stolen immunes {the death cure} (request)

˜*°• 1 •°*˜

The day was dry and windy, as always in the Scorch. In the six months Thomas and the others has been training and preparing for this mission, they had long-since gotten used to the consistency of the environment.

Thomas wiped his sweat-soaked forehead and adjusted his seatbelt, just as the blare of the train horn sounded nearby.

"It's time." Vince's knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel. "You ready, kid?"

"As I'll ever be," Thomas sighed. Truthfully, he was both determined and terrified. If the plan failed, it was over. Their friends would be lost to WICKED forever. His sister.... 

But, no. It wouldn't fail. It couldn't.

"Alright," Vince said, jamming the key in the ignition. "Let's get this show on the road."

Vince floored the gas as Thomas readied his walkie-talkie. "Brenda, we're coming up behind!" he shouted over the clamouring car and gusting wind. "Keep 'em busy!"

"Hang on!" Vince warned. Thomas didn't need to be told twice. Reaching into the space where the door and window should have been, he clutched onto the roof of the car like a handle as the Right Arm's leader took them barreling towards the enemy train.

As Jorge and Brenda distracted the engineer and conductor, Vince drove the car directly onto the tracks so they were directly behind the train. Thomas knew the next part was going to be insanely difficult, even deadly, but they would manage. For the sakes of those they were rescuing, they would manage.

"This is crazy, Thomas!" Vince clamoured, as though he could read the Glader's mind.

"Oh, I know." Thomas's gaze was fixed on the approaching carriage. In a heartbeat, he tore off his seatbelt and clambered into a crouch on the hood of the car, holding tight to a grapple hook. Insisting that Vince get him closer, Thomas reached desperately toward the train, finally managing to latch the hook onto the back of the carriage. Then, in one swift, frantic movement, he leaped from Vince's car to the train, securing his position by grasping onto the ladder and swinging his legs down to the platform.

Next came Vince's turn to switch vehicles. The jump was slightly more of a challenge for the older man, though Thomas was able to pull him up just as the hook came loose, sending the car spiralling away.

All of a sudden, Vince cursed and pointed up at the sky. "Hey! Berg!"

Thomas glanced up, and sure enough, one of those enormous WICKED ships was hovering just above the train, preparing its weapons. "Brenda," he warned into the walkie-talkie, "you got company!"

There was a rush of static on the other end before Brenda's tinny reply came. "Thomas, you're on your own. Don't die."

"Good luck!" Thomas stashed the walkie-talkie in his pocket and started up the ladder, gesturing for Vince to follow. They began their rapid decent up the length of the train, as a pack of armed WICKED soldiers approached from the other end.

While Vince clambered down to complete his part of the plan—detaching the car filled with Gladers from the rest of the train—Thomas prepared to stand his ground against the guards. He retrieved a pistol, cocking and aiming it towards the oncoming crowd. Over and over he fired, until at last Vince said they were good to go.

"Take cover!" he instructed as the carriages began to separate from one another. Thomas did not need to be told again before swinging himself around like an acrobatic onto the edge of the correct car, clinging to a bar with all his might to keep from slipping off. As the detached end of the train rolled to a steady stop, its WICKED-occupied counterpart continuing to speed down the tracks, Thomas and Vince managed to leap off with ease. After a curt nod from the older man, Thomas whistled out a signal for backup.

Newt's was the first head to pop up from its hiding place, golden-blond hair ruffled from the breeze. Though he was far away, Thomas didn't miss the small smile that flashed across his friend's face. He then couldn't help shooting back one of his own, a rush of optimism flying through his veins. We're going to do this, he thought. We have to do this.

A gesture from Newt got the remaining hiders at his side in a heartbeat, and the group came running to the immobile train, beginning their assigned tasks.

"Y/n?" Thomas was shouting, banging on the metallic outer walls of each car. "Minho? Are you in there?" However, all he received in response was a cacophony of young voices, crying and pleading for help. It was impossible to make out individual ones.

At least, until he thought he heard the sound of a small girl's voice yell, "Tommy?!" It was only once, and it may have been a long-shot, but suddenly he felt certain that this was the carriage they needed to bring home.

Thankfully, Newt had just come to join him. Thomas groped blindly for his arm, tapping the outside of the car in anticipation. "This one," he exclaimed. "This one!" Instantly, Newt got to work on prying it open.

Meanwhile, WICKED had managed to bring their half of the train to a stop, and was releasing another parade of armed guards.

Vince cursed. "It's gonna be close."

Thomas knew he was right. If they wanted to succeed, they were going to have to hurry the hell up.