tough world ✔️ | death cure minho

09

Wasn't she in love with WICKED? Up until the last moment they shared together, he was convinced that she was a secret spy sent by WICKED to poison their minds from the inside.

"Explain," he demanded as Newt grabbed the man's hand and pulled him to his feet. "And be quick about it."

Brenda huffed, "Would you stop? We're all on the same side."

"Just get on with it," Newt said, "Talk so we buggin' know what to do."

"Look," Jorge sighed, "I spend most of my time in this hangar, okay? I started hearing all kinds of shouts and warnings over the com, then the lights went out and I ran to find my gun. Next thing I know, Teresa and a bunch of your hooligan friends come running in here like the world's about to end, hauling old Tony along to fly a Berg.

"I dropped my lousy pistol when seven or eight Launchers were aimed at my chest, then I begged them to wait, explain things to me. But some chick with blonde hair whacked me in the forehead with the butt of her gun. I passed out, woke up to see your ugly faces staring down at me and a Berg gone. That's all I know."

Minho exchanged long glances with Thomas and Newt, trying to process the news.

He remembered Frankie saying that she would see him later, and yet she left him behind?

At least he went back and looked for her, along with the rest of the group. But she— they just left him here for WICKED to do whatever they wanted to do with him?

"They left us behind," Thomas breathed out in disbelief, "At least we went back and looked for them. They left us here for WICKED to do whatever they want with us."

The shank took the words right out of his mind.

"Maybe they did search for you," Brenda offered, "And couldn't find you. Or maybe the firefight got too nasty and they had to leave."

Minho scoffed at that, "All the guards are freaking tied up in that room back there! They had plenty of time to come look for us. No way. They left us."

"On purpose," Newt said in a low voice.

"Well, I don't know anything about this," Brenda said, shaking her head, "But why is it so hard to believe that the other subjects would have the same idea we did? To escape? They just did a better job of it."

Minho crossed his arms, glaring at her as best as he could, "Use the word subjects again and I'll smack you, girl or no girl."

"You just try it," Jorge warned, "Smack her and it'll be the last thing you do in this life."

Suddenly, the double doors were pushed open with a bang and a familiar voice shouted, "STICKS! I think they left already!"

Instinctively, Minho lifted his Launcher and pointed it at the two intruders.

"Ooh, can I try flying that thing?"

It took him a few seconds to take in their identities and tranquil his disbelief. He was still aiming at them when Jorge walked forward, announcing their presence by exclaiming ecstatically.

"Muchachos! Real glad to see you two!"

It was Frankie, hugging her medical stuff on Reggie's back. They looked like they had been running for quite a while.

The Group B boy gasped dramatically when he saw them, "You! Old man! You work for WICKED? And Brenda?!"

"We have to leave," Frankie said as the two of them jogged over, "We have dozens of guards on our tail."

"How are you here?" Minho asked.

"Long story," Frankie replied with a shrug, "How are you here?"

He smirked, "Long story, slinthead."

"Shuckface."

"Let's get out of this place," Thomas said, breaking through the flirty exchange. He turned to Jorge, "You're really a pilot?"

"He's a pilot?"

"You're a pilot?" Reggie frowned mockingly.

The man grinned, "Damn straight, hermano. One of the best."

An alarm started blaring again, the same whining scream as before. Its noise seemed louder now, echoing off the high walls and ceiling of the hangar.

Brenda gasped and Frankie diverted her eyes towards the doors she had just come through. At least a dozen black-clad guards were pouting through the opening, weapons raised.

And they started firing.