Twisted

Chapter 39: Horrible Situations

"Crazy?" I scoffed with a huge grin, "Nah, I prefer mentally hilarious with a side of unchecked trauma."

I got to my feet, drilling wet and freezing and jumped desperately into Gally's arms. He held me tight, I felt him exhaling in relief.

"What ..Gally?" Minho stuttered, his mouth wide open and his eyes huge in disbelief.

"You...you were dead!"

"Nah, didn't stick." He shrugged with a crooked grin

"Clearly."

A wild siren went off, and through every speaker and moving billboard came Janson's voice or face.

"ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL! DROP THE NET. DECLARE MARTIAL LAW. NO ONE LEAVES UNTIL THEY ARE FOUND."

"Well, they are definitely pissed!" Gally shook his head looking down at me, with an amused smile.

"Yeah. Her and Tommy. Always pissing off the wrong people!"

We all turned, Newt stood over the unmoving Guard. I shuddered and took a step backwards. His hands were covered in blood, his face was wild and twisted. His eyes were so dark I didn't see any sign of the gentle kind Newt. In his hands he held a launcher.

"You shanks need to get bloody lost."

His voice was loud and it echoed off the buildings around us. He was more terrifying then any of the WICKED guards. I had no idea what he was capable of at this point.

"Hey come on Man. Let's just talk this through." Minho said, taking a few steps towards his friend.

"Don't come any closer!" His voice was soft, but it was full of menace.

"I'm a buggen' crank. There ain't nothing you can do. The bloody Flair is eatin' my brain! I can feel it! And I'm not gonna be buggen' responsible for hurtin' you or infecting others!"

"Newt! Your not contagious anymore! Remember?"

"SHUT UP CHARLIE! SHUT UP!" He screamed, holding the launcher up at my face.

"Whoa, there Newt! Slim it nice and calm. There's no need to point a shuck Launcher at her face while we talk."

"...I took it from the guard." He glanced down at the mangled guard, "he made me...unhappy."

I was nervous, my anxiety spiking as I watched his finger hovered over the trigger of the weapon.

"I'm ... not well," Newt said. "Honestly, I appreciate you buggin' shanks tryin'. I mean it. But this is where it bloody ends. This is when you turn around and walk away. You understand me?"

"No, Newt, I don't understand," Minho said, the frustration in his voice escalating. "We risked our necks to get stuff snuggled out of WICKED, Charlie was saying there's a way to help? Not a cure, but a way to help... and you're our friend and we're taking you home. You wanna whine and cry while you go crazy, and if I gotta hold you down while we give you this vaccine that's fine. But you're gonna do it with us, not alone!"

Newt jumped forward and swung the launcher into Minho's face now.

"I'm a Crank, Minho! I am a Crank! Why can't you get that through your bloody head? If you had the Flare and knew what you were about to go through, would you want your friends to stand around and watch? Huh? Would you want that?" He was shouting by the time he finished, and was shaking more with each passing moment.

Sophie had shrunk back. Gally stood speechless. My heart was breaking more and more. We needed to get him to Hans.

Newt's glare shifted to me.