Бегущий в лабиринте

Chapter 1

           Andyethedidn’tknowwherehecamefrom,orhowhe’dgotteninsidethedarklift,orwhohisparentswere.Hedidn’tevenknowhislastname.Imagesofpeopleflashedacrosshismind,buttherewasnorecognition,theirfacesreplacedwithhauntedsmearsofcolor.Hecouldn’tthinkofonepersonheknew,orrecallasingleconversation.

           Theroomcontinueditsascent,swaying;Thomasgrewimmunetotheceaselessrattlingofthechainsthatpulledhimupward.Alongtimepassed.Minutesstretchedintohours,althoughitwasimpossibletoknowforsurebecauseeverysecondseemedaneternity.No.Hewassmarterthanthat.Trustinghisinstincts,heknewhe’dbeenmovingforroughlyhalfanhour.

           Strangelyenough,hefelthisfearwhiskedawaylikeaswarmofgnatscaughtinthewind,replacedbyanintensecuriosity.Hewantedtoknowwherehewasandwhatwashappening.

           Withagroanandthenaclonk,therisingroomhalted;thesuddenchangejoltedThomasfromhishuddledpositionandthrewhimacrossthehardfloor.Ashescrambledtohisfeet,hefelttheroomswaylessandlessuntilitfinallystilled.Everythingfellsilent.

           Aminutepassed.Two.Helookedineverydirectionbutsawonlydarkness;hefeltalongthewallsagain,searchingforawayout.Buttherewasnothing,onlythecoolmetal.Hegroanedinfrustration;hisechoamplifiedthroughtheair,likethehauntedmoanofdeath.Itfaded,andsilencereturned.Hescreamed,calledforhelp,poundedonthewallswithhisfists.

           Nothing.

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