GladerWolf 2 (Newt X Female!Reader)

A Day-Club

Once we were all back on our feet, one of Jorge's men approached us with a loaded gun, his rotted teeth twisted into a grin.

"We don't want any trouble," Thomas said, steadying his palms in front of him. "We just- we gotta get out of here."

"Is that so?" The man asked, before grabbing a walkie-talkie from his belt and pressing a button. His gun was still trained on us, sliding back and forth between each of us. "Janson, I got 'em for ya. I'm bringin' 'em down. Don't shoot us." He put the talkie back and ordered us to move in front of him.
The boys and I tried to wrestle the gun from him and it fired above us. I stepped back to cover my ears from the sound. "You little bastards!" the man shouted, preparing his gun to fire again. We heard another gunshot and I covered my ears once more. They rang with the pain of the enhanced volume. Thomas placed his hand to his chest, checking for blood. As the man dropped to his knees, gasping for breath, we saw Brenda behind him, keeping her gun trained on him as he fell, just in case.

"Come on," she said to us. We all looked at one another, hesitating. How did we know we could trust her? "Come on, let's go!" She ordered as she ran out of the room.

~

As we ran through the building, we heard slow, jazz-like music blare from the speakers. "We don't have much time!" Jorge said as Brenda led us to him, a large bag strung from his back. "Let's go, this way!"

He pushed two murky glass doors open to reveal a drop, and a zipline. Warm, suffocating air gusted into the room.
"You've got to be kidding me," Frypan said.

"You kids wanna get to the Right Arm? I'll lead you to them, but you're gonna owe me." Jorge pulled a strap from the roof and swung from our building to the next. That was going to make us visible from the Berg.

As I descended, after Newt, I found myself exhilarated -- for a moment. Using a zipline was quite fun. If we weren't being chased by WCKD, I might have even enjoyed it.

We followed Jorge through a maze of buildings and into a bunker. Thomas and Brenda hadn't followed. "I hope they're all right," I said to Newt.

"It's Tommy," he said, "they'll be fine."

"She's probably taken him through the tunnels -- we'll meet them on the other side," Jorge assured. "Let's go!" I could have sworn that the tunnels beneath the building was how we'd entered the building. That was where they kept the Cranks...

~

When we got outside, the sun had already begun to rise. How long had we been travelling for?

Jorge assured us that Brenda would know to follow us to Marcus. Our questions on who Marcus was were met with blunt responses. "An old friend -- sort of."

We entered a street packed either side by unusable vehicles covered in torn bedsheets and other makeshift tarpaulins. The street was bustling with life, even at this hour: actual people milling about their day. "This is what we've missed," I said to Newt as he slipped his hand into mine. How many years had gone by? What would we be doing now if WCKD hadn't taken us as their test subjects? These people seemed relatively... normal, given the circumstances. There was a mother pulling her two children behind her; both with clothes so ragged and ill-matched that they may as well have been from the nearest thrift shop -- or stolen off a body that didn't need them.
A man was wandering aimlessly until his friend noticed him and pulled him aside. "Hey, you all right? Sit down, man, or it'll get worse." No doubt a recent victim of the virus.

Everyone here was just trying to survive from the harsh changes the world had thrust upon them. Stolen clothes were no crime by comparison to what these people faced: danger of illness or death loomed as each day passed. The world's population was still dropping. And yet -- "we're gonna get through this, ___," Newt said to me -- there was still hope.

We came to a street corner and loud music thudded in my head. Before the Maze, I had been too young to go to a nightclub, but even without detailed memories of my past, I had an idea of what they were like. The thudding sound grew louder in my head as we followed Jorge past young women who were scarcely dressed and swaying with the music, and boys who were getting quite close to them. Their eyes looked as dead as their sickly complexions, as though there wasn't a thought behind them. Faelan stood protectively beside Newt and me, eyeing them suspiciously.

"What's up, hermano?" Jorge asked one of the people near the club's entrance.

No, please don't tell me we're going in there, I thought. Newt sensed my apprehension and his grip tightened on my hand. He gave me a comforting smile.

"Jorge, how's it going?" A beige-skinned man with wide eyes and pimpish clothing asked, opening his arms as he stepped toward us. I could smell the stench of alcohol on his breath.

"We're gonna need to get inside, Marcus," Jorge responded. "I've got some friends I'm waiting for."

"Well, step right up," the man replied with a weird smile, revealing his brownish teeth. His voice was strange; leering, almost. I harboured an instant mistrust toward him. Jorge stepped past him. I could tell that even he was trying not to get too close. "How will I be able to determine these 'friends' of yours?" Marcus asked as Jorge stepped toward the moth-eaten curtain.

He looked over his shoulder. "You'll know."

~

The music was so much louder inside. The lighting was bland. The curtains that covered the windows were casting dust particles into the building. If the furniture ever looked stylish, it was far beyond that point now. A girl was sitting on one of the deflated armchairs, staring at the ceiling as if it were the most amazing thing she'd ever seen. I followed her gaze: a crack lined the wall like a spider's web. Perhaps she was hallucinating something more interesting?

The small string lights hung on the wall were the only pretty thing in Marcus' day-club. Girls passed us with flirtatious smiles, some wearing sunglasses indoors. "Don't accept any offers, don't drink anything," Jorge said to us as we moved past people.

The rotten scent of decay hit the back of my throat. Newt and I looked at one another. "I know," Faelan said in wolfspeak as he walked behind us. "Don't look right."
We did just that, only to see a Crank chained to the wall: a circle of people laughing and cheering a man on as he taunted him.

"That's shucked," Newt said.

"I just told you not to look," Faelan replied.

Eyes forward from now. We'd keep following Jorge. Hopefully, Thomas and Brenda would arrive before long. I did not want to stay here a minute longer.