The Tributes from the Maze (Newt/OC)

Captured

"Hey, what's your name again?" Minho jogged to catch up with Harriet and spoke before she could answer his question. "Or can I call you mine?"

"Are your eyes a maze?" he continued when the dark-haired girl didn't answer. "Because I get lost in them. I must be a crank because I'm crazy for you. Are you the Scorch? You're super hot."

"When are you going to give it a rest? We need to find shelter." Harriet rolled her eyes at his efforts. "You're lucky that only stupid people roam through the forest at night, otherwise we might have company."

"We're roaming through the forest at night." Minho pointed out.

"I rest my case." the tall girl muttered under her breath with a glance at the boy.

"Is it really so bad? Being in a forest with me there beside you. Some might say it's romantic." he leaned over to put his arm around her shoulders. "If it gets cold I'll even snuggle with you. To preserve body heat, you know-"

Minho didn't have the chance to finish his sentence before Harriet's fist was sinking into his stomach, pushing the air from his lungs. The boy doubled over, struggling to draw in breath. He let out a small groan before beginning to give a sassy retort before Harriet held up a hand to silence him.

"Shut up. I see something," she whispered, her dark eyes following a shadow moving about the tree line.

"What is it?" Ruth, an even taller girl, asked warily as the group came closer together.

"Do you see that?" Marie, another tall girl - but not as tall as Ruth and Harriet - with a wild mane of curly black hair, slipped her hand over the long dagger sheathed at her side.

"See what? All I see are trees," Frankie's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he searched their surroundings.

"Nobody move," Harriet ordered as her line of sight followed a thin red beam of light that ended in a target over her chest. "On my count, we all hit the ground, okay?"

They nodded, tensing as they prepared to move.

"Three," the numbers came out in a shaky voice. "Two..."

"Drop the weapons and hands on your heads," A loud and authoritative male voice cut through the silence. "Or your leader gets shot."

The owner of the voice emerged from the darkness. The dark-skinned man was equipped with a gun and several other weapons hidden in his military uniform. He was clearly a trained soldier if his broad mass of muscles was any indicator of his physical regimen. More men and women emerged from the treeline, all with lethal weapons aimed right at them. Red dots were hovering over Harriet's chest.

"Would it help at all if I told you that I was actually the leader?" Minho raised a hand. Harriet shot him a glare as she and the man in front of them answered in unison.

"No."