Wicked Heart [The Maze Runner]

Chapter Six

Early the next morning, people were out and about, and the Runners had just left for their Maze travels. Mal was casually eating breakfast—fluffy pancakes and holy bacon sent from the gods—when an alarm blared throughout the Glade.

No one showed immediate reaction, no one flinched from the noise or looked surprised or was bouncing with anticipation . . . except for Mal.

Alby leisurely waltzed past Mal, going in the direction toward the center of the Glade, along with Nick and Gally and a few others. Mal stood up. "Alby! What's--"

"Just the Box. Supplies comin'!"

Mal quickly finished her food and followed along.

Everyone stood circling around the Box, except for Nick and Alby. When they reached the crowd, they pushed themselves in front. In a few minutes a muffled boom sounded, indicating that the bizarre elevator had arrived. Mal watched Nick and Alby as they took positions on opposite sides of the shaft doors—a line split the metal square right down the middle. Simple hook-handles were attached on both sides, and together they yanked them apart. With a metallic scrape the doors were opened, and a puff of dust from the surrounding stone rose into the air. Mal squeezed in between bodies to take a look at what was down below.

There were just packaged boxes, crates of food, and carrying cases that each held an animal. One by one, people retrieved their items.

"Hey, Mal. Looks like the Creators decided to be generous and send ya some stuff. Got one box full," Nick perked up. He placed a large box at her feet then, and suddenly Mal felt odd tingles in her chest. Nick wasn't lying, it had been personalized. On the top, somebody had written her name in big letters with a black marker. But that wasn't all. The same phrase had been stamped all over the cardboard like copyright: Property of WICKED.

WICKED? What the heck was WICKED?

Mal fell to her knees and tore it open. Inside there was a whole bunch of stuff, and she made count of them as she made her way to the bottom. Four jeans and two shorts, four shirts, undergarments, three pairs of socks, two pajamas. A hair brush, some hair ties, hygiene products. A pair of boots, extra sneakers, and right at the bottom of it all . . . a creepy ass doll.

The doll was old, used, and was fully made of fragile material that it looked like it could easily fall apart. The doll was of a little girl. The dress was made out of cloth, the hair from yarn, the eyes buttons and the mouth stitched into a smile. Mal felt sick and utterly confused and creeped out. "Dafuq? What the hell is this?"

She reached inside to pick it the thing up. As soon as she gripped it in her hand, an odd freezing rush came over her body.

"No! Daddy, I'm scared!"

"It's all going to be okay, sweetheart," the man assured the little girl. He knelt down to her height and took out something he kept hidden from his back. He put it in the girl's hands. "If you are ever scared, hold this tight to your chest and I will be with you."

The girl looked at the pretty doll with saddened eyes. It was his final gift to her. "But—"

The man brushed the girl's hair behind her ears. He had tears pricking in the corners of his eyes. "Never worry, my love. You're going to do wonderful things. No matter what happens, I will always be by your side. I promise." He laid out his pinkie.

"Pinkie promise," the girl said, and she locked her pinkie with his and he smiled. This was the last time they would see each other, and the last time he would be sane.

Reality came to her vision like a shockwave.

Mal looked back down at the doll, swallowing hard. She carefully laid it back down in the box, collected all her things and stuffed them inside. She set them down in her room in the Homestead. She changed into a fresh outfit and prepared herself for the day. Today she would serve as a Builder. She tied her hair into a tight ponytail and hurried to where the Builders were stationed.