Him || The Scorch Trials

Sixteen

The man was a Crank, and apparently he was the leader of them. Out of all the Cranks Mara knew she would meet, she hadn't expected the first one to be the leader.

She wasn't sure what to do. Was he dangerous? He was intimidating, but he didn't seem to be too insane. Still, there was an eerie feeling being emitted by him, giving Mara a bad gut feeling. So she did what the rest of the Gladers did; absolutely nothing.

"You people forget to talk?" Jorge asked, an intense smile stitched across his dried up lips. "Or you just scared of Cranks? Scared we'll put you to the ground and eat your eyeballs out? Mmm, tasty. I love a good eyeball when the grub's runnin' short. Tastes like undercooked eggs."

Mara kept her eyes on the strange man, not wanting to show any weakness to the Crank. He freaked her out, and she didn't want to see what level of insanity he could reach.

Minho's voice rippled passed her in answer to the man. "You admit you're a Crank? That you're freaking crazy?"

"He said he likes the taste of eyeballs." Frypan pointed out. "I think that qualifies as crazy."

A sickening laugh burst from Jorge's lips, sending a shiver down Mara's spine. "Come, come, my new friends. I'd only eat your eyes if you were already dead. Course, I might help you get that way if I needed to. Understand what I'm saying?" The look of creepy friendliness had been completely replaced with a stern look, warning them.

For a moment everyone fell silent, and in that one moment Mara knew he had all the control, despite being the most insane one there.

"How many of you are there?" Newt asked, breaking the quiet atmosphere.

Jorge's attention threw itself onto Newt, another sinister grin spreading itself along his face a second after. "How many? How many Cranks? We're all Cranks around here, hermano."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Newt replied flatly. The sound of movement echoing behind Mara, and before she knew it the boy was standing at her side.

Jorge took a moment to watch him stand before walking around himself, stepping over Gladers as he paced the room. "Lot of things you people need to understand about how things work in this city. About the Cranks and WICKED, about the government, about why they left us here to rot in our disease, kill each other, go completely and utterly insane. About how there's different levels of the Flare. About how it's too late for you- the ill is gonna catch ya if you don't already have it."

That last sentence stuck with Mara; the ill is gonna catch ya if you don't already have it. Newt was the first person to pop into her mind, reminding her of his and her incurable fate. Mara already had it, but Newt didn't... yet.

She watched as the man walked around the room, closing the distance between herself and him. He came to a stop right in front of Mara and Newt, Minho at his feet. His eyes locked onto hers with a freakish gleam beyond normality, almost as if he could see right through her.

"But that's not the way it's gonna work, comprende? Those who are at a disadvantage are those who speak first. I want to know everything about you. Where you came from, why you're here, what in God's name your purpose could be. Now."

Mara opened her mouth to speak, the man opposite her waiting for the words to spill out, but another voice broke through to him first.

"We're the ones at a disadvantage?" Minho let out a low, dangerous chuckle, mocking Jorge with a simple swivel of his head. He rose to his feet, taking his time so he didn't give away his injury . "Unless that lightning storm fried my retinas, I'd say there are twelve of us and one of you. Maybe you should start talking."