Ticking Time Bomb [THE SCORCH TRIALS]

CHAPTER THREE

          "No one has caught my tongue, Janson," Ingrid argued, a expression free of joy tattooed onto her face.

"You know, your hands have always been a little more bloody than the rest of us," Janson spoke boldly, chasing a gut-wrenching knot to grow in the pit of Ingrid's stomach. She knew exactly what the aforementioned man meant.

"So?"

"Just mentioning it. If you don't want more, then I suggest you let me know how the new arrivals are doing," Janson was now so close to the brunette girl that she could practically feel the rage radiating off of him. The lights in the room flickered in a way that added to the eerie feeling in the vast area. She let out a deep exhale of breath, swallowing down the rest of her pride. "There's a girl."

        "Who?"

         "Her name is Teresa. I don't know who she is, but she means a lot to one of the boys."

"There it is! I almost though we'd lost you, Miss Ingrid Clearwater," Janson shook his head with laughter, causing the teenager across from him to let a small frown adorn her face. "Now, will be you be a dear and go check on them in their room? Make sure they're asleep?"

        Ingrid stood up immediately, eager to leave from the room that had her blood boiling with anger. She flourished towards the door, about to pull open the handle until she turned around to face Janson one more time. Who would Ingrid Clearwater be not to have the last word?

"Believe me, if I started getting my hands even bloodier, there would be none of you left."

☒☒☒☒☒☒☒☒☒

Ingrid walked down the dark and musty hallways, her hands slightly shaking from the rage Janson had previously planted in her. She felt vengeful, almost, and the girl was clearly not in any mood to be seeing Thomas. But she didn't want to have even more problems concerning Janson, so she simply followed his orders without putting up a fight. She wasn't trying to be obnoxious, she just was. She finally stopped her fast-paced walking to face the heavy metal door that was guarded heavily by bodyguards. The girl let a small smile grace her face as she swiped her I.D Card to grant herself access into the room. When she pushed open the door, she caught sight of Thomas leaning over the sink, his breathing messy as he collected all of his thoughts.

        The boy looked up suddenly at the sound of the door slowly shutting, and he faced Ingrid's eyes with his own worried ones. Water clung to his face, dripping down slowly, not even bothering to wipe it off. Soon enough, he broke his gaze and reached over for the small towel on the shelf. Thomas wiped his face before walking past Ingrid and lying down in his cot.

        "Are you okay?" Ingrid asked softly, fiddling with her thumbs.

         "Why do you care?"

        "I don't, I just feel obligated to ask you," Ingrid snapped in a tone that easily made Thomas back off, the awkward silence now arising into the quiet air.

        "You seem a little on-edge," Thomas finally spoke up, his head swiveling against his pillow to look at Ingrid's own worried eyes. The fight between her and Janson had been replaying in her mind ever since the girl had arrived in the area where Thomas and his friends laid. It definitely wasn't the first time the two had had a fight, but this time felt different. It felt more uncomfortable, more full of destruction and vexation than once before. It made Ingrid feel scared, for herself, and almost for the new arrivals. Janson could try anything with them, and it didn't make Ingrid nervous, but instead made her feel bothered. What was the difference with them, and the others?