The Fight That Haunted Me: The Second Book of Love at First Fight

Who's Jorge?

(Y/n)'s POV
 

The next two days we spent walking from dawn until dusk. It was exhausting, and I found myself having trouble sleeping the full night. The night had just come when Thomas began to wake the group as we woke he pointed out the lights coming from the mountain, and we all felt hope that we would live past the small rations that we didn't have much left of. "We made it," Newt mumbled before a lightning strike came down behind us, and from the looks of the sky that wouldn't be the last one.

We began running towards the safety of the lights, we were encouraged by the lightning touching down behind us. I felt immediate relief when my feet hit the concrete out in front of the building where the lights were coming from. But something I've learned since getting out of the maze, every time you feel relief or hope something will come along. Minho was struck by lightning just a few feet away from me, and although my ears were ringing I ran to his side. 

Thomas was with me in an instant and we pulled him inside to the safety of the building. "Minho!" "Hey, Minho wake up!" he laid there a minute with no response which caused fear to surge through all of us. Please for the love of everything good don't be dead I thought to myself before he began to groan in pain signaling he was alive. "What happened?" Minho asked still in a haze from being hit "you got struck by lightning," Thomas informed him causing Minho to nearly smile at the situation. "Oh," was his only response before we gently pulled him to his feet.

"I thought I said that no one else was allowed to die," I tell Minho steadying him on his feet his arm still slung over my shoulder. He smirks "that's why I'm not dead (y/n), couldn't stand for you to be mad at me again," he says with a wink and I roll my eyes. "What's that smell," Teresa comments her eyes drifting around the darkroom for a source. When she shined her flashlight in front of her a crank on a leash came surging forward towards her only half back by a chain. 

We all crowded away in fear Minho's grip on my shoulder tightened pulling me closer to him, and although I was appreciative of the gesture it felt wrong. As more Cranks surged forwards also being held back by chains he was basically holding me in a protective way with both arms wrapped around me. I wanted to shrug him off but there wasn't much place for him to go, but this reminded me of how Gally held me. This isn't how I wanted Minho to hold me and I felt guilty for that, Gally was dead and Minho was sweet. I knew that I would never be okay with this though the only guy I wanted to hold me like this was Gally.

Looking around the room there had to be at least two dozen cranks with chains around then in the room, and it was unsettling to see. "I see you've met our guard dogs," I female voice said drawing our attention away from the cranks and instead to a small doorway. The short-haired girl walked through the cranks as if it was a normal thing, all of them reaching out to her but she was just out of reach. It was unsettling to see, and when she stopped in front of us she looked at our small group up and down trying to size us up. 

"You guys look like shit," she tells us eyes settling on Thomas when she says it, and I stare at her bewildered. This girl was crazy, of course, we looked like shit. She would to if she'd been through what we had, and I almost opened my mouth to say so but decided to keep it shut. "Come on follow me," she told us slightly turning, yet when we didn't move she added "unless you want to stay here with them," we all exchanged quick glances before finialing in line behind he careful to stay out of the cranks grasp. Minho and Fry were carful to protect me from the cranks even though they could reach me. 

She lead us through a series of doors before we found ourselves in the midst of huge room that had tarps and different things set up for people to live in. When people began to crowd us the girl called out "come on keep up Jorge wants to meet you," and then we begin to climb up the stairs "who's Jorge," Thomas asks. Although I trust Thomas I sometimes didn't understand the questions he asked, because whoever he was, he was the leader. 

I didn't feel confident about the situation, and tried to look around and scout out exits, but with the crowd around us I couldn't get the best look. I just hope Thomas knows what he's doing.