𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ༒ minho, tmr

forty ~ the taste of blood

✵

The world seemed to hold its breath as Thomas's finger hovered over the detonator, the weight of the moment crashing down on him, his pulse racing in his ears. His friends, his family, were seconds away from death, and yet the sound of something far louder than his inner turmoil reached their ears.

A deafening roar sliced through the stillness.

The ground vibrated beneath them, the sudden force of a massive engine tearing through the camp with unrelenting power. Before anyone could react, a truck burst through the crates and ruins of the camp. The soldiers' shouts of surprise and panic were drowned out by the thunderous screech of metal on metal as the vehicle tore through the camp, smashing everything in its path.

Without warning, the truck accelerated harder with a violent roar, its tires leaving a trail of fire and dust in the air. It rammed directly into the side of a WCKD helicopter parked nearby, its propellers still whirling as it was sent flying, the blades slicing the air in a deadly frenzy. It crashed into the ground, debris flying in all directions like deadly shrapnel, tearing into the soldiers and forcing the Gladers to dive for cover.

"Get down!" Minho shouted, grabbing Londyn and pulling her to the ground just as a shard of metal whizzed past them, embedding itself into the dirt. The deafening roar of the truck's engine drowned out the chaos as it continued its relentless path through the camp, smashing crates, tents, and soldiers alike.

"What the hell is happening?!" Londyn cried, covering her eyes as Minho hovered above her, shielding her with his body. She was trembling, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. When the debris stopped targeting them, they sat up, glancing at each other, wide-eyed and utterly shaken.

There was no time to talk. They picked themselves up as quickly as possible, the noise of chaos and destruction ringing in their ears. Then, a nearby gun charged up with a razor-sharp hum. Thomas's eyes widened, and before the soldier could shoot him or any of his friends, he hurled the explosive device still in his hand at the WCKD men.

He turned on his heel, flailing in the direction of his friends. "Run! Get down!"

Stumbling over his own feet, Thomas covered his face as the explosive detonated behind him. The blast sent a shockwave of dust and fire through the air, forcing his friends to crouch in shock.

Out of the thick cloud of smoke, Janson emerged quickly, whacking Thomas hard in the cheek with his fist before pinning him to the ground. The weight of Janson's boots crushed Thomas's arms, and his struggles grew frantic as the WCKD leader pulled out a pistol, aiming it down at his face.

"What a waste," Janson sneered, his voice dripping with cold malice.

But before he could pull the trigger, the whoosh of a gunshot tore through the chaos, and Janson crumpled to the ground with a howl of pain. Thomas scrambled up, his face snapping toward the source of the shot.

There stood Brenda, her silhouette stark against the war. With a smug grin on her face, she reloaded for another round. Without time to react, Thomas staggered to his feet and sprinted toward his friends, Brenda's cover fire lighting the way.

"Vince, go!" Harriet yelled, grabbing a gun from a fallen soldier and firing rapidly. Vince didn't need to be told twice. He vaulted onto the back of the truck, wrenching the mounted machine gun into position. With a furious yell, he unleashed a barrage of bullets, tearing through the ranks of WCKD soldiers and stirring up clouds of dirt and smoke.

"Keep running, Londyn!" Minho shouted, pushing her forward as the group tried to make their escape. His speech was desperate, his face lined with fear for her safety. "Don't look back!"