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Chapter 18

           Theredlightofitseyewaslikealittlesun,toobrighttolookatdirectly.Thomassquintedandtriedtofocusonthebeetle’sbody.

           Thetorsowasasilvercylinder,maybethreeinchesindiameterandtenincheslong.Twelvejointedlegsranalongthelengthofitsbottom,spreadout,makingthethinglooklikeasleepinglizard.Theheadwasimpossibletoseebecauseoftheredbeamoflightshiningrightathim,thoughitseemedsmall,visionitsonlypurpose,perhaps.

           ButthenThomassawthemostchillingpart.Hethoughthe’dseenitbefore,backintheGladewhenthebeetlebladehadscootedpasthimandintothewoods.Nowitwasconfirmed:theredlightfromitseyecastacreepyglowonsixcapitalletterssmearedacrossthetorso,asiftheyhadbeenwrittenwithblood:

           WICKED

           Thomascouldn’timaginewhythatonewordwouldbestampedonthebeetleblade,unlessforthepurposeofannouncingtotheGladersthatitwasevil.Wicked.

           HeknewithadtobeaspyforwhoeverhadsentthemhereAlbyhadtoldhimasmuch,sayingthebeetleswerehowtheCreatorswatchedthem.Thomasstilledhimself,heldhisbreath,hopingthatmaybethebeetleonlydetectedmovement.Longsecondspassed,hislungsscreamingforair.

           Withaclickandthenaclack,thebeetleturnedandscuttledoff,disappearingintotheivy.Thomassuckedinahugegulpofair,thenanother,feelingthepinchofthevinestiedaroundhischest.

           AnothermechanicalsquealscreechedthroughtheMaze,closenow,followedbythesurgeofrevvedmachinery

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