Monday, March 17, 2014

The Death Cure - Chapter 45


Thomas found Minho sitting with Brenda and Jorge when he returned, and Minho didn’t seem happy to
see him. He gave Thomas a nasty look. “So what did that shuck traitor have to say?”
Thomas sat down beside him. Several strangers had gathered closer, and he could tell they were
listening in.
“Well?” Minho pushed.
“She said that the reason they escaped was because they found out WICKED plans to start all over
again if they have to. That they were rounding up Immunes—just like Gally told us. She swears that
somehow they were led to believe that we’d already broken out—and that they looked for us.” Thomas
paused—he knew Minho wouldn’t like the next part. “And she’d help us if she can.”
Minho just shook his head. “You’re a slinthead. You shouldn’t have talked to her.”
“Thanks.” Thomas rubbed his face. Minho was right.
“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.”
Just then the door to the room opened and three of their captors walked in with big sacks stuffed full of
something. 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.
“How do we always get into these messes?” Minho asked. “At least we used to be able to blame
everything on WICKED.”
“Yeah, well, we still can,” Thomas murmured.
Minho grinned. “Good. Those shuck-faces.”
An uneasy silence settled on the room as the kidnappers moved around. People began to eat. Thomas
realized that they’d have to whisper if they wanted to keep talking.
Minho nudged Thomas. “Only one of them has a weapon,” he whispered. “And he doesn’t look so bad.
I bet I could take him.”
“Maybe,” Thomas answered under his breath. “But don’t do anything stupid—he’s got a gun as well as
a Launcher. And trust me, you don’t want to get shot by either.”
“Yeah, well, you trust me this time.” Minho gave Thomas a wink, to which Thomas could only sigh.
The odds were not good that what was about to happen would go unnoticed.
The kidnappers approached Thomas and Minho and stopped at their little group. Thomas 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. Thomas flinched as 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 before Thomas could react. 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 was
stomping 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. Thomas saw that Brenda had grabbed the Launcher.
“Stop!” she shouted, aiming the weapon at the kidnappers.
Minho stood up, and as he stepped away from the man on the ground, Thomas could see that the guy’s
face was covered in blood. People were already dragging the other three guards over to lie next to their
partner, lining them up so that all four were on their backs in a row.
It had all happened so fast, Thomas hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor, but he immediately got to
work.
“We have to get them to talk,” he said. “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
others shouted their agreement.
Thomas realized that the group had turned into a mob. If he wanted information he had to work fast—
before things fell apart. He stood and made his way over to the woman with the gun and convinced her to
hand it to him; then he turned and knelt beside the man who’d given him the bread.
Thomas put the gun to the guy’s temple. “I’m going to count to three. You either start telling what
WICKED plans to do with us and where you were going to meet them or I’ll pull the trigger. One.”
The man didn’t hesitate. “WICKED? We got nothing to do with WICKED.”
“You’re lying. Two.”
“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’s eyes flickered to his friends, but then he answered, looking straight at Thomas. “We work
for the Right Arm.”

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