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"
Just
come
over
to
the
Slammer
with
me
.
You
and
Newt
.
"
Minho
thought
for
a
second
.
"
Newt
!
"
he
called
out
.
"
Yeah
?
"
Newt
stood
up
,
refolding
his
bloody
rag
to
find
a
clean
spot
.
Thomas
could
n't
help
noticing
that
every
inch
was
drenched
in
red
.
Minho
pointed
down
at
Alby
.
"
Let
the
Med-jacks
take
care
of
him
.
We
need
to
talk
.
"
Newt
gave
him
a
questioning
look
,
then
handed
the
rag
to
the
closest
Glader
.
"
Go
find
Clint
--
tell
him
we
got
worse
problems
than
guys
with
buggin
'
splinters
.
"
When
the
kid
ran
off
to
do
as
he
was
told
,
Newt
stepped
away
from
Alby
.
"
Talk
about
what
?
"
Minho
nodded
at
Thomas
,
but
did
n't
say
anything
.
"
Just
come
with
me
,
"
Thomas
said
.
Then
he
turned
and
headed
for
the
Slammer
without
waiting
for
a
response
.
"
Let
her
out
.
"
Thomas
stood
by
the
cell
door
,
arms
folded
.
"
Let
her
out
,
and
then
we
'll
talk
.
Trust
me
--
you
wan
na
hear
it
.
"
Newt
was
covered
in
soot
and
dirt
,
his
hair
matted
with
sweat
.
He
certainly
did
n't
seem
to
be
in
a
very
good
mood
.
"
Tommy
,
this
is
--
"
