Wicked Heart [The Maze Runner]

Chapter Four

Clangs, boops and beeps, shrieks, and unclear, hurried voices combined together to create a laboratory ambiance within her head.

Instantaneous memories—hallucinations, almost—bombarded her vision. They were ultimately confusing to follow. Second after second they flashed from one memory to the next, creating the inability to reference and capture what was going on, what they were memories of and who with. Objects and persons were shifting blurs, smudging colors together and warping weird pictures in her head.

One memory stayed consistent, as if on replay on a scratched disk.

Dirty-blonde.

The blurred figure kept slowly coming forward.

White coat.

So little of her face could be seen with the flashing images shooting before her. Stuttered syllables fidgeted out of her mouth, and it was difficult to understand what she was trying to say. The language was all unclear. Yet she managed to appear reassuring.

Unexpectedly, the words came coherent in a monotone voice.

"WICKED is good."

The haunting vision vanished. Then, more countless, random memories flooded the girl's mind.

Walking down a sidewalk.

Sitting in front of birthday cake.

In a classroom.

Spinning in a dress.

On a roller coaster.

Being hurried out of a house.

Fire.

Scraping a foot.

Hiking through snow.

Feet echoing on metallic floor.

Holding someone's hand.

Walking into a white world.

All of a sudden, the woman from before's face appeared up close—but it was still blurry for any features to be recognized.

She was saying something again. Only a faint "mmm" could be heard, then she was mouthing what looked to be "ow". Her hollow words slowly converted into speaking. The voice rang louder in the girl's head before the definite message was sent.

"Mal."

It set off a chain, echoing louder, then softer, then louder once again until the girl responded by whispering the name in her sleep.

__________

When Mal woke up, the rest of the Gladers remained asleep. The sky just began breaking from the darkness and had a dark blue color to it. It had to be five-something.

She sat up from the ground and immediately felt highly disappointed. It hadn't been a dream.

Mal shuffled to the gate and tried pulling on the bars, careful that no one would hear her—it wouldn't be nice to get caught in an almost-prison break. The gaps between the bars were big enough to squeeze her small hands through, so she extended her arm and maneuvered it in all directions, in an effort to find the latch that could open the gate and let her out.

Well, she couldn't reach the latch. But remembering that the bars were made of sticks and straw, she just decided to break her way out. Quietly, she succeeded in tearing one bar in half. From there, she was able to rip other bars, and she stopped once there was a big enough opening for her body to slither out. Proud of her work, she drew a sly smile on her face.