Run With Me ➵ Newt [2]

ELEVEN | interrogating marcus

"Where's The Right Arm hidin', huh?" Jorge said, practically yelling now. "Tell me!"

Marcus chuckled - it almost seemed as if he had lost his mind. "And why should I tell you?"

Jorge shook him, his face full of anger and frustration. That was when Thomas woke up. His eyes flew open and Teresa and I turned towards him.

"Hi," Teresa smiled down at him. He stared at up at her. "We have to stop meeting like this."

Minho came over and raised his eyebrows at Thomas. "Welcome back, ya ugly shank," he greeted, his trademark smirk tugging at his lips.

Thomas rolled his eyes at him and got up. He eyed his surroundings, taking in the scene just as Jorge swung his fist into Marcus' face again. A giant bruise the size of a rock formed on the latter's jaw.

"I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to leave my house," Marcus drawled tipsily.

Thomas stood by Newt's side as he watched the scene before him, looking dumbfounded. "Looks like you've been havin' fun," Newt said dryly, glancing up at him.

"Listen," Jorge said, waving his arms at Marcus. "I don't enjoy hurting you. Okay? Where is The Right Arm, Marcus?"

"Wait, this is Marcus?" Thomas said incredulously.

Marcus snorted with laughter. "This kid catches on quick," he said sarcastically. "Are you the brains of the operatio-eughh."

He winced as Jorge pulled his head back so that he had no choice but to look up at him.

"I know you know where they're hiding," Jorge said. "So you tell me-" he released his grip on Marcus- "and I'll make you a deal."

Marcus chuckled again. He sounded quite insane. "I burned that bridge a long time ago. Besides... I made my own deal. You're the one who taught me - never miss an opportunity!"

"What's he talkin' about?" Newt asked.

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

He giggled again. And it turned into a chuckle, and finally a laugh.

"I changed my mind, hermano," Jorge's voice was dangerously low. "I do enjoy hurting you."

And he lashed out a leg and kicked Marcus square in the chest. The force sent the man tumbling back and the chair fell to the floor with a loud thump. Jorge pulled out his gun, loaded it, and knelt beside Marcus on the floor, digging the barrel of the weapon into his neck.

"Talk!" He demanded.

"Okay, okay, jesus!" Marcus choked. "But I'm not makin' any promises. These guys like to move around."