Mara followed Paige through hall after hall, all the while-what Paige had called a Launcher- pressed into the small of her back. Everything was silent and empty. It was as if everyone had packed up and left only Mara, Paige and her bodyguards to the company.

"Where is everyone?"

"That is something you need not know." Paige replied, not bothering to turn and look at Mara. "Once you get where you need to be, there will be a piece of paper sitting on the table in front of you. When given the signal, you shall stand and read from the notes, saying only what it says. If anything else is said or done... you know the consequences. This sheet of paper will have directions, as well as speech, but no need to panic; it is simple to follow. Do you understand?"

Again, Mara rolled her eyes, "Yes, I still understand after five minutes of you asking the same bloody question."

Paige said nothing, she just kept walking, and Mara kept following her. What was she getting herself into? What were they going to make her do? She was going to read something, do something, and who knows what that was. Who was she even going to be talking to? The only people she would have to talk to were... the Gladers. They must be getting out.

She wanted to speak up, yet Mara said nothing. Every bone in her body stiffened at the thought of seeing her best friends again, but what did WICKED have in store for her? For them? Surely, what they were planning was going to be hell.

Mara bumped into the woman in front of her, who had stopped next to a door. Was that where she had to go? Paige gestured to the door and stepped backwards. 

"Through here," She said. "Tenth door to your right. Remember-"

"Yeah, yeah." Without a hesitation Mara reached out and pulled the door open, stepping into an identical hallway, and slamming it shut behind her. Once she was there, out of their reach, everything fell apart all at once.

Nothing could hold back Mara's overwhelming tears. Everything inside of her body felt twisted and wrong, and everything outside her body was sickening. She didn't know how she was holding herself together, but she had to last a little longer; Mara couldn't risk Newt and her other friends' lives just because she didn't feel like participating in WICKED's stupid plan. It was as if everything was just a game to them, and Mara hated it.

She pushed herself down the hallway, wiping her cheeks with her hand and counting the doors as she went. One, two, three, the tears got worse. Four, five, six, everything felt so wrong. Seven, eight, nine, Mara knew something bad was about to happen. Ten, she walked through the door.

The door slammed behind her and she leaned back against it. The room around her was tiny; a large black desk sat against the wall opposite her with a padded black chair facing a large tinted window. She was in one of the rooms she had seen when she arrived at WICKED's lab, one of the rooms their staff had been sitting in, staring at her. And just like Paige said, an A4 sized piece of paper sat in the centre of the desk.

Mara was hit with a wave of fear; did she... have to be one of them? Was that what they wanted? If the Gladers came through and saw her... they would all hate her. Every single one.

How could she do that? How could WICKED expect her to that? Even so, she had to, she couldn't let them kill her best friends. With ease, she would do whatever she could to save each of their lives. And that was why she sat at the desk.

Her brown eyes lay upon the sheet, reading what it said.

EVERYTHING BELOW THIS MUST BE READ ONCE THE LAST 'GLADER' FALLS THROUGH THE SLIDE.

She was right; the Gladers were coming. And as if on cue, a shriek rang through the air. Mara's head snapped upwards, towards the boy who was now sprawled out across the floor; Minho. Then, one by one, different boys joined him. At the beginning, she knew only Minho, but then came some she recognised, and then Newt, Chuck, Teresa and Thomas. No Alby, and much less bodies than she had been expecting. There were only twenty Gladers, out of forty.

Bodies scrambled everywhere in the room; people were on top of people, others were throwing up like Mara had, and then there was Newt. He was staring directly at Mara. But Mara couldn't do anything, she had to read from the sheet, the last Glader was there.

"Hello," Her voice cracked as she stood and drew in everyone's attention. Some gasped, some stared in awe, but her friends ran forward.

"Mara? You're here?"

"You work with these shuckfaces?"

"No, you can't. They're forcing you, I know it."

"Newt's right, this isn't her."

Mara closed her eyes and let out a sharp cry, before reopening them to see her friends staring back at her. After a few seconds, her eyes were drawn back to the sheet of paper. "Welcome back to what you know as WICKED; World In Catastrophe; Killzone Experiment Department. I'm sorry I betrayed you, but I did what I needed to-"

"This isn't you, M!" Newt yelled, banging both of his fists against the glass with a thud. Mara looked away, she couldn't bare to see his face as she spoke. She held a finger to her lips, and Newt immediately silenced himself.

"As I was saying, I did what I needed to do for our world. Everything has gone according to plan, and I am... glad to say I was involved. You won't remember but the sun scorched our world, and billions of lives were lost to fire. The amount of lives lost was unbelievable, but what came after that was worse. A deadly disease called the Flare attacks the brain, and it turns people into violent, angry cannibals. In time, a new generation was formed that could survive the Flare; you. From that, WICKED was born, and we are using you to find the antidote for this virus."

Minho turned away, rolling his eyes. "This is a load of klunk." He sighed. "Hey, shanks! I know you can hear me! Where's the tea party? You gonna let Mara speak for herself now?"

A chorus of uproar burst from her friends; Minho started to rampage around the room, Newt kept banging on the window, along with Thomas, Teresa and Chuck stood behind. Then, all of their heads shot to their right, towards the glass door. Mara couldn't see what was going on for two reasons; she wasn't close enough to the door to see around the window, and her vision was too blurred with tears. Even so, she knew the men with the guns were standing there.

"Please," Mara soft voice lifted to a shout, causing everyone to fall silent. She looked from each of her friends, who all showed the same expression of worry and fear. With a deep breath, Mara looked back to the sheet of paper.

"Mara-"

"Unfortunately, this is only phase one of the trials which you shall be performing in. However-" Her voice caught as her eyes followed the sentence to its end. What did it mean? Everything else she had read was what she had been told, but this was something she was never told, and something she was not expecting. "However, I will not be joining you."

After a long pause, Mara's tear stained eyes finally met Newt's. His mouth hung open slightly and his eyes welled up with tears. It was the first time she had ever seen him close to tears, except her 'death', and Mara saw his perfection, like always. His eyes were just as beautiful, and his lips were rose red. It was as if Mara could reach out and trace them with her fingers- that's what she longed to do. She wanted to hold him again, hold him and never let him go.

"Hey, shuckface!" Minho yelled, tearing Mara's eyes from Newt. This time it was him banging against the window that separated her from him and the other Gladers. Mara studied him, and she swore she could see the seriousness on his face; he was worried. "Can we drop the crap, now? Come on, Mara, whatever they're threatening, its not worth it."

"I have to do this," She muttered, more tears began to slide down her face. Her emotion "I have to."

She reached below the desk, like the note instructed, and what she found scared her to death. Everything about that one object was life threatening, but she picked it up. She was doing it for Newt, for Minho, Tommy, and every other Glader. Their lives were put before hers. 

Mara wanted to get it over with, so she read what came next. And it didn't surprise her one bit. Still, her eyes ran out of tears to shed, her brain went blank. She pushed everything from her mind, then held the gun to her head.

Cries burst from the room, voices told her not to do anything. Her friends were in tears, and she couldn't bare it. She couldn't bare anything anymore. Maybe she was doing the right thing, even if WICKED were the ones telling her to do it. Maybe she was supposed to be away, everything was her fault. Less people would have died if it wasn't for her. Nick wouldn't have died, they wouldn't have to worry about her, Newt wouldn't have been depressed after her fake death, and maybe, she could have been less selfish and stayed to help her friends fight their way out of the Maze. She could have helped less people die.

With her last breath, she squeezed her eyes shut. She had memorised the last phrase she had to say, but she didn't want to say it. And if she didn't say it, Newt would die with her.

"Remember," She wept, her eyes draining her last tear. "WICKED is good."

And then, she pulled the trigger.