Left Behind//The Maze Runner

N I N E

I step through the doors to the main bedroom, three glasses of water in my hand. Taking a seat next to Minho on a velvet loveseat, I hand him and Newt, who sits on an armchair next to us, a glass, taking a sip from my own.

"Thanks," Newt says, a kind smile on his lips.

I nod, returning the smile. "So how's your arm doing?" I ask, my eyes moving down to the bandages and then back to his.

He looks down at his right arm, shifting the hem on the sleeve, softly shrugging as he does. "It's the same as it was. If anything happens, I'll make sure you're the first person I tell." He says, a smile spreading on his lips as his eyes move back to mine.

I return the smile as I take a sip of water, my eyes moving over to Jorge, watching the old man interrogate Marcus. His face is swollen, blood dripping down the cuts that have opened up across his face. The same eye that I hit is now sealed shut by blood and is twice the size it should be.

"I suggest you talk, you dirty rat!" Jorge shouts as he lands a punch on Marcus's jaw. The man's head jerks to the side, the chair shifting in place.

"I'm sorry," Marcus slurs, his words mushing together. "but you're going to have to leave my house."

"Look, hermano," Jorge clasps his hands on Marcus' shoulders,  leaning close to his face. "I don't enjoy hurting you," he says, earning a chuckle from the blond man. He stands tall, his eyes growing hard as he stares at Marcus. "Where is the Right Arm, Marcus?"

"Wait, this is Marcus?" Thomas asks, my eyes moving to the now awoken brunet boy. He just stares at the blond man with confusion, his eyes going back and forth between the two older men.

Marcus lets out another chuckle. "Kid catches on quick." He purrs, his eyes moving to Thomas. "Are you the brains of the operation?"

Jorge rolls his eyes and grabs hold of the front of Marcus's hair, pulling his head back onto the chair. Marcus lets out a cry of pain, his good eye squinting shut as he gulps, his body shaking with fear.

"I know you know where they're hiding," Jorge says, releasing the grip on Marcus's hair and taking a step back, folding his arms across his chest. "So I'll make you a deal. If you tell me, you can come with us."

Marcus begins to chuckle, it rising from his belly and making its way through his throat. "I burned that bridge a long time ago Jorge." He looks directly into Jorge's eyes, a smirk trying to form on his swollen lips. "Besides, I made my own deal. You're the one who taught me to never miss an opportunity." He starts chuckling like a madman, it turning into a cackle.

"What the hell is he talking about?" Newt asks Jorge, his voice growing stern.

Marcus's cold blue eyes turn to look at Newt. "I'm talking about supply and demand, little boy." He moves his eyes through our group, a smirk growing wide on his lips. "WICKED wants all the immunes they can get. I'm their provider. I lure the kids in, they get drunk and have a good time."

He looks back at Jorge, his good eye narrowing at the man. "Later WICKED comes in and, well, they separate the wheat from the chaff." He purrs, chuckling again, his head leaning back on the chair.

I roll my eyes as I look down at my water, finally taking a sip from it. This man is insane... But what if that's how I came to WICKED? What if that's how we all made it there?

Jorge lets out a breath, my attention going back to him as he looks directly into Marcus' eyes. "I guess I was wrong, hermano. I do enjoy hurting you." He lifts his foot and kicks Marcus square in the chest.

Marcus's chair rocks back, slamming down onto the floor, Marcus's head smacking onto the hardwood flooring. He lets out a groan, his head lolling to the side.