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- Джеймс Дэшнер
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- Бегущий в лабиринте
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- Стр. 61/344
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Another
snap
,
this
time
louder
,
almost
like
someone
had
broken
a
stick
over
their
knee
.
"
Who
's
there
?
"
Thomas
yelled
out
,
a
tingle
of
fear
shooting
across
his
shoulders
.
His
voice
bounced
off
the
canopy
of
leaves
above
him
,
echoing
through
the
air
.
He
stayed
frozen
,
rooted
to
the
spot
as
all
grew
silent
,
except
for
the
whistling
song
of
a
few
birds
in
the
distance
.
But
no
one
answered
his
call
.
Nor
did
he
hear
any
more
sounds
from
that
direction
.
Without
really
thinking
it
through
,
Thomas
headed
toward
the
noise
he
'd
heard
.
Not
bothering
to
hide
his
progress
,
he
pushed
aside
branches
as
he
walked
,
letting
them
whip
back
to
position
when
he
passed
.
He
squinted
,
willed
his
eyes
to
work
in
the
growing
darkness
,
wishing
he
had
a
flashlight
.
He
thought
about
flashlights
and
his
memory
.
Once
again
,
he
remembered
a
tangible
thing
from
his
past
,
but
could
n't
assign
it
to
any
specific
time
or
place
,
could
n't
associate
it
with
any
other
person
or
event
.
Frustrating
.
"
Anybody
there
?
"
he
asked
again
,
feeling
a
little
calmer
since
the
noise
had
n't
repeated
.
It
was
probably
just
an
animal
,
maybe
another
beetle
blade
.
Just
in
case
,
he
called
out
,
"
It
's
me
,
Thomas
.
The
new
guy
.
Well
,
second-newest
guy
.
"
He
winced
and
shook
his
head
,
hoping
now
that
no
one
was
there
.
He
sounded
like
a
complete
idiot
.
Again
,
no
reply
.
He
stepped
around
a
large
oak
and
pulled
up
short
.
An
icy
shiver
ran
down
his
back
.
He
'd
reached
the
graveyard
.
The
clearing
was
small
,
maybe
thirty
square
feet
,
and
covered
with
a
thick
layer
of
leafy
weeds
growing
close
to
the
ground
.
Thomas
could
see
several
clumsily
prepared
wooden
crosses
poking
through
this
growth
,
their
horizontal
pieces
lashed
to
the
upright
ones
with
a
splintery
twine
.
The
grave
markers
had
been
painted
white
,
but
by
someone
in
an
obvious
hurry
--
gelled
globs
covered
them
and
bare
streaks
of
wood
showed
through
.
Names
had
been
carved
into
the
wood
.
Thomas
stepped
up
,
hesitantly
,
to
the
closest
one
and
knelt
down
to
get
a
look
.
The
light
was
so
dull
now
that
he
almost
felt
as
if
he
were
looking
through
black
mist
.
Even
the
birds
had
quieted
,
like
they
'd
gone
to
bed
for
the
night
,
and
the
sound
of
insects
was
barely
noticeable
,
or
at
least
much
less
than
normal
.
For
the
first
time
,
Thomas
realized
how
humid
it
was
in
the
woods
,
the
damp
air
already
beading
sweat
on
his
forehead
,
the
backs
of
his
hands
.