In my Blood

CHAPTER 23 - Mysterious Strangers

We all let out sighs of relief, shoulders relaxing as Minho lifts his head gingerly off the ground.

"You got struck by lightning," Thomas replies to Minho.

"Oh," Minho says simply. Then he lets out a small laugh, putting his head back on the floor. I shake my head in disbelief. That shank got struck by lightning and he's laughing about it? Is he crazy?

We all help Minho up, grunting and wheezing at the effort. Shooting pain spreads from my palms, and I have to grit my teeth together to keep myself from groaning. I pull my hoodie sleeves down my hands, pressing it against the blood.

"What happened, (y/n)?" Thomas asks. Everyone looks towards me.

"Oh, I uh – I cut myself. Landed on some glass," I reply, biting my lip.

"Let's see," Newt says, taking a step towards me and taking his hands in his. He peels back the sleeves. My palms are greasy with smeared blood, my fingers shaking. Newt's eyes are drawn away from the cuts on my palms and to the long slash against the top of my wrist, when that rope dug into my skin back at the Glade.

It suddenly hits me that the scar will probably never leave.

"Wait, what's that?" Teresa asks with curiosity, looking at the long cut.

"Happened back in the Maze. Some idiots decided to tie me up, but they didn't really do a good job of it," I reply, pulling my hands away from Newt's and wiping my palms against my trousers.

"(y/n), you still have some glass stuck in your hand..." Newt argues.

"Minho just got struck by lightning, and you're worried about a tiny bit of glass in my hand?" I reply with a light-hearted laugh.

"Guys..." Teresa whispers, lowering her voice. "I don't think we're alone..."

Everyone goes quiet. Sure enough, I hear sounds of shuffling around us, and a faint breathing to my right. A shiver runs down my spine, as if someone has just run long fingernails down my neck.

Teresa clicks a torch on, and suddenly a ghostly pale face lunges towards me, belonging to a rotten body of a Crank. Its eyes are lit up in a crazed, bloodthirsty madness, legs twisting unnaturally as it moves closer. I jump backwards, yelping in shock. I grab hold of Thomas and Newt's arms, forcing them backwards. We all yell as another Crank appears at the left, and two at the right. Only – they're not moving forward. Their bodies writhe and twist with beastly mannerisms, yet they don't move forward towards us.

Tied around the Cranks' arms and waists are thick chains, acting like leashes. They continue to try to get closer, but the chains are preventing them from moving any closer than they already are.

"What the klunk?!" Minho yells.

"I see you've met our guard dogs," a smooth voice greets from the shadows. Light comes on in a doorway, revealing the silhouette of the mysterious stranger. It's a girl, with a small, slim build and short hair. She saunters towards us, swinging her arms widely as she walks, almost carelessly, through the path of Cranks that line the room.

"You guys look like shit," she mocks, wearing a small smirk. "Come on, follow me."

We stare at her in disbelief as she turns her back. None of us move. She faces us again, eyebrows raised. "Unless you want to stay here with them?" She gestures towards the Cranks.

We grudgingly take a few steps forward, and follow her into the doorway, walking in single file to avoid getting grabbed by a Crank along the narrow pathway. The girl leads us into a large opening with warmly glowing lights.

"Come on, keep up," the girl calls back to us. "Jorge wants to meet you."

"Who's Jorge?" Thomas asks incredulously.

"You'll see," she replies vaguely. "No one's come outta the Scorch in a long time. You've got him curious." She looks back to us, setting her eyes on Thomas. "And me too," she adds.

We are led up a vast stairway, Newt's hand resting on my lower back the whole time. We notice a small crowd has gathered behind us, following us up the stairs, watching our every move. Big, bulky men with missing teeth or blood on their faces.

"Stick close to me," I hear Newt mutter into my ear. I nod quickly, swallowing a lump in my throat. I don't trust these people.

"Let's just listen to what they have to say," Thomas suggests. "Hear them out."

We finally go into a small room, where a man sits in front of a desk, facing away from us. The man fiddles with some equipment on his desk, an old radio and headset. He sighs, setting the headset down on the table as the girl slumps down on a sofa.

"Do you ever get the feeling the whole world's against you?" the man eventually says, turning around. He has darker skin and short greying hair. We all exchange uncertain glances at each other. I see Teresa nodding slightly, her eyes narrowed to the ground.

"Three questions," the man – Jorge – continues, "where did you come from, where are you going, how can I profit?"

No one answers.

"Don't all answer at once," Jorge says dryly.

"We're heading for the Right Arm," Thomas eventually replies. 

A few snickers echo from the men behind us. I see the girl on the sofa roll her eyes, and Jorge smiles.

"You're looking for ghosts, you mean," he says, taking a swig of water. My throat burns just watching him, imagining the cool, fresh water fill his mouth. "Question number two – where did you come from?"

Minho glares back at Jorge. "That's our business, shank."

Jorge shoots him a bored expression before shrugging. Suddenly, I feel hands grip onto my arms, dragging me away from the others, and see a bald man with a thick beard raise a gun to my head. My eyes widen and mouth shakes, but I don't dare to speak.

"Hey! Let go of her!" Newt yells. He lunges forward before Thomas and Minho drag him back, trying to stop him from fighting.

"We won't hurt your little girlfriend, hermano, unless you tell us where you came from," Jorge warns.

"Don't tell them," I say through gritted teeth. The man with the beard pushes his gun further against my forehead. The girl with the short dark hair strides towards me, holding up a strange-looking device to the back of my neck.

"W-What are you doing?" I stammer, closing my eyes. I hear a beeping noise, and feel a strange prick in my neck.

"Don't you hurt her!" Newt snaps.

"Wouldn't dream of it..." the girl murmurs distractedly, concentrated on the strange device. She walks away from me, holding the device up to examine it. The bald man lets go of me, and I rush back to the rest of the group, rubbing my neck.

"Are you okay?" Newt asks. I nod, though I'm still shaking in shock.

The girls stares in disbelief at the screen of the device. "You were right..." she breathes to Jorge. He puts on a pair of glasses and reads the screen.

"Ah," he says.

"What's going on?" Fry asks.

"Yeah, what's she talking about?" Thomas asks.

Jorge chuckles. "I'm sorry, hermano. Looks like she's tagged. You came from WICKED. And that, my friend, means you're very, very  valuable."