Run With Me ➵ Newt [2]

ELEVEN | interrogating marcus

Jorge pulled him back up again. Marcus let loose a sigh of relief.

"They have an outpost in the mountains," he drawled. "And it's a long way away. You're never gonna make it."

He chuckled. Again. For the millionth time. But Jorge didn't seemed to mind - in fact, he actually smiled, much to my surprise.

"Not on foot," he said. He leaned forward and patted Marcus' shoulders. "Where's Bertha?"

Marcus' look of crazed delight quickly turned to horror. He stared at Jorge, whimpering.

"Not Bertha," he croaked.

"If you don't tell me I'll put a bullet through your leg and watch you suffer slowly from the pain," Jorge warned.

Marcus whimpered. "Alright, alright!" He shrieked. "I'll take you to Bertha - just don't shoot me!"

Jorge turned to face us - he had a smile on his face. "Prepare youself for a ride, boys and girls," he boomed.

-

As it turned out, Bertha was an eight-seater truck that looked as if it hadn't been used in years.

Marcus led us to his garage in an empty street, still bound tightly in ropes, and we marveled in its glory. Bertha was old and rusted, with a thick layer of dust hugging its surface. Long, wide horns hung from the car hood, its pointed ends glinting wickedly. Jorge hopped into the driver's seat and started the engine, a deep rumble sending a tremble through the truck.

"Get in, kids!" He said. "Ol' Bertha's gonna take us for a ride!"

"I call shotgun!" Newt said, and he quickly clambered into the front seat next to Jorge before any of us could take it.

"You little shank!" I laughed as I climbed into the truck behind him. "You beat me to it!"

Newt stuck out his tongue at me and I smacked his arm playfully. The others piled into the truck with us; Aris and Felix in the seats next to me and Teresa,Thomas, Brenda and Frypan at the back. It was a tight fit, especially with our backpacks and jackets, but we somehow made it.

"What do we do with this slinthead?" Minho nodded towards Marcus, who was watching us, whimpering.

"Just leave him," Jorge said, waving a hand dismissively, as if Marcus was no more than a mere annoying fly. "Now, come on! The Right Arm ain't gonna wait for us!"

Minho glanced at Marcus, then shrugged and climbed inside, squeezing in next to me. Jorge stepped on the pedal and we shot forward - Newt bumped his head against the dashboard.

"Bloody hell!" He muttered, rubbing his forehead as we burst into laughter. "Shut up, you guys."

Bertha lurched forward again and we shot out of the garage, the engines roaring as the tyres kicked up dust. We left Marcus behind as we drove off into the streets, screaming with delight. We tore through the city, nearly hitting several pedestrians. I felt kind of bad for them, but at the same time, the wind rushing through my face and the excited laughters of my friends killed my worries and fears. We burst out of the ruined city and into the desert, plumes of sand flying into the air. Jorge drove like a madmen for the next few minutes; he only slowed down when we finally found a road that led into the mountain range in the distance.

Newt turned around in his seat and smiled at me - he looked like an excited little puppy.

"How're you doing back there?" He asked.

I smiled. "Never been better."

The excitement finally wore off after a while. Frypan, Aris, Felix, Thomas and Teresa had dozed off, their heads nodding back and forth to the sway and rumble of Bertha. Minho and Newt stared out the windows and observed the harsh environments of the Scorch. Brenda was staring straight ahead, seemingly lost in her thoughts. After a few moments, I felt my eyes drooped and before I knew it, my head slumped against Minho's shoulder and I found myself diving into a dream.

-

The classroom was full of boys around my age. They were playing and chatting with each other, sitting on chairs and stools around tables. A few noticed me as I walked into the room timidly and they started pointing, arms shooting up as fingers glared in my direction.

"Hey, it's a girl!" One of them exclaimed.

"Nick, calm down," the teacher at the front of the class said. She had short red hair and wore rectangular glasses. She turned to me with a strained smile. "Rosalind, would you care to join us?"

Though the lift in her voice told me it was a question, the stern look in her eyes suggested that I had no other choice.

"Y-Yeah," I muttered.

"Ew, she sounds like a pipsqueak!" One of the boys yelled.

"You sound like a pipsqueak!" Another boy called out.

"Boys, enough!" The teacher shouted. "Stop teasing Rosalind and get on with your work!"

I went over to an empty table and stared down at the 'puzzle' that had been set out for me. It was a plastic cube about the size of my palm, and it was separated into nine squares on each side. Each square was was a different colour: red, blue, yellow, green, white, orange. The other boys started to examine the cube before them, holding it up to the light and turning it around to observe it in detail. I did the same, and after a few minutes, a frown appeared on my face.

"Hey, look!" A black-haired boy said, nudging to some of his friends. He pointed at me, snickering. "Look at the little pipsqueak! How much are ya gonna bet she'll fail the puzzle?"

I felt my cheeks heat up, but I managed to keep quiet. I examined the cube again, counting the number of square tiles and the colours, and finally came up with a conclusion. I watched as the boys turned the tiles around, trying to make one entire side full of one solid colour. None of them was able to solve it. 

The teacher walked around, observing their progress. When she finally came round to me, she halted and frowned when she saw that I hadn't moved any of the tiles on my cube.

"Rosalind?" She said. "What are you waiting for?"

The black-haired boy from earlier nudged his friends and they stared at me.

"Yeah, pipsqueak," he called out. "At least we're trying. Why haven't you done anything for yours?"

I ignored him and turned to the teacher. "That's because there are two extra green tiles, which means the blue and orange ones are short of tiles. This puzzle can't be solved."

The black-haired kid snorted with laughter. "Yeah, right!" He said. "Nice excuse to be lazy! What a loser!"

I hung my head; but to my surprise, the teacher clapped. The chatters died down as everyone turned to look at us, confused.

"Well done, Rosalind," she said, beaming with pride. "You are indeed correct. The puzzle cannot be solved. You can leave early for your next class now, if you like."

"What the-?" The black-haired boy muttered.

"Who's the loser now?" I told him, and walked out of the class with a smile before I could see his reaction.

[ END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN ]

I'm writing song lyrics and im SO tempted to publish a story on here with the songs that i wrote but i dont want anyone to steal or plagiarise :( i wanna share with the world but arghhh i know someone will steal it for their own