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Gally: Hey, I lost someone. Can I make an announcement?

Store Clerk: Yeah, sure.

Gally, leaning into the microphone: Goodbye, Thomas, you piece of shit.

-✼-

My body went cold. The guards had been there minutes prior, but now there was no trace of them, not even footprints on the dirt-dusted cement. I felt my stomach lurch; where could they have gone? And did they just abandon us even after Brenda's promise to raise the price?

Brenda leaned down, grabbed my hand, and heaved me to my feet. I could barely aid her from how stiff I was. It was as if the breath had been knocked from me. How could I not have noticed them leave?

"Come on." Thomas began walking toward the open mass of Cranks outside the bowling alley. The amount seemed to have tripled since we went inside, with people milling about at every turn. I felt my chest squeeze as if it was caving in. I wasn't claustrophobic, but in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to flee the surrounding area.

"Look at these jokers," a voice sneered.

"Yeah, ain't they pretty!" another taunted loudly. "Come to play with the Cranks. Or are you on your way to joining us?"

With Brenda still holding tightly onto my arm, I turned and searched for the others. Thomas was still leading us with a seemingly determined stride. But Minho was in the middle, eyes glazed over and lips parted in shock as if he wasn't seeing the mob surrounding us. My heart ached in sympathy for him. Even until the inevitable end of their friendship the meeting brought about, he still had hope. Blindly, maybe, but it was hard to blame him.

Garret was tailing Minho. Jorge made up the caboose of our train, lips pulled into a thin line.

We passed under the gate that marked the end of the Central Zone. Only then did the tightness in my chest lighten up, allowing more breath to enter my lungs. I felt slightly better once the crowds began to diminish.

Thomas led us down the main street, passing the rings of run-down houses. Brenda released my arm somewhere along the line. I slowed my pace so she passed me, then matched my footsteps with Minho's.

I knew words couldn't and wouldn't make him feel better, so I slipped my fingers into his and squeezed. The contact seemed to slip him from whatever stupor he'd been in; his gaze shifted to me as I gave him an encouraging nod. He merely swallowed uneasily.

But the moment was shattered by the sound of shouts from behind. Boots slamming on pavement made my ears perk up, and I turned to see the two guards sprinting toward us with identical expressions of fear on their faces. I noticed with a sickening feeling that their Launchers were gone.

"Run!" the one with the mustache commanded. "Run!"

Minho finally found his voice as they careened past us. "Hey! Get back here!"

The man turned his head just enough to yell, "I said run, you idiots! Come on!"

Thomas took off sprinting after them. I barely had time to swear under my breath before Minho was yanking my sleeve, forcing me along with him. My shorter legs were a blur as I struggled to keep up with the Runner's quick pace. It had been a long time since I'd had to move like that, and my heart struggled to keep up with the sudden strain.

"What — the hell — is happening?" I managed to gasp between labored breaths. The waste of air caused my lungs to burn as if a hole had been ripped through them. I couldn't get enough oxygen if I tried.

"At least a dozen Cranks!" Garret reported. Though he'd been a Raiser in the Glade, whatever he went through since then had given him more endurance and speed.

I quickly glanced behind me, daring to spend only a second to see for myself. Sure enough, a small crowd of half-crazed people was trailing us. Their limbs moved wildly like they'd lost control of them. Some released squeals from deep within them, sounding inhumane and nearly animalistic to my ears.

"Don't look back," Minho ordered to me quietly. I immediately faced forward again, nearly tripping over my own two feet. He was still pulling me at the same speed as him. Then, to the guards, he asked, "What happened?"

"They dragged us away from the Zone!" the shorter one answered. "I swear to God they were gonna eat us. We barely escaped."

How in the world did I miss that?

"Don't stop running!" the other added. They suddenly split off in another direction, disappearing down an alley so well-hidden that I had to do a double-take. But the rest of us continued heading for the exit that led to the Berg.

"They can't catch us!" Thomas called from the front. "Keep going, we're almost there!"

It was a good thing, too, because I wasn't sure how much longer I'd last. My heart was thudding so hard I could scarcely hear much except for the roar of my blood in my ears. The skin on my face had flushed an intense red, sweat dotting my neck and threatening to drip down my forehead. Every step made me feel the energy draining from me like a vacuum.

We finally reached the gate. Thomas hurled it open and sprinted through without stopping. Jorge didn't dare attempt to waste precious seconds closing it. We merely continued up the ramp, throwing ourselves inside the aircraft. Brenda slammed her finger on the button to close the door before Jorge was even inside. Just as the ramp began to rise, he took a running leap and slid onto the floor.

While he left to fly the Berg, the rest of us laid on the ground to catch our breath. The cool air from the ventilation system blasted on our sweating skin. Everyone's faces were beet red from the strain, heaving breaths mingling into the air.

"You - were right," Thomas gasped to me. I stayed staring at the ceiling, perfectly aware that the others had no idea what he was referencing. "You were right. I'm - I'm sorry."

-/-

I found Minho curled against the wall in the main room, twiddling his thumbs mindlessly as he stared at them. He glanced up at the sound of my feet nearing him. My eyes asked a silent question that he nodded to.

I plopped down beside him with a sigh, unsure of exactly why I came over here. His silent suffering was worse than when he was acting out. It was so unlike him to be like that- reclusive, drawn into himself. Quiet.

"What was he like." Minho's question came out more like a statement. When I looked at him, he sniffed. "Before we got back."

A breath came out of my mouth. I directed my gaze to the floor between my knees, which were drawn up to my chest. "Hostile. Like everything I said was taken the wrong way, no matter what it was. He expressed annoyance about Thomas and I being special—"

Minho scoffed at that. I stopped short and glanced at him again, only to find out that it had actually been a chuckle.

"The Wonder Twins," he joked half-heartedly.

"As if I asked for any of this," I continued, shaking my head. I drew in a deep breath. "For that — that thing to be in my head, to be manipulated like a puppet. To nearly be driven to insanity by Phase Three. Which, by the way, were all of my worst fears thrown at me." A cruel laugh escaped me at the memory of the sheer terror I felt. The Grievers, killing my friends, losing my loved ones.

"He pointed a Launcher at my face," Minho deadpanned. I gave a shallow gasp. "Thomas doesn't think that he would've pulled the trigger, but you should've seen the look in his eye. As if he'd already gone mad."

I hesitantly put a hand on his knee. He gave me a slightly bewildered expression at first, but nevertheless accepted the gesture. Though we rarely engaged in physical contact in means of encouragement, I figured we were past caring about what was usual. Nothing was usual anymore.

"I already told Thomas this, but..." Minho sucked in a breath. "I think I understand W.I.C.K.E.D a little better, now. I've seen the Flare's effects firsthand. And maybe I wouldn't have done it the same way those klunkheads did, but I'd definitely try to save the human race."

"W.I.C.K.E.D is good," I recounted absentmindedly. "Maybe once, that was true."

Maybe that was what Teresa believed in. What the organization was originally founded to do- save humanity. Maybe, in another universe, she'd be the new leader once we destroyed it. I'd trust her to do it right.

But for now, we had much bigger problems ahead of us.

-/-

The two days we spent in the Berg were spent mainly resting up. We had decided that meeting Gally was the next best thing to do, because he could help us with the Right Arm. Garret had given us all the information he could. Unfortunately, it still wasn't enough.

The thought of seeing him again gave me mixed emotions. Although Gally and I never got off on the right foot, I was willing to start over, or at least put our disputes behind in order to get things done. Our petty disagreements in the Glade seemed so stupid to me now. Hopefully he'd feel the same way.

Thomas arrived at breakfast after his shower. His raven hair was still damp, but he didn't seem to care even as some of the water dripped down his neck and onto his collar. The air in the room was thick with apprehension. All of us were nervous.

The gist of the plan was to meet Gally at his apartment and continue from there. It wasn't much of a plan, but at least it was better than nothing. And better than nothing seemed great to me.

"Let me do the talking again," Jorge commanded once we were readily standing by the hatch door.

Brenda nodded in agreement. "And when we get in, we'll find a cab."

"Fine," Minho mumbled. "Let's quit this shuck yapping and go."

Jorge pressed the button that controlled the ramp. I breathed in deeply to expel my nerves as its familiar mechanical whir filled my ears. It had barely made it halfway to the ground before I caught sight of some unexpected guests. Two men and one woman, each wearing the same gear as the people who'd stormed in and taken Newt. But instead of being relatively clean as the others had been, these strangers were covered in dirt and sweaty. The men carried pistols.

"What is this?" Jorge demanded.

"Shut your mouth, Munie," one of the men ordered. He, like the other two, wore a mechanical mask that slightly muffled his voice. "Now step down from there nice and easy, or you won't like what happens. Don't. Try. Anything."

Thomas nudged me lightly in the arm and slightly jut his chin toward the doors to the city. They were wide open, two lifeless bodies lying motionless in the alley that led to the city. My swallow felt dry.

"You start firing that thing, hermano, and we'll be on top of you like stink on a dookie," Jorge threatened, whatever that meant. "You may get one of us, but we'll get all three of you punks."

I really wished Jorge would stop mouthing off to people with guns when we were the ones empty-handed.

"We've got nothing to lose," the man replied. "Give it your best shot. I'm pretty confident I'll nail two of you before anybody takes a single step." He raised his arms so the barrel was aimed at Jorge's face.

"Fair enough," he muttered before putting his hands up in surrender. "You win for now."

Minho groaned. "You are one tough slinthead." He, too, raised his hands. "You guys better not drop your guard. That's all I'm saying."

The rest of us followed suit in the action, if not somewhat reluctantly. Thomas was the first to walk down the ramp. We were led to the back of the Berg, where an old, beat-up van was parked behind it, waiting. A woman with a mask sat in the driver's seat. Two others with Launchers perched on the bench seat behind her.

"Looks like a party," Garret mumbled dryly.

One of the men whisked the side door open. "In you go. One wrong move and bullets start flying. Like I said, we've got nothing to lose. And I can think of a lot worse things than the world with two or less Munies in it."

Thomas climbed into the vehicle, asking, "Who's paying you to steal Immunes?"

As expected, he didn't get an answer.

I found myself squished between my brother and Garret, who was clenching his fists tightly in his lap. I wished I could console him somehow, but truthfully, I was just as terrified.

"There's a pile of black hoods in the corner," the leader said. "Put them on. And it won't sit well with me if I catch you peeking during the ride. We like to keep our secrets nice and safe."

Someone passed me a hood. I stared at it for a second, releasing a trembling breath before yanking it over my head. There was nothing but inky black to see as the engine roared to life and we were moving.

gif is newt because it's probably the last one i'll use ):

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yes, i'm alive! i'm sorry for the slow update, but i recently had surgery, which considerably delayed me from writing. i also suffered from lack of inspiration. but here i am!

questions:

-what was your favorite part of the chapter?

-is there something in particular you're hoping to see before the book ends?

-if dylan and gally meet again, what do you think will happen between them?

-will they ever settle their differences and get along?

hopefully the next update won't take almost 2 months like this one!

-kristyn