"WE DIDN'T LEAVE you behind!" Harriet said, frowning deeply at Reggie's accusation, "We came after you. You left us behind! All anyone talked about at the complex was that Thomas, Newt, and Minho had broken out and were in the surrounding forest somewhere. And since you two sticks weren't with us, we figured you broke out, too."

"Are you serious?" Reggie asked, nursing his reddish (Brenda-slapped) cheek.

Harriet sighed exaggeratedly, "Yes, Reggie."

The group had sat down on the floor now, forming a circle. Some, like Newt, Aris, and Stephen, were engaged in their own personal conversations nearby.

"Why did you escape, anyway?" Minho asked.

Marie answered, "Teresa said they're preparing to start another round. WICKED is gathering more Immunes to begin testing, with or without any result from these Trials. She convinced us to leave."

"Hate to barge in here, muchachos," Jorge said. "You can talk all day about this crap, but it means diddly unless we can get ourselves out of this nice little place. No matter who's on whose side."

"How do we always get into these messes?" Reggie wondered out loud.

Frankie silently agreed to that. First sign of trouble came faster than they had imagined, but the road to a normal life or a safe haven was way longer and much more complicated.

If these people actually sold her back to WICKED, everything would be a waste. She would be running uselessly in circle.

Just then the door to the room opened and three of their captors walked in with big sacks stuffed full of something, cutting their conversation short.

A fourth followed, armed with a Launcher and a pistol. He swept the room, looking for trouble, and the others started passing out what was inside the bags —bread and bottles of water.

An uneasy silence settled on the room as the kidnappers moved around, telling the victims to eat.

Minho nudged Frankie and whispered, "Only one of them has a weapon and he doesn't look so bad. I bet I could take him. What do you say?"

"Maybe," Frankie answered under her breath.

"Trust me," Minho gave her a wink, "And back me up here, people."

He gave a small nod to those who were close enough to hear his intention.

The kidnappers approached them and at their little group. Frankie took a roll and a bottle of water, but when the man tried to hand some bread to Minho, he swatted it away.

"Why would I take anything from you? It's probably poisoned."

"You wanna go hungry, fine by me," the guy replied, moving on.

He had nearly passed them when Minho suddenly leaped to his feet and tackled the man holding the Launcher. It slipped out of the guy's grip and discharged, sending a grenade up toward the ceiling, where it crashed in a display of lightning. The kidnapper was still on the ground when Minho started punching him, struggling to grab the man's pistol with his free hand.

For a moment, everyone froze.

But then movement exploded all at once.

The three other guards dropped their bags to go after Minho, but before they could take a step they had six people on them, throwing them to the ground.

Jorge helped Minho drag the guard to the floor and stomped on the man's arm until he finally let go of the pistol he'd pulled from his belt; Minho kicked it across the floor, and a woman picked it up.

Frankie swiped her good foot as hard as she could, sweeping one of them off their feet —quite literally. Thomas joined in and kept pinning him to the ground, delivering punches after punches to his face.

"Stop!" somebody shouted as he hurriedly entered the room.

Minho gawked at him, "Gally?!"

"Keep your pants cool, shanks," Gally said, motioning to his beaten up comrades. "Let them go."

"What the shuck is happening here? I thought kidnapping Immunes are WICKED's play!"

"In my defense, I did tell them to take you in gently."

"You better spill what's happening right now," Minho said, stepping away from the man on the ground, whose face was now covered in blood, "Or I'll gladly continue."

"Alright, listen up!" Gally clapped his hands to capture the mob's attention, "My name's Gally. I'm sure you've heard of us before —I work for the Right Arm. We've been planning to take over and destroy WICKED for their evil deeds, but considering the events these past few days, there's been a change of plans."

"What do you mean a change of plans?" Thomas asked.

"Later," Gally said curtly. He walked to the center of the room, closer to the bunch of random people who weren't a part of WICKED's Maze and Scorch Trials, "First of all, you should know that you people are a lot safer in here. In here, we have a locked door and no windows. Out there, either you got captured by WICKED to be their next toys or you'll be Cranks' delicious dinner. The most effective way to keep you alive is to keep you off the streets.

"WICKED's been spreading bogus about a nonexistent cure and a bunch of other useless klunk. How every penny, every man, every woman, every resource —it all had to be devoted to their so called noble cause. In the meantime, cities crumble; education, security, medicine for every other malady known to man are sucked up to their pot so they can do whatever they want to do.

"We could've stopped the spread of the disease a lot better than we've been able to cure the disease. But people were brainwashed to believe in WICKED, to think that the magical cure would save them in the end. The thing is, if we wait any longer, we'll run out of people to save.

"We've found an escape. To paradise —an island, far in the Southern continent. There are no skyscrapers and advanced technology yet, but it's free of Cranks, the Flare, and all the other madness you see around here. And you're here because you've been scouted to join that civilization and rebuild humanity.

"If you accept this offer, you'll go with two hundred other Immunes who had agreed before you. If you don't, you may leave."

"How— How do we know that paradise is real?" someone yelled.

"How are we gonna get there?"

"What about our families?"

"When are we going to leave?"

"The paradise is real, alright," Gally replied, "If you don't trust us, just go. This is the last batch of Munies we can take. We'll go through a Flat Trans in two days, prepared by a WICKED defector. And this offer is limited only to the people in this room, no bargain."

"What about the non-Immune people in this room?" Newt retorted loudly, his tone annoyed.

Gally turned around to look at him, "There's no non-Immune people in this room. You think I'll let them in here?"

"I don't know how many times I have to say this, but I am a Crank!"

"No, you're not."

"I am! I even lived in that Crank Pa—"

"You probably didn't feel it, but you've been tested in the van," Gally said, almost bored. He didn't know that Newt was not immune, and he didn't know the mindblowing impact his words had to his friends who knew. "You're cleared, Newt. Now can I continue without getting any more interruption?"

〰️

A/N:
Dun dun dunnnn
This is my fanfic I can do whatever I want and I wanna save Newt HAHAHA

Have a nice day people!