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- Джеймс Дэшнер
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As
Thomas
drew
,
he
started
to
feel
a
tickle
of
panic
,
a
sick
feeling
that
what
they
were
doing
was
a
complete
waste
of
time
.
But
Teresa
,
sitting
next
to
him
,
was
a
study
in
concentration
,
her
tongue
sticking
out
the
corner
of
her
mouth
as
she
traced
lines
up
and
down
,
side
to
side
.
She
seemed
way
more
confident
that
they
were
definitely
on
to
something
.
Box
by
box
,
section
by
section
,
they
continued
on
.
"
I
've
had
enough
,
"
Newt
finally
announced
,
breaking
the
quiet
.
"
My
fingers
are
bloody
burning
like
a
mother
.
See
if
it
's
working
.
"
Thomas
put
his
marker
down
,
then
flexed
his
fingers
,
hoping
he
'd
been
right
about
all
this
.
"
Okay
,
give
me
the
last
few
days
of
each
section
--
make
piles
along
the
table
,
in
order
from
Section
One
to
Section
Eight
.
One
here
"
--
he
pointed
at
an
end
--
"
to
Eight
here
.
"
He
pointed
at
the
other
end
Silently
,
they
did
as
he
asked
,
sorting
through
what
they
'd
traced
until
eight
low
stacks
of
wax
paper
lined
the
table
.
Jittery
and
nervous
,
Thomas
picked
up
one
page
from
each
pile
,
making
sure
they
were
all
from
the
same
day
,
keeping
them
in
order
.
He
then
laid
them
one
on
top
of
the
other
so
that
each
drawing
of
the
Maze
matched
the
same
day
above
it
and
below
it
,
until
he
was
looking
at
eight
different
sections
of
the
Maze
at
once
.
What
he
saw
amazed
him
.
Almost
magically
,
like
a
picture
coming
into
focus
,
an
image
developed
.
Teresa
let
out
a
small
gasp
.
Lines
crossed
each
other
,
up
and
down
,
so
much
so
that
what
Thomas
held
in
his
hands
looked
like
a
checkered
grid
.
But
certain
lines
in
the
middle
--
lines
that
happened
to
appear
more
often
than
any
other
--
made
a
slightly
darker
image
than
the
rest
.
It
was
subtle
,
but
it
was
,
without
a
doubt
,
there
.
Sitting
in
the
exact
center
of
the
page
was
the
letter
F.
Thomas
felt
a
rush
of
different
emotions
:
relief
that
it
had
worked
,
surprise
,
excitement
,
wonder
at
what
it
could
lead
to
.
"
Man
,
"
Minho
said
,
summing
up
Thomas
's
feelings
with
one
word
.
