A Group B fanfiction following Group B's Keeper of the Runners (Minho's equivalent), Rogue. Read the Scorch Trials through the perspective of Group B.
'Every time she closed her eyes, she saw them-her friends and their bodies. She saw Rachel and Ada...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗☼╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝
FINALLY, THE MAN broke the silence, his voice rough and low. 'You ladies alright?'
No one answered. The only sound was the ragged panting from the girls around Rogue. The man huffed out a laugh, rubbing his thumb across his brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. 'Where'd you girls come from, anyway?' he asked, his voice carrying a thick southern drawl.
It was a split-second decision: Rogue raised her gun, aiming it squarely at him. 'Who are you?' she demanded, her distrust thick in the space between them.
The man threw his head back in laughter, holding his stomach as if she'd just told the funniest joke he'd ever heard. 'Now, we all know there ain't nothin' in that there cartridge, sweetheart.'
Rogue's grip lightened on her empty weapon, but her stare didn't waver. 'What do you want with us?' she spat, cold and cutting.
He shook his head, taking a few steps back, his hands help up in mock surrender. 'You got me all wrong,' he said. 'I ain't like that. Just sayin'— it's not safe for you girls to be out here, is all. Where you headed?'
Harriet stepped forward now. 'Somewhere safe,' she replied. At this, the man's smirk deepened, and he dipped his head in a slow, knowing nod. 'I see,' he said, a hint of amusement beneath his words. 'Well, maybe I could be of some assistance.'
Sonya emerged from the back of the crowd. Rogue had never seen her look so intimidating before, walking with so much unwavering assurance. 'Thank you...' She waited for a name. 'Huck,' the man replied.
'Right. Thank you, Huck, but we don't need your help,' she said, firm and steady with a tilt of her chin. 'And for your information,' she added, circling her gun to her front, 'mine's got plenty.'
The man let out another laugh, this one deeper, and Rogue felt her irritation spike. What exactly was so funny? The fact that they'd nearly been slaughtered, every one of them? She didn't find it so amusing.
'You don't need my help?' Huck echoed. 'Right, okay... So, you ladies plan on roaming, in any and every direction, looking for somewhere safe,' he said, throwing up air quotes, 'until you magically stumble upon a place that ain't crawling with Cranks? Which, by the way, you won't be able to shoot down?' He tutted, shaking his head. 'Yeah, I don't buy it.'
Rogue leaned in close to Harriet. 'Let's just move along,' she whispered. But Harriet didn't budge. She was fixed on Huck, assessing him. 'What could you offer us?' she asked.
He didn't miss a beat. 'Safety. Now, I can't keep y'all for long, but I got room for a few nights. Got a house just ten miles out from here—well protected, communal. It's where I just come from.' Harriet gave a small nod, eyes narrowing slightly. 'And what do you want in return?'
