Tired of Running

52|| ghost stories

// I hear you at the door;
footsteps on the floor \\

    •
   
    A girl stood in the eerie shadows of the light.
"You guys look like crap."  She smiled.
Harper took an involuntary step towards Minho, holding him tightly. 
Newt stepped forward, "Who are-"
"Come on..."  The girl looked at them, tilting her head towards the doorway she came through.  "There's someone who wants to meet you."  She walked between a narrow path, cranks reaching for her and lunging towards her.  Harper shrieked as they nearly reached her.  The girl smirked, turning back toward the scared gladers, "Unless you want to stay with them..." 

  Harper didn't trust this stranger in the least, but there was no choice but to follow her.  "Single file, or they'll catch you..."
A twisted smirk spread on the girl's face, sending a chill down Harper's spine.  She was crazy too...  Just not as bad as her friends.  Yet.
Harper was pressed tightly between Newt and Minho- Minho leading, Newt behind her, hands on her waist, steadying her- reassuring her.  The screams and growls of the cranks shook deep in Harper's brain as she closed her eyes, trying to drown them out and just walk forward. 

    "I'm Brenda." 
She was shorter than anyone in the group, her clothes were tattered, hair chopped off above the ears.  Brenda stared at the new arrivals expectantly.  She didn't look crazy... 
"Who are you?"  Thomas was closest as he followed her.  He looked around cautiously as he continued forward.  Brenda scoffed,
"I just told you."  Thomas stopped, "I mean-
Are you one of them?"  She raised her eyebrows, "A crank?"  Folding her arms, she laughed, "Yeah, I'll rip you to pieces at any moment."  She rolled her eyes.  "You guys aren't from around here... 
That has Jorge curious.  And me too..."
"So then...  Are you the Right Arm?"
Harper kicked Thomas's ankle, wishing desperately he had stopped talking.
Brenda had stopped in her tracks, a dangerous look in her eyes, "The Right Arm?" 

  She stepped towards them, Thomas scrambling backward into Minho.  Minho caught him, shoving him away.  "We don't know anything.  But we do know there's six of us and only one of you."  Minho had stepped forward, fists tight.  Brenda didn't move as she stared cooly at the boy.  Harper stared between the two, worry building in her; this could turn south in an instant.  Before she could react, a voice caused all of them to get chills.

    "I wouldn't be so confident."
Light filled the room, the gladers squinting, shielding their eyes from the sudden flash of brightness.  No less than eight men stood around them.  And they all held guns.  All the guns were aimed at Minho. 

    Minho took in the group; his eyes slowly studying the fine details.  He met Harper's eyes.  Harper read him instantly.  He was about to do something really, really stupid.  She widened her eyes, shaking her head slightly.
Minho only smirked.  And it happened before she could stop it.  Minho had tackled the nearest guard so quickly, no one reacted at first.  "MINHO!"  Newt was reaching for him as the distinct sound of ten guns cocking cut off his yell.  Everyone froze, hands up, knees bent slightly.  Except Minho.

  Minho was screaming; punching the guard he had tackled.  Yelling filled the air as two others grabbed the boy roughly by the arms and pulled him to his feet.  Minho was still fighting; squirming, kicking, lashing out. 
"Stop!  Minho, just stop!"
Minho ignored Newt's warning as he sent one of the men stumbling backwards onto his back.
"Alright."  The man who had first spoken held a gun to Minho's head.  "NO!"  Harper was moving before she had even thought it over.
She kicked the man, sending the gun skidding across the floor.  "THAT'S ENOUGH!"
Two of the guards grabbed Harper; one by the hair, the other by her arms.  A cry of pain escaped her, setting Minho off again.
"LET HER GO!  I SWEAR IF YOU TOUCH HER I WILL BREAK YOUR SHUCK NECKS!"
Tears filled Harper's eyes as the men pulled on her break roughly.  Minho kicked, sending one of his captors sprawling on the floor.