𝓢𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓯𝔂 》✮ TMR, Newt

068 - The song..bomb?

CHAPTER 68
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"Good evening!"

Echoed through the building as I started untying Newt. "This is the World Catastrophe Killzone Department".

Minho sighed loudly. "Janson".

"We have your compound completely surrounded". Janson spoke. "You find yourselves, through no fault of your own, in possession of WICKED property".

My eyes shot open in alert but my hand movements quickened.

"Hang on, guys". Thomas helped Frypan.

"Or you can resist". Janson continued through the speakers on the wall. "And every last one of you will die. It won't be long before the Flare wipes out the rest of us".

The Flare will kill the rest of humanity, or WICKED, in order to get us on their grounds?

"The hope of a cure lies in your hands. The choice is yours".

"Okay". Thomas said once we were all untied. "Let's go".

As soon as we turned around to leave, we came to a sudden stop. The man with the ugly teeth appeared in front of us, again but this time with a gun in his hands.

"We're not trying to cause any trouble, okay?" Thomas carefully said, holding his hands up. "We just got to get out of here".

"Is that so?" He looked at him straight in the eyes. The man grabbed a radiophone out of his pocket. "Janson, I got 'em for ya. I'm bringing
'em down".

"Don't you dare to shoot". Newt moved in front of me a little more.

"Come on. Let's go". He motioned the way with the gun. But no one reacted. "I said let's go!" He said more loudly this time.

Thomas rushed over to the man and tried to grab the gun out of his hands, but failed. Once the man recovered from the sudden action, he pointed the gun at us again.

"You little bastard!-".

Suddenly I heard a gunshot. A shiver went down my spine. Where did that come from and mostly..where did that gunshot land?

I was frozen in my place. Maybe my eyes were wide open but my gaze was on the wall.

Another hand grabbed mine and squished hard. That brought me to reality. It was Newt who was holding me.

My vision cleared and the man fell onto the floor.

Confusion washed over my face and I inspected the others. They might had a gun. But there was no wound on his torso.

I looked at the person behind him.

Brenda.

She was the one who shot the man.

At the same time, a song went off on the speakers.

A song.

A shucking song.

Brenda glanced up. "Let's go!" She motioned for us to follow her. "We don't have much time!" Brenda yelled as we ran up some stairs, probably on our way to Jorge.

"Right this way!" My suspicions were correct. Jorge was waiting for us there. He ran over to a window and pulled down a rope.

It was a zip line.