𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 - 𝘋𝘌𝘈𝘛𝘏 𝘊𝘜𝘙𝘌

24 ~ jump then fall

Lottie

I would consider myself a fit person, given that I'd spent the past two years of my life running from things and hardly ever getting a decent meal. However, no amount of training could have prepared me for sprinting up fifty flights of stairs. 

I was gassed by the thirtieth floor, but the alarm was still blaring and I knew it was only a matter of time before the building's security realized that there were two groups of intruders. I kept climbing. Nobody was speaking – the only noises were the alarm, our pounding footsteps on the concrete steps, and four sets of lungs trying to get their bodies through this.

Finally – finally – we burst through the door at the top of the skyscraper with the number fifty on it. I halfheartedly cheered before stumbling over to the nearest wall and pressing my forehead to it, letting the coolness calm my heart.

"Was there not an elevator?" Thomas gasped, clutching a stitch in his side. His black shirt stuck to his back, turning it an even darker color as sweat soaked it.

"Not one that we could've used subtly," Spitfire replied. While the rest of us were trying to not make our lungs collapse, he just put his hands behind his head to prevent cramps. He took a big breath and I rolled my eyes as his muscles flexed under his shirt – it was like he didn't even have to try.

The top floor had one main room with many doors connected to it. It was cold up there, and there was a whole wall that was one big window. Out of it I could see the entire city and the mountains beyond. The lights in windows represented the few citizens of Denver staying up late, unaware of the heist occurring in their tallest skyscraper.

"Do we split up and each check a door? We don't have much time to wait for the others, and they'd be bringing security up with them anyway," Minho rationalized, already reaching to open the one closest to him. 

"Yes, we need to move quickly."

The first room I checked was small, and the furniture made it feel even more cramped. It seemed to be an office, based off the desk littered with papers and the filing cabinets with drawers half-open. My curiosity got the better of me and I lunged for the papers – what if WICKED was lying to us the whole time and they had already found a cure, and the answer was right here under my nose? I knew I was being delusional, but I couldn't help it. 

I skimmed the pages, throwing them back on the desk after realizing it had nothing to do with the Flare, the Maze, or anything I cared about. It seemed like whoever's office this was had been researching. Many of the papers dated back to many, many years ago. 

I flew through the filing cabinets next, pausing when I came across a drawer that was labeled with something familiar: MAZE A. I knew what Maze A was; I lived Maze A. I seized the first file and thumbed through the pages. Many of them were things I already knew, like descriptions of the "subjects" WICKED had placed in the Maze. Next to each description was the word "deceased" in bright red letters. I gritted my teeth and kept going until I saw a name that took my breath away.

Annabelle Benson; A30. She didn't have the deceased mark by her name, and I slowly grinned. I knew it. However, it did say at the bottom Enemy of WICKED – In captivity. A wave of fury passed through me. Annabelle hadn't deserved a single thing that had happened to her. She had just been the unlucky one who was left behind. 

"Lottie! The others are here," came the faint voice of Minho. I quickly stuffed the Maze A file into my shirt as well as the other one labeled Maze B and left the room. Sure enough, Jorge, Brenda, Julian, and Frypan were stumbling out of the other stairwell. They seemed just as exhausted as we had been.