~|Charge|~ Thomas

Chapter 37: Hostage

Linnea fluttered open her eyes, them being closed for who knows how long. The last thing she could remember was Gally's venomous look in his eye, before his fist connected with her face, and then there was darkness. The memory of what had happened what seemed to be the night before lingered in her brain. Specifically Thomas stinging himself with the Griever's stinger.

Thomas. She needed Thomas. She needed to now if he was okay. The sixteen-year-old started screaming his name, but was stopped when she realized what exactly was happening there. Above her, Linnea's hands were bound by a rope pulling tight at her wrists, to the metal circle that connected the hammock she was lying in, to the rope that was holding it up against the wooden structure.

She was basically being held hostage in her own place. And she knew exactly by whom. Gally. She grunted as the stubborn girl tugged on the ropes, trying to get out of their hold, but they were on so tightly, that it was almost impossible to get out of them. They dug through her skin as if they were sinking into her. The pain was grueling. It was like she was being pampered. To death.

But the only thought on her mind was Thomas. Thomas. Not the fact that almost everything that they had built, that she had spent years working towards, was all finally going to hell. Not the fact that more than half of the gladers were dead. Not the fact that she was being held hostage by Gally. It was only the fact that she didn't know if Thomas was okay. She didn't know if he was alive. It scared her so much, more than anything in the world had.

Moving Linnea's gaze from her hands, her own wrists now bleeding rapidly, was the sound of the door creaking, opening up and showing her captor. Gally. There was a wicked gleam that crossed Gally's blue eyes. Linnea's body tenses with uncertainty as she sees her own special knife grasped in his hand, but there's no denying the echo of gladers somewhere nearby, surely being able to see or hear whatever was going to happen.

"Well, well, well," Gally started. "Looks like now Linnea's the one in trouble. Why, you ask? Because this is all her fault!"

"Where's Thomas?" Linnea asked, tugging up towards him, her wrists screaming themselves out in pain, blood now emitting out of the wound even more, but she was forced to put that aside. Curiosity warmed her nervous stomach as Gally's eyes went roaming over her body, taking himself forward, in a way that they forced heat to her cheeks. When he didn't answer immediately, she screamed even louder, "Where's Thomas!?"

"He's fine," Gally finally answered, putting his arms up in defense. "You should be worried about yourself, though. Of what might happen to you."

Linnea stiffens expectantly, waiting for the knife to be pressed to her throat. "I'll be fine," she retorted. "Just don't you dare even touch him. Don't you dare hurt him." Gally's  face never falters from its smirk. "Where is he?"

"He's in the pit," Gally answered. "With the other girl." Linnea's face turned into an angry expression when she heard that. She absolutely despised the girl, and did not want her alone with Thomas. At all. "You don't like her either?" Gally asked, much less of a question, but more of a statement, it being completely true. "I guess we finally found something in common."

"You don't have to do any of this," Linnea told him, tugging once again on her restraints, the pain more tolerable, but she didn't know if it was just the blood loss, or if it actually was getting better. "Any of it, Gally. We can get out of this."

Gally came forward, sharply, and pressed her aggressively against the bottom of the hammock, her body sinking into it. "No, we can't," he said, poison seeping itself in his voice. "And yes, I am going to do this."

As he backed off of her, letting her body relax a bit, Gally squinted at Linnea, and his lips curve to a grin. Gally beamed as he pulled away from Linnea with dramatic flair. As her breaths quickened a bit, both with fear and anxiety, Gally stopped at the exit, and said, not turning around, adding more dramatic flair, "You deserve this, Linnea. All three of you." Linnea gulped, almost knowing the exact words that were to come next, and sure enough, she was right. "This is for what you did to us."