Disclaimer:

Alby: I'm going to Taco Bell, y'all want anything?

Chuck: I want my parents back

Alby: Yeah I got like 12 dollars

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After the episode with the unnamed woman, the other people in the room either appeared like they wanted to stay close to us or as far away as possible. Minho led me to where Jorge and Brenda had taken seats near the door. It was as if they were waiting for someone to come in and give us the opportunity to break out.

Garret followed, but didn't sit. He leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles with his arms folded across his chest. It was like he was trying to keep himself distant from the other people in the room; I couldn't blame him.

I glanced down at my wrists, where they continued to pulse with an ache. Red imprints from the woman's fingers were forming on my skin. I rubbed them absentmindedly

"That lady was crazy," Minho declared, catching sight of the angry marks. I hastily hid them from view by crossing my arms.

"You already said that, Minho," I sighed.

"I know. Just felt the need to say it again."

The talk between Thomas and Teresa didn't last for much longer. Brenda nudged us and nodded to where he was beginning to walk toward us, an undetectable emotion on his face. I attempted to read through his mask. It was like he was struggling to keep up an indifferent façade. Teresa, however, had a flash of hurt in her expression as she watched him go.

So that went well.

Minho glared sharply at my brother as he plopped down beside us. "So what did that shuck traitor " – I elbowed him, causing him to change the course of that sentence – "she have to say?"

Thomas wrung his hands together nervously, resting his elbows on his knees to hide his anxiety. "She said that the reason they escaped was because they found out W.I.C.K.E.D plans to start all over again if they have to. That they were rounding up Immunes – just like Gally and Garret said. She swears that somehow they were led to believe that we'd already broken out and that they looked for us." He paused as if bracing for a reaction he knew was coming. "And she'd help us if she can."

Minho shook his head. "You're a slinthead. You shouldn't have talked to her."

"Thanks," Thomas said sarcastically as he rubbed his face in exasperation.

I glanced between them. "You're the slintheads. You wanna know the truth, ask Aris. Someone from Group B. Anyone else who was with her- see if they say the same thing she did."

My brother sighed. "Didn't think about that."

"Hate to barge in here, muchachos," Jorge barged in. "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."

Just as he finished, the door opened and three of our captors filed in, carrying large sacks stuffed to the brim with unknown substances. Another followed with a Launcher and a pistol. His gaze swept the room as if scanning for trouble, keeping us at bay as the other three started passing out bread and bottled water from the bags.

"How do we always get into these messes?" Minho wondered rhetorically. "At least we used to be able to blame everything on W.I.C.K.E.D."

"Yeah, well, we still can," Thomas muttered dryly.

"Good." Minho cracked a grin that seemed terribly out of place there. "Those shuck-faces."

The silence that fell over the room was tense. Even though we were so close to the door, the kidnappers chose to move to the right first. We were on the left.

Minho leaned forward and murmured, "Only one of them has a weapon. And he doesn't look so bad. I bet I could take him."

"Only one has a weapon that you can see," I pointed out under my breath. "For all you know, those other goons could have handguns tucked under the waistbands of their jeans."

"Trust me, Dyl Pickle," Minho said with the smile returning to his lips. "I got this."

I was too stunned at the nickname to retort. Newt had been the only one to call me that thus far, and Minho had never used a nickname for me before. He didn't seem to notice what he said; he was too focused on what he was about to do.

The four adults approached our group. Thomas grabbed his portion and one for me as well, placing it in my lap because I still hadn't moved. Minho merely swatted the man's hand away when he tried to offer him the food.

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

"You wanna go hungry, fine by me," the guy drawled, already carelessly moving on.

He almost passed us when Minho abruptly jumped to his feet and tackled the man with the Launcher. I was snapped out of my daze when a discharge was accidentally fired at the ceiling, exploding into a ball of lightning that lit up the entire room in a blinding flash of bright light. The bread and water fell to the ground as I shot out of my seat. My eyes wildly scanned the brawl, wondering where I could successfully jump in.

Minho started an all-out war. As the other three people moved to help out the guy he was punching, six people jumped on each of them. The Keeper was struggling to hold the man's pistol down. I decided that was where I could start.

As his muscles strained against Minho's, I stomped my foot on his wrist as hard as I could, causing him to scream and open his palm. I snatched the weapon from his hand and twisted my shoe for good measure. Minho grinned darkly at me before landing another solid punch to the man's jaw. His face was getting bloody already, crimson rivers flowing from his twisted nose. Jorge helped the Keeper drag the man toward the wall, adding kicks when he tried to struggle out of their grips.

"Stop!" Brenda cried, aiming the Launcher at our kidnappers. Her brows were furrowed in determination. I felt every bit threatened by her despite the fact she was on my side.

People were already pulling the other three guards toward where Jorge had placed the other. Soon, they were all lined up with their backs to the floor.

Minho stood, chest heaving and a snarl on his face. His knuckles were skinned and his posture was tense enough that he'd be ready to attack again if necessary.

I remembered the weapon in my hand and aimed it toward the four people on the floor, a frown pulling down my lips as I fought to keep my hands steady. Guns and I didn't mix.

"We have to get them to talk," Thomas announced. "We have to hurry before backup comes."

"We should just shoot them in the head!" a man called out. "Shoot them and get out of here!"

A few more people muttered in agreement. I tightened my grip on the pistol and exhaled slowly. If someone didn't hurry up with an interrogation, things would move downhill very fast. These people had been locked up for who-knew-how-long; they wanted revenge and freedom.

I crossed the remaining distance between the man who'd been holding the bread and I. As his frightened eyes met mine, I raised the barrel toward him. My stance didn't waver. "Talk."

Thomas joined me, crouching over and yanking the guy up by the collar of his shirt. His fearful gaze flickered between my brother's snarling face and the gun I was pointing at him.

"I'm going to count to three," Thomas muttered. "You either start telling us what W.I.C.K.E.D plans to do with us and where you were going to meet them or she'll pull the trigger." His grip tightened. "One."

"W.I.C.K.E.D?" the man asked, words spilling from his mouth so quickly he was nearly tripping over them. "We got nothing to do with W.I.C.K.E.D."

"You're lying. Two."

My palms suddenly felt sweaty. I adjusted my grip on the handle and braced myself.

"No, I swear! This has nothing to do with them! At least as far as I know."

"Oh really? Then you want to explain why you're out kidnapping a bunch of immune people?"

The man hesitated. I stiffened, waiting for Thomas to finish the countdown that'd have me sending a bullet into the guy's brain. But the moment never came.

"We work for the Right Arm."

Thomas almost blanched, but managed to catch himself and bury his confusion. "What do you mean you work for the Right Arm?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" the guy asked almost incredulously. "I work for the freaking Right Arm. Why's that so hard to understand?"

Thomas pulled himself away a bit, his grip on the man's collar relaxing in the slightest. "Then why would you be out capturing Immunes?"

"Because we want to," he replied vaguely. "You ain't got no business knowin' nothing else."

"Shoot him and move on to the next one!" someone in the crowd urged. I shot a glare in that general direction. I didn't want to shoot the guy, and neither did Thomas, which explained his stalling. It was all just a scare tactic to get him to talk.

My brother's face twisted once more. "You're awfully brave considering there's a gun pointed at your face right now. I'll count to three one more time. Tell me why the Right Arm would want Immunes or I'll just have to assume you're lying. One."

"You know I ain't lying, kid."

"Two."

My hands were shaking.

"She isn't gonna kill me. Look at her."

Thomas turned to me, noticing the desperation in my eyes and my trembling hands. I sighed and lowered the pistol. I couldn't kill a man just to prove a point. Maybe I could beat someone up, but ending their life was a step across the line.

"We're supposed to be on the same side, here," I said, flexing my wrists and turning the safety on the gun.

The man sat up slowly along with his three friends. "If you want answers, then you'll have to ask the boss. We seriously don't know anything."

"Yeah," the guy next to him added. "We're nobodies."

Brenda stepped closer, still holding the Launcher firmly in her arms. Even if couldn't shoot them, she could. "And how do we get to this boss of yours?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea."

Minho groaned, grabbing the gun out of my hands and pointing it at the man's foot. There was a click as the safety turned off and it was loaded. "I've had enough of this klunk. Fine, we won't kill you, but your toe's gonna be smarting something real awful in three seconds if you don't start talking. One."

"I'm telling you, we don't know nothin'."

Minho's face was blank. "Fine."

He pulled the trigger.

I jumped in surprise at the sound of the gun firing. Where the man's pinky toe had once been, there was only a bleeding wound- even that part of the shoe was missing. He howled and grabbed at his foot, wailing in agony.

"How could you do that?" the woman next to him yelled, rushing forward to help him. She pulled a wad of napkins from her pocket and held them against his gushing wound.

My widened eyes glanced at Minho. His stance was firm, no remorse shining in his eyes. Thomas appeared both frightened and impressed by our friend's actions.

He kept going. "Okay, while she's working on that poor foot of his, someone better start talking. Tell us what's going on or we're going to lose another toe." He waved the pistol at the other remaining guards. "Why are you kidnapping people for the Right Arm?"

"We told you, we don't know anything!" the woman exclaimed from where she was continuing to apply pressure to the toeless man's foot. Her brows were furrowed, still with disbelief plastered on her face.

Minho, unimpressed, turned his head to me. "Dylan, show these shuck-faces what happens when you don't give a master of martial arts the answers she wants."

I wasn't "a master of martial arts" by any means, but it was likely just meant to intimidate the kidnappers even more than his gun. I was hyperaware of the stares of my friends on me as I crouched beside the next man in line. My eyes carefully avoided his as I swiftly jabbed my thumb into the kote pressure point, which was a precise spot near the inside of his elbow. It was the easiest to reach and a reasonable place to start. As my finger sharply came in contact with the tender area, the man released a cry and scrunched his face in pain.

"Thank you," Minho said with a smug smirk. "Now, care to talk?"

Seconds ticked by in which the man bit his lip to keep anything from spilling out. I sucked in a breath before jamming my index and middle fingers into his collarbone hard, causing another anguished yell to escape him.

"They pay us and we do what they ask!" he revealed in a shout.

"And you?" Minho pointed the weapon at the other man. "You wanna say something- save a toe or two?"

He held his hands up in surrender, fingers trembling in fear. "I swear on the life of my mom I don't know anything. But..." His face paled as the last part slipped out.

"But what?" Minho demanded impatiently. "Spill it— I know you're hiding something."

"Nothing."

"Do we really need to keep playing this game?" Minho moved forward and crouched so the barrel was pressed right up against the man's shoe. "I'm done counting."

"Stop!" he begged desperately, frightened eyes glued to where the gun was positioned against the sole of his foot. "Okay, listen. We could take a couple of you back with us to ask them yourselves. I don't know if they'll let you talk to the one in charge, but they might. I'm not getting my toe shot off for no good reason."

"All right, then." Minho stepped back, satisfied with the response he'd been given. He gestured for the guy to stand. "See, that wasn't so bad. Let's go visit this boss of yours. Me, you, and my friends."

Immediately, the room broke out in whispers. Those not included weren't pleased with being left behind, locked up here any longer. Minho stood and dusted himself off, flicking the safety back on the gun. I followed suit in his action. My left hand rubbed my thumb, which was slightly jammed. I'd accidentally kept it too rigid when I'd hit the man's collarbone.  I didn't know if feeling no remorse at my actions was bad or not- he'd recover in a matter of minutes, and it was what had to be done.

As Brenda set down the Launcher and the rest of us circled up, Garret made himself present for the first time in a while. I couldn't remember if he'd joined in on the attempted escape fight. If he had, I hadn't seen him. Maybe, despite the fact that he was more than capable of handling himself, he still didn't like violence.

The woman stood up so quickly that everyone went quiet and faced her. "You people are a lot safer here! Just trust me on that one. If all of us try to make it where we need to go, I can guarantee half wouldn't get there. If these guys want to see the boss, then let them risk their necks. A gun and a Launcher aren't going to do a bit of good out there. But in here we have a locked door and no windows."

Another chorus of complaints filled the room despite her attempt at making peace. She sighed and turned to us, dropping her voice. "Listen, it's dangerous out there. I wouldn't take more than a couple of people. The more you have, the more likely you'll be seen." She scanned the room. "and I'd go soon if I were you. From the looks of it, these people are only going to get antsier. Pretty soon there'll be no way to hold them off. And out there..."

The woman pursed her lips together tightly. "There are Cranks everywhere. They're killing anything that moves."

gif is thomas when the kidnappers come in

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hey guys i'm at page 214 lol rip

questions:

-do you think dylan would have been able to shoot the captors in order to get them to talk (not fatally, but something like minho did) if she'd thought of the idea? this would be instead of using the pressure points.

-do you like when dylan uses her martial arts skills against people or when she's a little softer?

-what is (or was) your favorite brotp of this book?

-what did you think of the death cure trailer?

i hope you enjoyed this chapter! i can't believe i'm already beginning to wind things down a bit. it's a scary yet exciting thing to think about!

-kristyn