"SHE'S IMMUNE! SHE'S Immune!" Newt yelled, "Let her go!"
"She hurt four security guards!" The man called Ryder roared, "Clearly she's dangerous!"
"Do you not see that bloody thing? She's crippled! Her body can't handle that bloody shock! She's just a useless klunk now, won't do any good for you all. Better let the owner of this Berg bury her dead body, am I right?"
"Well I better make sure Mr. Gallaraga return to a real dead body," he muttered, loading his gun.
"NO!" Newt cried out, "JUST TAKE ME! I'M A CRANK! I WANT TO LEAVE, I WANT TO LEAVE! I HATE HER! I BLOODY HATE HER!"
He squealed maniacally and sunk to the ground, blocking his ears with his hands, "I HATE SEEING THAT FACE. JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE. I DON'T WANT TO BE LOCKED IN HERE ANYMORE. THEY FORCED ME TO. SHE FORCED ME TO. SHE HAD ME STAY QUIET ALL THE TIME. GET ME OUT GEMME OUT GEMME OUT GEMME OUT—"
"Damn it!" Officer Ryder yelled, holstering his gun back. He was still shaken by the small Launcher's grenade. "Let's go! I'll have the sick guy, you two take care of Roy. Grab the weapons, too."
Frankie tried calling out to Newt, but only a gurgling groan came out. Her muscles ached, her stomach nauseated, but her heart cried out more than all the physical pain an electric shock could ever bring. She tried moving her hand, reaching out to him, but he was being taken away.
Newt saw her tears, puddling at the corner of her eye and spilling down her temple to the floor. That was the last thing he could see before the Berg's door was closed, and he knew that it would haunt him to his very last day.
〰️
MINHO AND HIS companions went to a coffee shop nearby, recommended by Hans and his wife.
This was another new experience for him —customers lined up at the counter, getting coffee and pastries, then heading for a table or back out the door. He watched as a nervous older woman kept lifting her surgical mask to sip her hot drink. One of those red-shirted guards stood at the door, randomly testing people for the Flare with his handheld device every couple of minutes or so.
Thomas leaned over and whispered, "What's with that shank over there?"
He pointed to a guy sitting at a nearby bench in front of a large window. The man was hunching over, elbows on knees, hands loosely clasped, staring at a spot on the other side of the shop with a blank expression. Steam was no longer rising from the cup, so he had been doing his thing for a while now.
"He's probably on the Bliss," Brenda whispered back.
"Isn't he gonna get arrested if he get caught?"
Brenda nodded to Reggie's questions.
Jorge returned with sandwiches and steaming cups of coffee.
Minho gobbled his share of food and drink down quickly —this sandwich was far better than the one they had at the mall, and ever since WICKED graced them with the taste of caffein, he had fallen in love.
Soon they finished up and were getting ready to leave, but Brenda remained in her seat. "Would you guys mind waiting outside for a few minutes?"
Her look made it obvious that she meant Jorge, Reggie, and Minho.
"Excuse me?" Minho responded, his tone exasperated. "More secrets?"
"No! Nothing like that, I promise. I just need a moment. I want to tell Thomas something."
Thomas sat back down, "Just go. You know I won't keep anything from you. And she knows it, too."
"Let them kiss and do lovey-dovey stuffs, Minho," Reggie smiled suggestively. He went away first, followed by Jorge, who basically never objected anything that Brenda suggested.
Minho grumbled, but he decided to walk off with them.
Suddenly, he remembered a promise he had made with Frankie, right before he left the Berg, and he smiled.
"Old man, can I get another sandwich and coffee to go?"
Jorge furrowed his eyebrows, "Still starving, hermano? You were breathing down your food instead of eating them."
"Nah. Frankie told me to get her the best food I find in Denver. She can share with Newt."
Reggie asked, "Aren't we heading back to Gally?"
"It won't take long. You both are not going to join the Right Arm before hauling them in here, are you?"
"Fine." Jorge motioned for him to follow him, and the three of them joined in the waiting line again.
Minho shoved his arms into his pants pocket and watched the constantly moving LED screen, displaying a variety of sandwiches.
Steak, chicken ham, chicken turkey, lettuce, black olives, tomatoes, onions, ranch.
Lettuce, tomatoes, red onions, ranch, chicken turkey, swiss cheese.
Tuna, cheddar, lettuce, tomatoes, red vinaigrette.
"Which one was mine? The one I just ate?"
Jorge pointed to the far right corner, "That one."
"Let's have that."
"Can we get mine, too?" Reggie enquired, "You should try it, Minho. It's heavenly."
"And the... late? Latte?"
"You two act like I have all the money in the world."
Suddenly, a crash sounded behind their backs.
Minho whipped his head around and saw that the man in red shirt who was testing customers randomly had stepped inside the store. He crashed into a table with the Bliss-consuming man underneath him.
The Red Shirt's robotic voice erupted throughout the vicinity, yelling, "We've got an infected! Everyone evacuate the building!"
The place immediately turned into pandemonium. Screams filled the air as everyone fled toward the only exit.
"We need to get out of here." Jorge threw his arm around Minho and Reggie's shoulders and dashed out, forcing the younger boys to follow his steps.
They ran until they were a block away from the sandwich shop and stopped to catch their breaths and look for any sign of Brenda or Thomas.
"There!"
Reggie pointed across the street. Brenda had Thomas' wrist in her grasp and dragged him into a small alley.
Jorge led them to the nearest intersection, where the zebra cross was. They waited until the traffic light turned green and ran across, turned left, then right into the targeted backstreet.
What was waiting there caused everyone to stop dead on their tracks.
Thomas and Brenda, hand in hand, facing a cop machine that hovered a few feet away. A panel had opened on its side, revealing a screen from which Janson's face stared back at him.
Rat Man.
They shuffled back and decided to just peek from behind the brick wall.
At first Minho thought that Rat Man was there, in person, in the cop car. But then he realized that it was just a video feed of his image.
"What happened?" Thomas said, "How'd you find us?"
Janson was as grim-faced as ever. "It took a considerable amount of effort and luck, trust me. Thomas, I'm going to be frank with you. The only reason we haven't come to Denver to retrieve you is because the infection rate is astronomical. This was our safest means of contacting you. I'm urging you to bring yourself in and complete the testing."
Minho thought of the two blue vials in Brenda's bag.
"Why would I come back?"
"We've been using our data to select a Final Candidate, and you're the one. We need you, Thomas. It all rests on your shoulders."
Thomas paused, arranging his words. In the end, he only said, "I'll think about it."
"I trust you will," the Rat Man paused, "There's something I feel obligated to tell you. Mainly because I think it will influence your decision. It's about your friend, Newt. I'm afraid he's in a tremendous amount of trouble."
Minho felt his stomach dropping.
"Well, he seems to be succumbing to it rapidly. The fact that you were already seeing symptoms of anger and loss of concentration before you left means he'll be spiralling into madness very soon. You could very well save him."
"You enjoying this?" Thomas asked, "Because sometimes it seems like you enjoy it a lot."
Janson shook his head, "I'm just doing my job, Thomas. I want this cure more than anyone else."
"Just go," Thomas said.
"I hope you'll come," Janson replied, "You have a chance to do great things. I'm sorry for our differences. But Thomas, you need to hurry. Time is running out."
The screen blacked out and the panel closed, then the cop machine rose into the air and flew away, passed the three eavesdropper and back into the busy street of Denver.
Minho, Reggie, and Jorge ran over.
"You okay?"
"Did you hear everything?"
"Yes."
"There's no way I'd go back," Thomas announced, determined, "But maybe them needing me so much could help us at some point."
"I don't think they know about the— the enzyme Hans told us about."
"We better check on Newt and Frankie. Give him it first, see if it works."
"It's getting late," Brenda said, "And they don't let people in and out of the city at night."
Shuck.
"Can we get out there if we hurry?" Minho asked. Even he was mildly surprised by his desperate tone, "Or can we break out?"
"We can try. Better hope we can find a cab, though. We're on the other side of the city from where we came in."
"Let's try it," Thomas offered and led the way down the street.
Minho tried to keep his worry sealed within his lips and walked in silence.
Newt had to be okay. Because he couldn't imagine a world where Newt wasn't. And even if he could, Frankie had to be okay.
He told himself repeatedly that she was reliable. Dependable. Strong. Not to mention trained.
Minho remembered telling her once that one of the things he loved about her was the fact that she could take care of herself as well as taking care of the others, and he wasn't just saying that to get on her good side. It was true.
Even with one leg down, he knew he could still trust her with his life.
But... Jorge was right. He was a crappy boyfriend.
Wasn't that the point of relationship? Sharing their burdens, even if the facts were they could bear anything on their own?
He had been relying on her independent self too much. He didn't let himself worry about her enough. Now it felt like everything was catching up to him, and he was dying of worry.
Shuck. Crappy boyfriend indeed.
They walked for an hour and didn't see a single car, much less a cab. They ran into only a few scattered people, and cop machines let out their eerie hum as they flew by at random. As the light faded to darkness, he began to feel more and more anxious.
Finally Brenda stopped and faced the rest of them. "We'll have to wait till tomorrow. We're not going to find transportation tonight and we're too far to walk. We need to sleep so we'll be fresh in the morning."
"There's gotta be a way to get out there," he countered.
Jorge squeezed his shoulder, "It's useless, hermano. The airport's at least ten miles from here. And by the looks of this town, we'd get mugged or shot or beaten to death on the way."
Minho hated to admit it, but they were both right.
"Are we close to our motel?" Reggie asked in an uncharacteristically timid voice. Now that he thought about it, the Group B boy had been exceptionally silent throughout their walk.
"Just a few blocks," Jorge pointed to his left, "Let's get some rest first. We'll leave first thing in the morning."