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- Джеймс Дэшнер
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Thomas
sighed
.
"
Just
get
me
some
food
.
"
The
kitchen
was
small
but
had
everything
one
needed
to
make
a
hearty
meal
.
A
big
oven
,
a
microwave
,
a
dishwasher
,
a
couple
of
tables
.
It
seemed
old
and
run-down
but
clean
.
Seeing
the
appliances
and
the
familiar
layout
made
Thomas
feel
as
if
memories
--
real
,
solid
memories
--
were
right
on
the
edge
of
his
mind
.
But
again
,
the
essential
parts
were
missing
--
names
,
faces
,
places
,
events
.
It
was
maddening
.
"
Take
a
seat
,
"
Chuck
said
.
"
I
'll
get
you
something
--
but
I
swear
this
is
the
last
time
.
Just
be
glad
Frypan
is
n't
around
--
he
hates
it
when
we
raid
his
fridge
.
"
Thomas
was
relieved
they
were
alone
.
As
Chuck
fumbled
about
with
dishes
and
things
from
the
fridge
,
Thomas
pulled
out
a
wooden
chair
from
a
small
plastic
table
and
sat
down
.
"
This
is
crazy
.
How
can
this
be
for
real
?
Somebody
sent
us
here
.
Somebody
evil
.
"
Chuck
paused
.
"
Quit
complaining
.
Just
accept
it
and
do
n't
think
about
it
.
"
"
Yeah
,
right
.
"
Thomas
looked
out
a
window
.
This
seemed
a
good
time
to
bring
up
one
of
the
million
questions
bouncing
through
his
brain
.
"
So
where
does
the
electricity
come
from
?
"
"
Who
cares
?
I
'll
take
it
.
"
What
a
surprise
,
Thomas
thought
.
No
answer
.
Chuck
brought
two
plates
with
sandwiches
and
carrots
over
to
the
table
.
The
bread
was
thick
and
white
,
the
carrots
a
sparkling
,
bright
orange
.
Thomas
's
stomach
begged
him
to
hurry
;
he
picked
up
his
sandwich
and
started
devouring
it
.
"
Oh
,
man
,
"
he
mumbled
with
a
full
mouth
.
"
At
least
the
food
is
good
.
"
