Conflicted

chapter 2

I woke up in a building that was very similar to the one we set up base in. I thought it was at first, because then that would mean Jorge and the others were nearby and would surely help me. But then I realized this building was more run-down, more exposed. Jorge would never have picked this building for a base. Hell, I would never have picked this as a base, and I'm not as picky as Jorge.

It must've been late morning, because the sun was right in my eyes when I regained conciousness.

"The shank's finally awake," someone huffed nearby.

They didn't gag me, so I could scream bloody murder if I wanted too, but that could attract Cranks as well. Then I would be as good as dead.

"Who are you? What do you want from me?" I hissed at no one in particular. I still didn't see anyone.

"I would ask you the same questions," the same person responded. A tall, muscular Asian boy came out from the shadows, his eyes narrowed to slits.

"Calm down, pretty girl. We're friendly," another boy said, this one just as muscular. He had an accent.

"Look, all we want is food and an idea of where we are," a dark-haired boy said, emerging from behind the boy with an accent.

"Untie me first," I hissed. I couldn't tell them information when I was at a disadvantage.

"How do we know we can trust you, shank?" the Asian kid asked.

"Please, it's eleven to one. Unless you think a crazy girl can take all of you out, you can make sure I don't do anything stupid," I pointed out.

"Fine. But Frypan and Aris are going to guard you," the boy said, signaling for the two boys next to him to cut the bindings that held me to a rickety beam.

"Ooo, bodyguards. Hooray," I said, my words thick with sarcasm and rolling my eyes. And what the hell kind of names were Frypan and Aris?

"I guess I never introduced myself. I'm Thomas, and this is Minho and Newt," the dark-haired boy said bluntly.

"Brenda," I said. He extended his hand, but I just crossed my arms.

"So, can you answer our questions?" Thomas asked, putting his hand down.

"Got no more food on me, we're in this hell of a place called the Scorch, and I'm a girl who's slowly going insane with the Flare," I responded, keeping the answers short and simple.

"What the hell is the Flare?" Newt asked.

"The freaking virus that's in all of us. It eats away at your brain until you go insane," I said. Didn't everyone know that by now?

"Who the hell are you guys?" I then asked, out of curiosity.

Thomas looked at Minho and Newt, and they nodded. He jumped into this long story about them escaping some maze (it honestly sounded extremely kinky) with what sounded like mutated slugs called Grievers up until the point where they kindly kidnapped me. Newt and Minho chipped in at some places, but Thomas told most of the story. The part I perked up at the most was where he mentioned a cure. For the Flare.

I developed a plan in my head. I said, trying to keep my voice even, "I can get you food and through the city. But you'll have to let me lead."

"And why the hell should we trust you?" Minho scowled, crossing his arms tightly.

"Because if you don't you'll probably get your eyeballs ripped out by Cranks and slowly starve to death," I said matter-of-factly.

"Smart ass," he muttered under his breath. Which was ironic, because he seemed like one as well.

"She's given no reason to distrust her," Newt said, shrugging.

"Listen to facts, Minho. We've got a better chance with her than with nobody," Thomas said to his friend.

"Fine. But if this shuck-head tries to double-cross us, you two are dying first," Minho said, giving hard glares at both of them.

"So it's a deal," I said, wiping my hands on my pants. "Ready to see the Scorch?"