Everywhere, Everything//Maze Runner

Day 940

"Fuck,"

Clara winced as blood splattered on the floor. Why she had been the one chosen to watch the torture that Jorge was inflicting, she didn't know. Maybe it was to stop Jorge from killing him.

The man they had captured, affectionately named Blondie due to his bleached hair, had been one of Jorge's crew.

It hadn't taken Jorge long to deduce that Blondie was the one who had caused WICKED to find them-- he had basically confessed to them after his surprise at their survival. Apparently they knew where the Right Arm was stationed to, and were planning an attack.

"Why am I here?" Clara hissed at Jorge. She was the only one in the room with him and Blondie. All the other Gladers were preparing downstairs for wherever their journey was heading. They needed to get out of the diminishing city soon before WICKED decided to destroy the whole place in search of them.

Jorge glanced back at her where she stood in the corner, her arms crossed. "You are to keep him from dying."

"I'm not going to be an accomplice to torture," Clara responded. "I am a medic, not a solider."

"What's the difference now anyways?" Jorge let out a dark chuckle. He slammed his fist into Blondie's face again.

Clara flinched and tilted her gaze upwards-- at least she didn't have to watch. There was a large spider in the corner, working its way around a struggling fly. At least something was thriving. She kept her eyes upwards, watching the fly slow its movements until it stilled. Clara wasn't sure if WICKED was the spider or if Jorge was.

Another punch. More blood. Charlie's blood on the back of her neck. The lingering noise of a gun.

"Okay," Clara stepped forward, placing her hand on Jorge's arm. She held tight, restraining him. "That's enough. Look at him."

Jorge scowled, a concerning gleam in his eyes. Clara cringed internally but didn't back down. If she were to lead, she needed to assert that she was in charge. She held his gaze until he turned away, looking up at the roof, his hands linking in his hair behind his head.

Clara leaned down to look at the man. She linked one hand in his long blond hair and tugged his head back. "Listen to me. You are going to tell us where the Right Arm is, and I'll let you leave, or I give you back to Jorge, and leave the room. What's it going to be?"

Blondie didn't know about the army of cranks filling the streets around the building— but that wasn't important.

Blondie let out a groan, hanging his head low. Clara stepped back, watching greasy, unwashed hair dangle in front of his darting eyes. He was considering then.

"Okay, fine," He hissed through his teeth. Clara could see blood on them. Jorge had really fucked him up. "The Right Arm is stationed somewhere in the mountains to the west. They've been attacking WICKED shipments for a while, taking the supplies and raiding any subjects. We were beginning to close in on their camp a week ago."

Clara paused. If she hadn't left the little compound after the maze, she might have been on one of those trains, heading to who knows where.

"Sounds like we have our next destination," Jorge muttered with a grin, swiping at his forehead to dry the cold sweat.

Clara frowned, staring at him. "We can't leave without Thomas, or Brenda, or Rosie."

A knock sounded at the door. "Actually, I don't think that'll be an issue."

Clara turned to face the door, shoving her red hair out of her face. What felt like eons in the desert had made it dry and tangled. No amount of water and bar soap last night had done anything. Tris had spent almost an hour detangling it last night, and it was still dry. She would have to get her to braid it back again before they left. Still, she wasn't used to it being in her face.