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- Джеймс Дэшнер
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Minho
was
standing
behind
him
,
looking
distraught
and
dirty
,
and
spotted
Thomas
first
.
"
Where
'd
you
go
?
"
he
asked
.
"
To
talk
to
Teresa
--
what
happened
?
"
He
waited
anxiously
for
the
next
dump
of
bad
news
.
Minho
's
forehead
creased
in
anger
.
"
Our
Map
Room
was
set
on
fire
and
you
ran
off
to
talk
to
your
shuck
girlfriend
?
What
's
wrong
with
you
?
"
Thomas
knew
the
rebuke
should
've
stung
,
but
his
mind
was
too
preoccupied
.
"
I
did
n't
think
it
mattered
anymore
--
if
you
have
n't
figured
out
the
Maps
by
now
...
"
Minho
looked
disgusted
,
the
pale
light
and
fog
of
smoke
making
his
face
seem
almost
sinister
.
"
Yeah
,
this
'd
be
a
great
freaking
time
to
give
up
.
What
the
--
"
"
I
'm
sorry
--
just
tell
me
what
happened
.
"
Thomas
leaned
over
the
shoulder
of
a
skinny
boy
standing
in
front
of
him
to
get
a
look
at
the
body
on
the
ground
.
It
was
Alby
,
flat
on
his
back
,
a
huge
gash
on
his
forehead
.
Blood
seeped
down
both
sides
of
his
head
,
some
into
his
eyes
,
crusting
there
.
Newt
was
cleaning
it
with
a
wet
rag
,
gingerly
,
asking
questions
in
a
whisper
too
low
to
hear
.
Thomas
,
concerned
for
Alby
despite
his
recent
ill-tempered
ways
,
turned
back
to
Minho
and
repeated
his
question
.
"
Winston
found
him
out
here
,
half
dead
,
the
Map
Room
blazing
.
Some
shanks
got
in
there
and
put
it
out
,
but
way
too
late
.
All
the
trunks
are
burned
to
a
freaking
crisp
.
I
suspected
Alby
at
first
,
but
whoever
did
it
slammed
his
shuck
head
against
the
table
--
you
can
see
where
.
It
's
nasty
.
"
"
Who
do
you
think
did
it
?
"
Thomas
was
hesitant
to
tell
him
about
the
possible
discovery
he
and
Teresa
had
made
.
With
no
Maps
,
the
point
was
moot
.
