the maze runner (maze runner trilogy, book 1) ( pdfdrive )

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also by james dashner the 13th reality series the journal of curious letters the hunt for dark infinity for lynette. this book was a three-year journey, and you never doubted. chapter 1 he began his new life standing up, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air. metal ground against metal; a lurching shudder shook the floor beneath him. he fell down at the sudden movement and shuffled backward on his hands and feet, drops of sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air. his back struck a hard metal wall; he slid along it until he hit the corner of the room. sinking to the floor, he pulled his legs up tight against his body, hoping his eyes would soon adjust to the darkness. with another jolt, the room jerked upward like an old lift in a mine shaft. harsh sounds of chains and pulleys, like the workings …

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olor. he couldn’t think of one person he knew, or recall a single conversation. the room continued its ascent, swaying; thomas grew immune to the ceaseless rattling of the chains that pulled him upward. a long time passed. minutes stretched into hours, although it was impossible to know for sure because every second seemed an eternity. no. he was smarter than that. trusting his instincts, he knew he’d been moving for roughly half an hour. strangely enough, he felt his fear whisked away like a swarm of gnats caught in the wind, replaced by an intense curiosity. he wanted to know where he was and what was happening. with a groan and then a clonk, the rising room halted; the sudden change jolted thomas from his huddled position and threw him across the hard floor. as he scrambled to his feet, he felt the room sway less and less until …

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in a t-shirt.” “you’re the klunk, shuck-face.” “dude, it smells like feet down there!” “hope you enjoyed the one-way trip, greenie.” “ain’t no ticket back, bro.” thomas was hit with a wave of confusion, blistered with panic. the voices were odd, tinged with echo; some of the words were completely foreign—others felt familiar. he willed his eyes to adjust as he squinted toward the light and those speaking. at first he could see only shifting shadows, but they soon turned into the shapes of bodies—people bending over the hole in the ceiling, looking down at him, pointing. and then, as if the lens of a camera had sharpened its focus, the faces cleared. they were boys, all of them—some young, some older. thomas didn’t know what he’d expected, but seeing those faces puzzled him. they were just teenagers. kids. some of his fear melted away, but not enough to calm …

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d poked him with a finger. there had to be at least fifty of them, their clothes smudged and sweaty as if they’d been hard at work, all shapes and sizes and races, their hair of varying lengths. thomas suddenly felt dizzy, his eyes flickering between the boys and the bizarre place in which he’d found himself. they stood in a vast courtyard several times the size of a football field, surrounded by four enormous walls made of gray stone and covered in spots with thick ivy. the walls had to be hundreds of feet high and formed a perfect square around them, each side split in the exact middle by an opening as tall as the walls themselves that, from what thomas could see, led to passages and long corridors beyond. “look at the greenbean,” a scratchy voice said; thomas couldn’t see who it came from. “gonna break his …

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of confusion—hearing so many words and phrases that didn’t make sense. shank. shuck. keeper. slopper. they popped out of the boys’ mouths so naturally it seemed odd for him not to understand. it was as if his memory loss had stolen a chunk of his language—it was disorienting. different emotions battled for dominance in his mind and heart. confusion. curiosity. panic. fear. but laced through it all was the dark feeling of utter hopelessness, like the world had ended for him, had been wiped from his memory and replaced with something awful. he wanted to run and hide from these people. the scratchy-voiced boy was talking. “—even do that much, bet my liver on it.” thomas still couldn’t see his face. “i said shut your holes!” the dark boy yelled. “keep yapping and next break’ll be cut in half!” that must be their leader, thomas realized. hating how everyone gawked …

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also by james dashner the 13th reality series the journal of curious letters the hunt for dark infinity for lynette. this book was a three-year journey, and you never doubted. chapter 1 he began his new life standing up, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air. metal ground against metal; a lurching shudder shook the floor beneath him. he fell down at the sudden movement and shuffled backward on his hands and feet, drops of sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air. his back struck a hard metal wall; he slid along it until he hit the corner of the room. sinking to the floor, he pulled his legs up tight against his body, hoping his eyes …

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