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Chapter 18

           Theeffortwasexhausting;Thomasheavedineverybreath,feltsweatcovereveryinchofhisskin.Hishandsbegantoslipandslideonthevines.Hisfeetachedfrompressingintothestonecracks.Thesoundsgrewloudertheawful,awfulsounds.StillThomasworked.

           Whenthey’dreachedaspotaboutthirtyfeetofftheground,Thomasstopped,swayingonthevinehe’dtiedaroundhischest.Usinghisdrained,rubberyarms,heturnedhimselfaroundtofacetheMaze.Anexhaustionhe’dnotknownpossiblefilledeverytinyparticleofhisbody.Heachedwithweariness;hismusclesscreamed.Hecouldn’tpushAlbyupanotherinch.Hewasdone.

           Thiswaswherethey’dhide.Ormaketheirstand.

           He’dknowntheycouldn’treachthetopheonlyhopedtheGrieverscouldn’torwouldn’tlookabovethem.Or,attheveryleast,Thomashopedhecouldfightthemofffromhighup,onebyone,insteadofbeingoverwhelmedontheground.

           Hehadnoideawhattoexpect;hedidn’tknowifhe’dseetomorrow.Buthere,hangingintheivy,ThomasandAlbywouldmeettheirfate.

           AfewminutespassedbeforeThomassawthefirstglimmeroflightshineofftheMazewallsupahead.Theterriblesoundshe’dheardescalateforthelasthourtookonahigh-pitched,mechanicalsqueal,likearoboticdeathyell.

           Aredlighttohisleft,onthewall,caughthisattention.Heturnedandalmostscreamedoutloudabeetlebladewasonlyafewinchesfromhim,itsspindlylegspokingthroughtheivyandsomehowstickingtothestone.

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