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- Джеймс Дэшнер
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- Стр. 321/344
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"
Are
you
okay
?
What
about
everybody
else
?
"
Minho
stumbled
toward
the
curved
wall
of
the
tunnel
,
then
leaned
there
,
gulping
big
breaths
.
"
We
lost
a
ton
of
people
...
.
It
's
a
mess
of
blood
up
there
...
then
they
all
just
shut
down
.
"
He
paused
,
taking
in
a
really
deep
breath
and
letting
it
go
in
a
rush
of
air
.
"
You
did
it
.
I
ca
n't
believe
it
actually
worked
.
"
Newt
came
through
then
,
followed
by
Frypan
.
Then
Winston
and
others
.
Before
long
eighteen
boys
had
joined
Thomas
and
his
friends
in
the
tunnel
,
making
a
total
of
twenty-one
Gladers
in
all
.
Every
last
one
of
those
who
'd
stayed
behind
and
fought
was
covered
in
Griever
sludge
and
human
blood
,
their
clothes
ripped
to
shreds
.
"
The
rest
?
"
Thomas
asked
,
terrified
of
the
answer
.
"
Half
of
us
,
"
Newt
said
,
his
voice
weak
.
"
Dead
.
"
No
one
said
a
word
then
.
No
one
said
a
word
for
a
very
long
time
.
"
You
know
what
?
"
Minho
said
,
standing
up
a
little
taller
.
"
Half
might
've
died
,
but
half
of
us
shucking
lived
.
And
nobody
got
stung
--
just
like
Thomas
thought
.
We
've
got
ta
get
out
of
here
.
"
Too
many
,
Thomas
thought
.
Too
many
by
far
.
His
joy
dribbled
away
,
turned
into
a
deep
mourning
for
the
twenty
people
who
'd
lost
their
lives
.
Despite
the
alternative
,
despite
knowing
that
if
they
had
n't
tried
to
escape
,
all
of
them
might
've
died
,
it
still
hurt
,
even
though
he
had
n't
known
them
very
well
.
Such
a
display
of
death
--
how
could
it
be
considered
a
victory
?
"
Let
's
get
out
of
here
,
"
Newt
said
.
"
Right
now
.
"
"
Where
do
we
go
?
"
Minho
asked
.
