T R U S T [The Maze Runner || Newt || Book 2]

Chapter 17

"Chair!" Jorge yelled and Minho quickly rushed to pick one up and toss it at him. He threw Marcus down into the chair, pointing his pistol at him.

"Kid, get that rope for me." He called to Frypan, nodding at a piece of rope hanging from the ceiling. Frypan nodded and ripped it down, tossing it to Jorge who proceeded to wrap it around Marcus, tying him to the chair. When he was finished he took a step back, putting his pistol back into his holster before crossing his arms over his chest.

"Nice to see you again, Jorge. You should visit me more often." Marcus mumbled, clearly still high on bliss.

"This isn't a social event, hermano, you're gonna tell me how to get to the right arm."

"No, I don't think I will, old friend."

"I'm not playing around Marcus. Tell me."

Marcus didn't answer him this time, his eyes darted around the room as he began to hum to himself.

"What the hell is wrong with this shank?" Minho whispered to Clara,

"He's on bliss. It's a drug, slows down the Flare." She responded, but instead of saying something more Minho stood up and walked over to Thomas, who'd just woken up.

"Welcome back, you ugly shank." She heard Minho say and chuckled to herself, turning back to Jorge, who was quickly losing his temper.

"Talk, you son of a bitch!" Jorge shouted, swinging his fist into Marcus's face.

"I'm sorry you are going to have to leave my house." The other man slurred out,

"Listen, I don't enjoy hurting you. Okay? Where is the right arm, Marcus?"

"Wait, this is Marcus?" Clara heard Thomas asking,

"Kid catches on quick." Marcus mumbled, snickering to himself and turning his head to look at Thomas, "Are you the brains of the operation?"

Jorge stepped toward Marcus, grabbing a handful of the man's hair and tilting his head upwards,

"I know you know where they're hiding. So you tell me, and I'll make you a deal. You can come with us."

"I burned that bridge a long time ago. Besides, I made my own deal. You're the one who taught me; never miss an opportunity." Marcus giggled, his blood-stained teeth on full display

"What's he talking about?" Newt asked,

"I'm talking about supply and demand. Wicked wants all the immunes they can get. I help provide that for them. I lure the kids in, they get drunk, they have a good time, and then later, Wicked comes in. They separate the munies from the... others." He trailed off, laughing again.

"I changed my mind hermano, I do enjoy hurting you." Jorge spat before kicking Marcus in the chest, knocking the chair over and sending Marcus down with it. He pulled the pistol out again and crouched over him, pressing it against his forehead, "TALK!"

"Okay, okay! Jesus! But I'm not making any promises. These guys like to move around."

Jorge pulled the chair back up again so that Marcus could continue,

"They have an outpost, in the mountains. But It's a long way away. You've got half of Wicked on your ass, you're never gonna make it."

"Not on foot." Jorge said, a smile growing on his face. He leaned down, placing his hands on Marcus's chest, "Where's Bertha?"

"Not Bertha." Marcus pleaded, his lips quivering.

"Oh yes, Bertha."

"Bertha is a car?"