The Kill Order (Maze Runner 0.5)

Trina yelled in a loud, piercing voice, “Stop it! Everyone stop and listen to me!”

Her words sliced through the air and the cries and shouts and grunts coming from everyone in the tangled mass of bodies lining the stairs from top to bottom went silent. All movement stopped. Mark was stunned at the abrupt change—he scrambled out from underneath a couple of people who were staring at Trina, almost transfixed. His back hit the wall across from the lowest step. Trina was to his left, still clutching Deedee in her arms; to his right, Alec had freed himself, too.

All eyes were on Trina, as if she had some magical, hypnotic power. The silence in the basement was broken only by the breathing of the occupants.

“You all need to listen to me,” she said more quietly. There was a wildness in her eyes. “I’m one of you now. These men have come to help us. But you need to let us go so they can do that.”

This set off a chorus of mumbling and muttering throughout the crowd. Mark watched in sick fascination as they got to their feet, frantically whispering to each other, seeming to obey. The people were bloody and filthy, but they started to act in an organized fashion. Soon they were lined up on both sides of the stairs, leaving a clear path up the middle. Mark could tell that those at the top were communicating with other people in the house, spreading the word. It was all done with something like reverence.

Trina turned toward Mark. “Lead us up.”

She still showed no sign of recognition in her eyes, and it stung in his heart once again. He had no idea what was going on or how she’d gotten this sea of maniacs to listen to her command, but he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. He jumped to his feet and held his Transvice at the ready, without overtly showing it as a threat. He looked at Alec, who seemed as unsettled as Mark had ever seen him, doubt clouding his eyes. He nodded at Mark to go first.

Mark walked forward to the stairs and turned to Trina and Deedee. “Let’s go up, then. Come on, it’s going to be okay.” He’d never said anything in his life that he believed less.

They came to him, ready to follow. Trina had Deedee in front of her, gripping the little girl’s shoulders. Alec moved to stand right behind them.

“Up we go,” the man grumbled. His eyes were darting back and forth at the lines of people on both sides of the stairs. And the way he looked at them said it all—he thought for sure it was some kind of trap. His grip on his Transvice was a little tighter than Mark’s.

With a deep breath that made him aware of the awful smells of the people around him, Mark turned and faced the stairs again. He took the first step. Every single eye above him was focused on his face. To his right was a woman with stringy hair and bruised cheeks, staring at him with a slight, knowing smile. To his left stood a teenage boy in tattered clothes, scuffed and dirty from head to toe. He also seemed on the verge of laughing. More people waited with similar looks, all eyes on him. All silent and still.

“Would you get on with it?” Alec whispered from behind.

Mark took another step. He was worried about rushing up the stairs, as if Trina had put the infected into some kind of trance and that any hurried movement might break the spell. He lifted his foot and went one step higher. Then another. A glance backward showed Trina and Deedee right on his tail, and Alec behind them. The old man shot him a glare that said he was clearly unhappy with how slowly they were moving.

Mark took another step and then another, the strangers’ stares sending a cold tingling across his skin and down his spine. The smiles were getting bigger and creepier.

They were two-thirds of the way up when he heard a woman’s voice right behind him.

“Pretty. So very pretty.”

He turned to see the lady patting Deedee’s head, almost petting her like an animal at the zoo. The little girl’s face was filled with horror.

“Such a pretty child,” the woman said. “I could just eat you up. Like a turkey dinner. Yes. So sweet.”

Mark faced front again, repulsed. There was a bulging feeling in his chest, as if something were trying to escape. He’d just taken another step when a man reached out and poked his shoulder with a finger.

“Good, strong young boy, you are,” the stranger said. “I bet your mama’s proud, eh?”

Mark ignored him, went up another step. This time people on either side of him put their hands on his arm—not in a threatening way, just a touch. Another step. A woman moved away from the wall and threw her arms around his neck, squeezed him in a quick and fierce hug. Then she released him and stepped back into her position to the side. A wicked smile distorted her features.

Revulsion filled Mark. He couldn’t take another minute in that house. He threw caution to the wind and reached behind him, grabbed Deedee’s hand, then started moving faster up the steps. He could hear Alec’s feet pounding as he brought up the rear.

At first the infected seemed taken unaware, stunned by the sudden burst of motion. Mark made it to the top, across the landing, through the haunted faces that stared at them from both sides—and then he was in the hallway. The house was packed, people everywhere, some of them holding sticks and bats and knives. But there was a clear path down the middle, leading to the front door. Mark didn’t hesitate, started sprinting toward the exit, pulling Deedee along behind him.

They made it halfway before order collapsed. All of the house occupants seemed to scream at once, and their bodies swarmed in, pressing against Mark and his friends. Mark lost hold of Deedee’s hand and saw her disappear into the crowd, her sweet little cry like that of an angel among demons.