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Chapter 55

           Andsoitwentforhimastheykeptmoving,thoseGladersnotusedtorunningsuchdistancesgaspinginhugegulpsofair.Butnoonequit.Onandontheyran,withnosignsofGrievers.Andasthetimepassed,Thomaslettheslightesttrickleofhopeenterhissystemmaybethey’dmakeitbeforegettingattacked.Maybe.

           Finally,afterthelongesthourofThomas’slife,theyreachedthelongalleythatledtothelastturnbeforetheCliffashortcorridortotherightthatbranchedofflikethestemoftheletterT.

           Thomas,hisheartthumping,sweatslickinghisskin,hadmoveduprightbehindMinho,Teresaathisside.Minhoslowedatthecorner,thenstopped,holdingupahandtotellThomasandtheotherstodothesame.Thenheturned,alookofhorroronhisface.

           "Doyouhearthat?"hewhispered.

           Thomasshookhishead,tryingtosquashtheterrorMinho’sexpressionhadgivenhim.

           Minhocreptaheadandpeekedaroundthesharpedgeofstone,lookingtowardtheCliff.Thomashadseenhimdothatbefore,whenthey’dfollowedaGrievertothisveryspot.Justlikethattime,Minhojerkedbackandturnedtofacehim.

           "Oh,no,"theKeepersaidthroughamoan."Oh,no."

           ThenThomasheardit.Grieversounds.Itwasasifthey’dbeenhiding,waiting,andnowwerecomingtolife.Hedidn’tevenhavetolookheknewwhatMinhowasgoingtosaybeforehesaidit.

           "There’satleastadozenofthem.Maybefifteen."Hereachedupandrubbedhiseyeswiththeheelsofhishands.

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