Chapter 3

           Thomassatthereforseveralmoments,toooverwhelmedtomove.Hefinallyforcedhimselftolookoveratthehaggardbuilding.Agroupofboysmilledaroundoutside,glancinganxiouslyattheupperwindowsasifexpectingahideousbeasttoleapoutinanexplosionofglassandwood.

           Ametallicclickingsoundfromthebranchesabovegrabbedhisattention,madehimlookup;aflashofsilverandredlightcaughthiseyesjustbeforedisappearingaroundthetrunktotheotherside.Hescrambledtohisfeetandwalkedaroundthetree,craninghisneckforasignofwhateverhe’dheard,buthesawonlybarebranches,grayandbrown,forkingoutlikeskeletonfingersandlookingjustasalive.

           "Thatwasoneofthembeetleblades,"someonesaid.

           Thomasturnedtohisrighttoseeakidstandingnearby,shortandpudgy,staringathim.Hewasyoungprobablytheyoungestofanyinthegrouphe’dseensofar,maybetwelveorthirteenyearsold.Hisbrownhairhungdownoverhisearsandneck,scrapingthetopsofhisshoulders.Blueeyesshonethroughanotherwisepitifulface,flabbyandflushed.

           Thomasnoddedathim."Abeetlewhat?"

           "Beetleblade,"theboysaid,pointingtothetopofthetree."Won’thurtyaunlessyou’restupidenoughtotouchoneofthem."Hepaused."Shank."Hedidn’tsoundcomfortablesayingthelastword,asifhehadn’tquitegraspedtheslangoftheGlade.

           Anotherscream,thisonelongandnerve-grinding,torethroughtheairandThomas’sheartlurched.Thefearwaslikeicydewonhisskin.

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