Desire // Gally x Reader

Chapter Nine - Preperation

We leave the room and Gally leads us to the same sewer grate they had emerged from just hours before. We change into outfits that Valentino hands us, and once I'm fully clothed, I realise that we're wearing the uniform most confidently sported by WICKED guards. I've got to say, their textiles skills are horrendous.

As I lower myself into the sewer, the cold, murky air hits my face. The smell was rank- mold, stale water, something metallic. I had to stifle a gag. But there wasn't time to complain. Newt went first, shining his flashlight down the path, the thin beam barely cutting through the dark. Frypan followed closely, muttering something under his breath, probably about what we'd have for dinner if we ever made it out.

I glanced over at Thomas, his eyes fixed ahead, sharp and determined. He'd barely said a word since we'd decided to take Teresa, her hands bound and face unreadable. She used to be one of us, and now she was... well, none of us could look at her the same. Jorge was right behind her, whispering warnings every time she so much as looked away from the path.

But then there was Gally, right next to me. He walked close, his presence solid, an anchor in all the chaos. The dim light cast shadows across his face, and I caught a glimpse of that haunted look he wore. His jaw was clenched tight, probably thinking about Minho, about what we're risking to get him back. I reach out and lightly brush his arm. He looks down at me, and I know he's glad that I'm here.

We trudge forward, feet splashing in the shallow muck. The sound echoed around us, making it feel like we were surrounded by unseen things lurking in the shadows. Brenda was right behind me, and I hear her utter things about how she'd seen too many horror movies that begin this way. She wasn't wrong. Every step felt like we were moving deeper into some kind of twisted nightmare, one where the only way out was through.

"Keep moving," Lorenzo whispered, more to himself than to the rest of us. The walls felt like they were closing in, thick with grime and memories of things long forgotten. I shivered, but not from the cold.

Ahead, Newt's flashlight flickers for a moment, and the beam illuminates Teresa's face. Her eyes meet mine, and for a second, there was something there, like she wanted to explain, to say something. But I look away. There's nothing left to say. We all have our roles to play, and she's chosen hers.

The atmosphere is so quiet I'm certain my heartbeat must be sending ripples into the liquid below. In order to ease the tension, I attempt something that I decide can only be beneficial. "Alright, we all know I'm shit at pep talks, but Thomas doesn't seem like he's in the mood to give one. I guess all I can say is... expect the unexpected," I announce, nodding at my friends.

No one says anything for a while, until Enzo awkwardly contradicts me. "Uhm, y/n, it's actually impossible to expect the unexpected, because expecting it would mean that it's not unexpected so that would just make it expected, not unexpected, therefore making it impossible to expect the unexpected as the unexpected would become the expected which completely defeats the purpose."

"What the fuck," I whisper, poking his cheek to see if he's real. "He's so lifelike. I get that you're nervous, Enzo, but your head is in a seriously weird place right now," I say, my brows creasing at him. His gaze drops to the ground, and he falls back in behind us.

I hear Newt clear his throat up ahead. "Whilst we're on the topic of what we're about to do, if someone gets nosey, then, you know, shoot them," he says nonchalantly. "Shoot them?" I repeat. "Politely," he replies. "Is it even possible to shoot someone politely? Enzo?" I ask, turning my head to the boy in the hopes to spike another tangent. He chuckles lightly and continues walking, head pointed at the ground.

The tunnel ends abruptly, and a sliver of moonlight slices through the darkness ahead, beckoning us forward. Newt and Brenda stumbled out first, both squinting at the sight. I follow, gasping softly as the city unfolds before me.

It was... perfect. Nothing like the decay we'd seen everywhere else, not even a hint of the Cranks or the endless dust of the scorch. Here, everything was polished pristine glass and steel, the skyscrapers towering above us like they stretched all the way to the clouds. Clean streets, manicured sidewalks, bright holographic billboards- it was mesmerising. Fry and Lorenzo had gone quiet, just staring at the scene before us, jaws slightly open. I can't blame them, we'd never imagined a place like this actually existed, where everything felt too perfect to be real. It must seem utopic to those who don't know the horrors in the central building.

"Hard to believe this is the same world," Fry whispers, eyes wide. Jorge gave a short laugh. "It wasn't this shiny twenty years ago. Guess they've been busy." I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the awe. We didn't have the time to stand around admiring the city; we have a job to do, and Minho is still out there. Gally moves to the front, his voice low as he lays out the plan. We'll split up, each with a task to hit WICKED from every possible angle.

"Thomas, Newt, Y/n, you're with me," he says, nodding towards the building a few blocks away. "We'll follow Teresa inside as her guards. If it looks like we're transporting her, we might blend in long enough to find where they're keeping Minho and the others." Teresa, quiet this whole time, nodded defeatedly, allowing Thomas to remove her bindings. She knows none of us will hesitate to shoot her if she doesn't cooperate.

Brenda gives us a small, tight smile. "See you on the other side. I'll get the bus ready for our getaway." I nod back, feeling a rush of gratitude. She and Jorge have done a lot to help us, even though they don't owe us anything. Fry grins at us, rolling up his sleeves. "You better make it quick. I'll have that crane ready to get you out as soon as you give the signal."

Jorge and Lorenzo are last. Jorge tilts his head, half smiling. "Once you're all finished, we'll have the aircraft ready. Just don't keep us waiting." Lorenzo, wide-eyed but ready, nods fiercely.

With one last glance at each other, we break into our teams and set off. Every step towards the WICKED building made my heart pound harder, and the towering structure loomed larger with every block. Inside those walls was Minho, and every other kid they've taken. And for once, we have the advantage.

The city is gleaming, beautiful, and cold, but none of that matters. What matters is getting inside, getting our people, and getting out.