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- Джеймс Дэшнер
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Minho
laughed
.
"
Yeah
,
tried
that
one
.
Asked
for
a
TV
,
too
,
but
no
luck
.
I
guess
those
shuck-faces
do
n't
want
us
seeing
how
wonderful
life
is
when
you
do
n't
live
in
a
freaking
maze
.
"
Thomas
felt
a
trickle
of
doubt
that
life
was
so
great
back
home
--
what
kind
of
world
allowed
people
to
make
kids
live
like
this
?
The
thought
surprised
him
,
as
if
its
source
had
been
founded
in
actual
memory
,
a
wisp
of
light
in
the
darkness
of
his
mind
.
But
it
was
already
gone
.
Shaking
his
head
,
he
finished
lacing
up
his
shoes
,
then
stood
up
and
jogged
around
in
circles
,
jumping
up
and
down
to
test
them
out
.
"
They
feel
pretty
good
.
I
guess
I
'm
ready
.
"
Minho
was
still
crouched
over
his
backpack
on
the
ground
;
he
glanced
up
at
Thomas
with
a
look
of
disgust
.
"
You
look
like
an
idiot
,
prancin
'
around
like
a
shuck
ballerina
.
Good
luck
out
there
with
no
breakfast
,
no
packed
lunch
,
no
weapons
.
"
Thomas
had
already
stopped
moving
,
felt
an
icy
chill
.
"
Weapons
?
"
"
Weapons
.
"
Minho
stood
and
walked
back
to
the
closet
.
"
Come
here
,
I
'll
show
ya
.
"
Thomas
followed
Minho
into
the
small
room
and
watched
as
he
pulled
a
few
boxes
away
from
the
back
wall
.
Underneath
lay
a
small
trapdoor
.
Minho
lifted
it
to
reveal
a
set
of
wooden
stairs
leading
into
blackness
.
"
Keep
'em
down
in
the
basement
so
shanks
like
Gally
ca
n't
get
to
them
.
Come
on
.
"
Minho
went
first
.
The
stairs
creaked
with
every
shift
of
weight
as
they
descended
the
dozen
or
so
steps
.
The
cool
air
was
refreshing
,
despite
the
dust
and
the
strong
scent
of
mildew
.
They
hit
a
dirt
floor
,
and
Thomas
could
n't
see
a
thing
until
Minho
turned
on
a
single
lightbulb
by
pulling
a
string
.
The
room
was
larger
than
Thomas
had
expected
,
at
least
thirty
square
feet
.
Shelves
lined
the
walls
,
and
there
were
several
blocky
wooden
tables
;
everything
in
sight
was
covered
with
all
manner
of
junk
that
gave
him
the
creeps
.
Wooden
poles
,
metal
spikes
,
large
pieces
of
mesh
--
like
what
covers
a
chicken
coop
--
rolls
of
barbed
wire
,
saws
,
knives
,
swords
.
One
entire
wall
was
dedicated
to
archery
:
wooden
bows
,
arrows
,
spare
strings
.
The
sight
of
it
immediately
brought
back
the
memory
of
Ben
getting
shot
by
Alby
in
the
Deadheads
.
"
Wow
,
"
Thomas
murmured
,
his
voice
a
dull
thump
in
the
enclosed
place
.
At
first
he
was
terrified
that
they
needed
so
many
weapons
,
but
he
was
relieved
to
see
that
the
vast
majority
of
it
was
covered
with
a
thick
layer
of
dust
.
