GladerWolf 2 (Newt X Female!Reader)

Civilisation

We followed the woman through the building. It was lit only by fires and low-strung light bulbs, as well as the occasional flashes of lightning from the smashed windows. I could smell lots of people - and dirt. It was heavily populated and heavily guarded, despite the broken windows. It was a wonder whether or not we were safe. "Jorge wants to meet you," the mysterious woman said.

"Who's Jorge?" I asked.

"You'll see," she responded. "No one's come out of the scorch in a long time - you've just got him curious. And me, too." Her voice was more strange than her demeanour; somewhat lulling. She seemed too calm for a person in this situation, especially since she didn't know who we were. It wasn't smart to walk with your back to a group of strangers. We looked behind us to see that a crowd of people were following: all with grimy faces and sweat-scented clothes. I guessed that she was covered.

"I'm startin' to get a bad feeling about this place," Newt said.

"You and me both," Faelan agreed.

"Let's just hear him out," Thomas said to them, before we made our way up a metal staircase.

"Jorge, they're here," the woman said.

He gently shushed her. He was sitting at a table listening to what sounded like a radio. There was still radio after the world had been turned to sand?

He huffed and pulled a cable from the machine. Apparently not. Lightning flashed from the window ahead of him. He stood and turned to us, huffing again as he placed his hands on his hips. "D'you ever get the feeling the whole world's against you?" We shared confused looks: how were we supposed to respond to that? "Three questions: where did you come from?" He picked up a decanter of water and a glass from a table closer to us. "Where are you going; how can I profit?"

Ah, a businessman.

He looked at each one of us. "Don't all answer at once."

"We're headed for the mountains," Thomas responded. "We're looking for the Right Arm." Chuckles arose from Jorge's men around us.

"You're looking for ghosts, you mean," Jorge corrected. "Question number two: where did you come from?"

"That's our business," Minho said before anyone else could respond. It was just as well: we didn't know these people. For all we knew, they could just sell us back to WCKD. 

Jorge shrugged, and before I could blink, the guys behind us grabbed Thomas and Minho by the shoulders. The strange woman approached us and grabbed something that looked like a gun from the table.

"You'd better not!" I shouted.

She rolled her eyes at me, before moving over to Thomas. "Hey! Get the hell off me!"

"Shut up, you big baby," she said calmly, before using the gun to scan something on the back of his neck.

"What is that!?"

She looked into the gun's screen and up at Jorge. I tried to look over Minho's shoulders to see what it was, but it was too small. "You were right," she said to him. He took it from her, pulled on some glasses and smirked.

"Right about what?" I asked. He looked at the screen.

"I'm sorry, hermano. Looks like you're tagged." His brown eyes grew dark. "You came from WCKD. Which means you're very... valuable."

~

We were dragged through the rooms of the dim-lit building: higher and higher up metal stairs we went until I started thinking that they were going to present us to a WCKD Berg waiting on the roof. I don't know how I felt about being wrong, because we'd turned a corner and were shoved into a room lit only by the fading blue light from outside. The storm was getting quieter as it moved farther away.

One by one, Jorge's men pushed us forward and bound us by the ankles with long rope. I couldn't see where it was attached to, but when Minho was thrown into what looked like an abyss, I realised that these people had a very unique way of treating their prisoners. In front of us, suspended from the ceiling high above and hovering over what appeared to be, at the very least, a 60ft drop, was Minho hanging uselessly from his ankles, his arms flailing past his head. And soon, we'd all follow.

"Great plan, Thomas," Minho said. It had been about five minutes of us trying to swing around to grab the ropes above us. All of our attempts had been in vain. "'Just hear what the man has to say'," Minho mocked. "Really workin' out for us."

"Shut up, Minho," Thomas whispered.

"I really don't feel well," Newt said.

"Why don't you try transforming?" Frypan suggested.

"Because if he falls, then what?" I asked. "Wait, shh -- I hear footsteps."

"Enjoying the view?" Jorge asked as he entered the room. We said nothing. "My men want to sell you back to WCKD. I'm not like that, something tells me that you're not either."

"Is it the blood rushing to my head, or is this shank not makin' any sense?" Minho asked.

"Both," Faelan said.

"Tell me what you know about the Right Arm."

"I thought you said they were ghosts," Newt said.

"I happen to believe in ghosts." He walked around to a lever attached to a pulley system. We were completely in his hands now.

"Okay, no one say anything stupid," I recommended.

Jorge chuckled. "You tell me what you know, and maybe we can make a deal."

"We don't know much," Thomas said. But it had been the wrong answer. For one second, Jorge pulled the lever: forward and back, and we dropped down by a foot. The feeling was gut-wrenching. I thought that was the end for a second. I looked down. There was something so illusive about the abyss below us. We were so many floors up, but I still felt closer and closer to the ground as the seconds passed. My ears started ringing, and I couldn't hear any talking. All I could hear was the familiar language of wolf-speak. It wasn't even saying anything comprehensible: just a few random words. Was I in a trance? Did we just get dropped down again? I couldn't tell anymore. I couldn't feel my own body. What's... what's happening..?

I heard someone call my name. "You need to stay awake, all right, love?" Newt said. The words had been muffled, but consciousness slowly returned to me.

"I don't..." I couldn't even process a thought to speak.

"I know, but you need to stay conscious. We don't know what's gonna happen next."

Jorge had gone, and Minho was trying to push Teresa to the lever. I felt a jolt as she pulled it the wrong way. Again, we dropped. But Teresa had a grip on the pulley. We had a way out.

Was that pounding footsteps I could hear? Or the chopping turbines of a Berg?

Teresa scrambled to untie herself and reached over to pull Thomas. That was when I heard distant screaming, and the muffled sound over a megaphone: the cold voice of Janson. "You are surrounded," I heard him say. "Every single one of you will die." I couldn't make out much else, but those words filled me with panic.

Author's Note

From here, the rest of the book isn't complete, so it will be some time before I'm able to publish any more. I will add to it so I thank you for your patience and thank you for reading this far!