We wait in the dark for what feels like hours, however I know it must have only been a few minutes. Everyone's panting and wheezing, or crying, or both. My chest feels heavy with the realisation of sudden death. All those boys... all those dead bodies, at the bottom of those pits, or lying on the cold Maze floor, Grievers swarming over their lifeless bodies... the thought sickens me.
I hear a door creak open to my left. Whipping my head around, I can see a slither of light where the door inches open. I see dark, ghost-like faces around me, before realising that those are the faces of my friends.
Everyone moves forward, slowly, to where the door is. No one appears to be opening it, standing on the other side, waiting for us. I'm the first to push the door open timidly.
Stepping out into a large corridor, everyone glances around, silently taking in everything we see. Spluttering pipes cover both walls on either side of us, gathering dust. The corridor is long and wide, with a few dim, flickering lights above our heads.
Suddenly, bright yellow lights fill my vision. I wince as my eyes adjust to the brightness. It reminds me of when I first woke up in the Box, bewildered and alarmed, much like how I'm feeling now.
No one talks at we walk along the corridor – me limping, still in pain, my arm slung over Newt's shoulder for support, his arm gripping onto my waist in a protective hold. The pain has become bearable enough. Either that, or I just haven't noticed it anymore with everything that's been going on.
We come up to a large silver door, with two lights at the side of it. One green, one red. The green one is lit up, indicating that the door is open. Above the door, a sign reads 'exit'.
"Seriously?" Frypan asks incredulously. I must admit, it does all seem rather easy – too easy. The irony of the situation forces a weak, bitter smile to appear briefly on my lips, shaking my head in anger. Thomas exchanges a worried glance with me before reaching for the door handle, and pushing the door open. Everyone holds their breath, expecting the worst to be behind that door.
The door is fully open. Another corridor is on the other side, but this one's different. Quiet alarms are ringing, dead bodies are slumped against the wall. The bodies all have white lab coats on. A shiver runs down my spine as I remember my dreams. The scientists.
Broken shards of glass scatter the floor, and the lights keep fading on and off eerily. We edge closer to the end of the corridor, where a room waits for us, door wide open. I gasp as I take in everything in the room. In the middle is a large table, with a vast electric hologram in the centre. More bodies lie on the floor, puddles of blood staining the sleek white floor. The walls are covered in more screens, some showing blueprints, others showing images of brains. Then, I see one screen which grabs my attention. The Glade.
Newt sees it too. His mouth is open slightly as he walks towards it, his expression filled with immense sadness.
"So they were watching us," he sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "This whole time. While we – while we watched our friends die... they were watching it happen. Like... entertainment."
He hisses that last word, gritting his teeth together. I feel guilt seeping through my body, filling my chest and making my mind heavy. I watched them. I watched them while they suffered, fought for their lives every single day. And I could've done something about that, surely?
Newt notices my head sinking, my hands shaking. He moves closer to me, grabbing both of my shoulders, looking into my eyes intensely.
"I don't blame you, (y/n), none of us do," he says in a low voice, reading my mind. "This wasn't your fault."
"How do you know that?" I argue, pulling away from him. But he just pulls me back.
"Because I know who you are. You're a good, kind person, and I trust that you wouldn't deliberately make us suffer, not for anything. Do you hear me?"
I don't meet with his eyes.
"(y/n)... do you hear me? You're a good person."
Newt lifts his hand up to my chin, gently forcing my head upwards so I'm looking into his eyes. He nods slightly, and I nod back gingerly. We hold eye contact for a few seconds, but those seconds feel like the longest seconds of my life. Newt's eyes flicker from my eyes towards my lips. The fluttering in my chest has transformed into an intense pounding.
I must be imagining it, the soft, tender, lustful glimmer in his brown eyes. I'm suddenly very aware of the other boys around us and I break eye contact hastily, rubbing his hands with my own shaking hands in an awkward, fumbling embarrassment.
"Hello," a loud voice echoes around the room. Me and Newt break apart, jumping slightly. A hologram in the centre table is lit up, with a woman's face enlarged on it. She has blonde hair and a white, formal suit on, and she's sitting in some kind of glass containment. People bustle around her, the scientists. Everyone edges closer to the projection, eyes wide. This is like nothing we've seen before, that we can remember.
"My name is doctor Ava Paige," the woman continues. Her voice... it sounds familiar... "I'm director of operations of the World In Catastrophe Killzone Experiment Department."
WICKED.
"If you're watching this, then it means that you've successfully completed the Maze Trials. Well done. I wish I could be there in person to congratulate you, however... circumstances seem to have prevented it.
"I'm sure, by now, you must all be very confused. Angry. Frightened. But I can only assure you that everything that's happened to you... everything we've done to you, it was all done for a reason. You won't remember, but the sun has scorched our world. Billions of lives lost to fire. Famine and suffering on a global scale. But the fallout was inconceivable. We called it the Flare. A deadly virus that attacks the brain. Violent and unpredictable. Incurable... or so we thought.
"In time, a new generation emerged that could somehow survive the virus. And that gave us a reason to hope for a cure... but finding it would not be easy. The young would have to be tested, even sacrificed, inside harsh environments, where their brain activity could be monitored and studied. This is all in an effort to understand what makes them different. What makes you different."
Pain suddenly shoots from my knee unexpectedly, but I try to ignore it. I instead focus on the woman's words.
"Unfortunately your trials have only just begun. As you'll no doubt soon discover, not everyone agrees with our methods. Progress is slow. People are scared. It may be too late for us... for me." Her voice is filled with a heavy sadness; however it is also laced with acceptance and hope as she says, "but not for you. The outside world awaits," she draws a gun to her head. I flinch, eyes wide, unblinking. "Remember – WICKED is good."
I hear a gun shot ring through the air as I press my face against Newt's shoulder, squeezing my eyes shut, gripping onto his arm. His body sways, shocked, before slowly putting his arm around my back, holding me close. No one talks.
I open my eyes, see the faces around me. Haunted. Harrowed. I see Chuck's eyes swimming in tears, overwhelmed, his cheeks wet and nose runny. I pull away from Newt's gentle grasp and walk over to Chuck, a boy who is like a little brother to me. He sniffles as I hug him, us both crying, feeling crushed under all of the information thrown at us.
Then, I feel someone else throw their arms around me. Thomas. Then someone else, Newt. Minho. Frypan. And everyone else, until it's a huddle of emotional teenagers, holding each other in a close embrace.
When we pull away, everyone's wiping their eyes, crying, but smiling. We are all broken, shattered individuals, but together have created one large family to seal the crushed pieces of our souls. Together, we can make each other stronger, allow each other to heal. I don't know who I was before the Maze – but that doesn't matter anymore, I know that now. I smile wider, realising that my own mystery is gradually being solved, each puzzle fitting in its own small space designed for it.
My thoughts are interrupted when I hear a door open to my right.
"Is it over?" Chuck asks.
"She said we were important," Newt murmurs. "What are we supposed to do now?"
Silence settles over the group, before Thomas clears his throat and says, "I don't know. But we should start by getting out of this goddamn place."
"Good that," Newt grins.
"What... what about WICKED?" I ask timidly. The boys look towards me expectantly. "She said they were trying to find a cure. That they were... good. Do we need to go to them? Or run further away?"
Tense silence settles in the air. I see some boys' brows furrow as they ponder.
"Let's run. If anyone from that psychotic WICKED group are even still alive, let's run as far away from them as we can," Minho asserts. The group collectively nods and begins t move towards the exit.
I take one step forward. Then, my breath catches in my throat as I hear a raspy, sinister voice choke out, "no."
I spin around, and there he is. Gally.