Chapter 26

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Newt stared down at the body below him. The Gladers were gathered around it and most were too shocked to speak. Alec, a builder, was found dead in the morning.

Jeff rubbed his chin. "I-I have no idea how he was killed. I mean," he shook his head and kneeled next to his body. "There's no sign of struggle, no blue lips, no blood, nothing."

"So you're saying he just up and died?" Newt raised his eyebrow and put his hands on his hips.

Jeff nodded and stood. "I don't see how he died."

"Starvation?" one suggested.

"I ate lunch with him yesterday," another piped in.

"Heart attack?"

"He's 14, Tyler."

The boys stood in silence around him. No one spoke. Newt rested against the wall of the Homestead to give his leg a break. Alec was found dead in his hammock, with no cause of death. Newt almost suffocated with nothing blocking his air, and Isabelle was taken from him. Something bigger was going on here.

The only answer had to be the Creators. They were messing with them, taunting them, killing them. And that wasn't fair. Newt vowed to find who was behind this all and make them suffer as they all did.

"I'll get the Baggers," Tyler muttered.

***

Ava opened the door to Isabelle's room. She put her hands behind her back and walked in, making no attempt to show she was there except for the echoing clicking of her heels.

Isabelle still had her head in her hands and her back was shaking with her sobs.

"You did the right thing. You obeyed me."

"The right thing?" Isabelle spat. She looked up to Ava. "You made me kill him!" Isabelle looked to the ground. "Why would you make me kill him?" she whispered.

"It was a test of your obedience. Now I know you're capable." Ava put a hand on Isabelle's shoulder.

Isabelle jerked backwards as if she'd been shocked. Ava's hand fell to her side. "I didn't obey you. You forced me to kill an innocent boy! You're disgusting!" Isabelle stood with her back to Ava.

"Listen," Ava murmured and stood next to Isabelle. "Whether I forced you to do that or not, it's still your hand that killed him. Now you can live with that, or you can let it destroy you. But it's who you are now. And it's important you know who you are. Because now, you are WICKED."

Ava left the room then, and shut the door with nothing but her burning words and her clicking heels as signs that she was ever there. Isabelle stood motionless with tears streaming down her eyes.

Maybe she didn't know who her parents were or where she came from, but she did know one thing for certain.

She would never be a part of WICKED.

***

Isabelle was needed by someone a couple hours after that. She didn't bother composing herself and left the room with her hair disheveled and puffy eyes.

She apparently was needed in the Training room. Who she saw there wasn't what she was expecting.

It was Mr. Larsen, the same man who let her and Newt out on their last day at WICKED.

He gave a giant smile when he saw her but she remained stone faced and miserable. His smile dropped to the ground and he nodded.

"Isabelle, I need you to set up the new recruits! They arrived today." Mr. Larsen clapped his hands together and grinned.

"Recruits?" Isabelle stuttered. "L-Like more people to be sent up in the Maze?"

Mr. Larsen slowly nodded with a scrunched up nose. "Kind of. They're for testing down here first."

Isabelle sighed. What could she do? She nodded and Mr. Larsen opened the steel door. Boys of all ages and heights were ushered into the room. Isabelle wanted to sob, knowing they were headed for the same fate as she was. To be tested for who knew how many years by WICKED. To be used and thrown away.

"Come with me," Isabelle said shakily.

They followed her into a room with dozens of bunk beds and a couple bathrooms. This is where they'd live. Isabelle had to explain the rules of WICKED and what to do if they didn't want to be killed. The boys all listened closely, believing her words as the truth because of her miserable state. They came to know that this was no vacation, and they would probably be as unhappy as Isabelle.

Once the boys started to get settled into their beds, a boy around 15 walked up to Isabelle. He had light brown hair and freckles across his face. He looked so young and Isabelle couldn't help but want to protect him.

"I'm Aris," he said shakily. "Why are we here?"

Isabelle sighed and looked to him with a sad expression. "I'm not sure that I even know that."

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