"You can't get us out of here," Harriet said, banging a fist on the wall. Dust crumbled to the floor, showering Sonya with pieces of the ceiling. She glared at Harriet and brushed it off. James smiled and pulled his big black coat back and off his arms, revealing a very dirty pinstriped suit.

"Well, why don't you start by letting me help you get out of here and above ground?" 

You didn't know what exactly made you want to trust this guy, but you did. You guessed it was nice for someone to take some responsibility in getting these girls back alive and in one piece.

"And how are you going to do that?" You raised an eyebrow and shifted your weight to your other foot.

"Just watch." 

You moved back towards the door, expecting James to get up, but he didn't, only leaned forward and dropped his feet to the ground. "Well?" you asked, starting to get fed up with this guy.

"Well, what?" he sighed and stuck out a hand. "Do we have a deal, or what?" 

Harriet widened her eyes and shook her head at you. "We don't even know him," she told you sternly.

"How else are we gonna get out of here?" you asked after a minute. You saw James smile a little out of the corner of your eye. "We'll see how it goes, but we're pretty much out of options -- besides, he's right," you paused and met her gaze. "We need to get everyone up and out of here. Alive."

Harriet looked about to argue, but then closed her mouth and crossed her arms again.

"We've just met him," she said again, shooting James a distasteful look.

"And we should be lucky we did," you shot back. "We don't have any other way of getting out of here."

"I have men out there," James said, pushing the chair and standing up. He grabbed his coat and shrugged it on again, taking his sunglasses out of the pocket and slipping them back onto his long nose. "They can help us take out the guards." He moved towards and door, and you fell into step behind him. "Who knows? You might even land yourself a few weapons. That's a very handy thing to have out here in the Scorch."

"Wait," you snapped, grabbing onto the back of his coat. "What do we do once we're out there?" 

James smiled. "Just follow my lead." With that, he slipped back outside, you close on his heels. Diving back into the blasting music and thrashing bodies was a bit disorientating, but you shook it off and stuck close to James, looking back every so often to make sure Sonya and Harriet were close behind you.

The group of girls was still clumped together, and you saw a few of their eyes light up once they caught sight of you.

"Sonya, you should go tell them," you said, nudging her with your shoulder. She glanced at you indigitately, then at Harriet, who nodded sternly at her and stomped off, shaking her head as she went.

James was weaving in and out of the crowd, being careful not to be hit by anyone. You got smacked in the face a couple times before you finally caught up with him. He'd stopped next to a guy who was slumped in a corner, a huge straw hat covering his face. James put a hand out to stop you, before going over to the man, and you watched as they whispered together for a few seconds, then nodded unanimously and broke off.

"What was that?" you hissed, falling into step beside him as he walked back the way you had come.

"Be ready," he answered with another sly smile.

"I'm serious." 

He didn't respond, just kept walking.

All at once, a mix of clamoring and screaming broke out, and you immediately glanced up at James, who nodded ever so slightly.

"Follow my lead," he muttered, not tearing his gaze from the path ahead, and ducking to dodge a man who stumbled and fell onto a collapsible table, breaking the whole thing and tumbling to the floor in a drunken heap. "I'm going to get you out of here." You heard Harriet scoff behind you.

You arrived back to the group of girls, who were now looking more confused than ever. Over by the entrance, the two guards were being wrestled to the ground by five men. Their discarded weapons lay a few feet away from them. To your surprise, no one noticed, either too busy dancing or trying to walk straight to bother helping one of the guards, who now lay unconscious in a line against the wall.

A few more men appeared out of the crowd, wielding spears and broken shovels and a few crossbows. "Those are for you," James said, stopping in front of Group B. "Everyone take something!" he called once his men had gathered around, handing off knives and rusted swords and splintered machetes. Teresa got a pointed spear thrust at her, and you got an old, dull sword. "Don't lose them." A few of the girls were just staring at the two of you, confusion written all over their dirt-smeared faces.

"Do as he says!" you called, surprised when Harriet made no move to take over. She just shrugged and stepped back. "We're getting out of here!"

"Hey!" a far-off voice yelled. You didn't even turn around.

"Now we're going to calmly walk out of here," James said, only loud enough for a few girls towards the front to hear. "And it's not our fault if anyone tries to stop us."

With that, he spun on his heel, and moved towards the exit. You stood there a moment, dumbfounded, before scrambling to follow, hoping the others would do so without much question. How was he so calm?

No one made a move to follow, and you didn't stop walking until the light and sound of the party, was far behind you. Even then, James didn't look back.

"Where are you taking us?" you asked after a good thirty minutes of silence.

"I know where we can get above ground," he said, his voice echoing down the dimly lit tunnel. "It's much safer up there."

"Where are all those people that helped us?" 

James smiled a little. "Why? Are you worried about them?" 

You shrugged and gripped your sword tighter. "No, just wondering... I guess."

"They're not leaving. We have arrangements, but most of them are on their way past Gone."

"The Gone?" 

James sighed and turned to you. "You really don't know what the Gone is?" 

You shook your head numbly, suddenly feeling beyond stupid. "No, I don't."

"They're Cranks," he said bluntly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Like, full-blown Cranks -- the kind that have to start suppressing urges to eat tiny children and have the tendencies to start screaming for no reason."

"That's terrible," you breathed.

"I've seen worse, kid."

More silence.

"How long have you lived down here?" you asked after a while, painfully wanting to change the subject. 

James paused, and for a second, you thought he hadn't heard you. "Since the Flare started -- it's been longer than I care to remember." he responded after a few seconds.

"Yeah..."

"I had a daughter, you know." 

You almost stopped walking completely and stared up at him in bewilderment. "R-really?"

"Yeah, a wife too."

"What was her name?" you asked when he didn't elaborate.

"My daughter's or my wife's?"

"Both."

"Rose."

"Your daughter's or your wife's?"

"Both."

"You named your daughter after your wife?" 

James nodded, the small smile disappearing. "They both got sick with the Flare," he muttered dismissively, obviously not wanting to talk about it anymore.

"I'm sorry."

Silence.

"She was only eight." 

You looked at the ground and closed your mouth, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Did the Flare really do this much damage? Tear apart families and lives?

Only one clear thought surfaced in the back of your mind. You clung to it.

What the hell was WICKED thinking?