deserve it.

"Where's the right arm, Marcus?" Jorge spits.

Thomas steps forward slightly, his eyebrows furrowed, "Wait. This is Marcus?"

Marcus laughs, his chest rumbling against the ropes tying his body to the chair, "The kid catches on quick. Are you the brains of the operation?"

Evelyn rolls her jaw and takes several steps forward, grabbing Marcus' short hair and pulling his head back so his eyes meet hers, "We know you know where they are." She snarls, "So tell us," She glances at Jorge, who nods, "And we'll make you a deal."

"You can come with us," Jorge tells him.

"I burned that bridge a long time ago," He shakes his head, "Besides, I made my own deal. You're the one who taught me never miss an opportunity."

Newt's head tilts, "What's he talking about?"

"I'm talking about supply and demand." He groans slightly, "WICKED wants all the Immunes they can get. I help provide that for them. So I lure the kids in, they get drunk and they have a good time. And then, later, WICKED comes in, they separate the wheat from the chaff."

"A fun time?" Evelyn's jaw clenches, before lifting her leg up and kicking him directly in the chest, sending him and the chair flying backwards to the ground. She walks over, flicking the knife out of her waist band before kneeling down and holding it against his throat.

"Talk," She spits, "Tell us where the Right Arm is."

"Okay, okay!" He yelps, "Jesus. But I'm not making any promises. These guys like to move around."

Rolling her jaw, Evelyn grabs the rope over his chest and pulls the chair back up so the rest of the group can see him once again. Sliding her knife back into her wrists hand, she returns to her spot between a slightly shocked Thomas and a smirking Minho.

Marcus groans, throwing his head back while trying to regain his breath, "They have an outpost in the mountains. But it's a long way away. You got half of WICKED on your ass. You're never gonna make it."

"Not on foot," Jorge smirks, bending down and slapping toe hand against Marcus' shoulders, "Where's Bertha?"

Marcus swallows, "Not— not Bertha."