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- Джеймс Дэшнер
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- Стр. 332/344
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"
All
things
happen
for
a
purpose
,
"
she
said
,
any
sign
of
malice
now
gone
from
her
voice
.
"
You
must
understand
this
.
"
Thomas
looked
at
her
,
threw
all
his
compressed
hatred
into
the
glare
.
But
he
did
nothing
.
Teresa
placed
her
other
hand
on
his
arm
,
gripped
his
bicep
.
What
now
?
she
asked
.
I
do
n't
know
,
he
replied
.
I
ca
n't
--
His
sentence
was
cut
short
by
a
sudden
series
of
shouts
and
commotion
outside
the
entrance
through
which
the
woman
had
come
.
She
visibly
panicked
,
the
blood
draining
from
her
face
as
she
turned
toward
the
door
.
Thomas
followed
her
gaze
.
Several
men
and
women
dressed
in
grimy
jeans
and
soaking-wet
coats
burst
through
the
entrance
with
guns
raised
,
yelling
and
screaming
words
over
each
other
.
It
was
impossible
to
understand
what
they
were
saying
.
Their
guns
--
some
were
rifles
,
other
pistols
--
looked
...
archaic
,
rustic
.
Almost
like
toys
abandoned
in
the
woods
for
years
,
recently
discovered
by
the
next
generation
of
kids
ready
to
play
war
.
Thomas
stared
in
shock
as
two
of
the
newcomers
tackled
the
WICKED
woman
to
the
floor
.
Then
one
stepped
back
and
drew
up
his
gun
,
aimed
.
No
way
,
Thomas
thought
.
No
--
Flashes
lit
the
air
as
several
shots
exploded
from
the
gun
,
slamming
into
the
woman
's
body
.
She
was
dead
,
a
bloody
mess
.
Thomas
took
several
steps
backward
,
almost
stumbled
.
