How're we gonna get something like that out of our heads? Their disgusting skin and blubber bodies, all those metal arms and spikes. What do you think? Somehow she projected a jab of cynicism into the words. He stared at the bottom of the bunk above him-featureless and darkly fuzzy in the shadow-where Minho was currently breathing like a guy with ungodly amounts of phlegm lodged in his throat. Didn't give me much choice in the matter, did you? Kind of hard to sleep when someone's talking directly into your skull. Even though she wouldn't be able to see it, it would be embarrassing all the same. I was hoping you were awake to keep me company. He spoke back, forming the words with his thoughts. But he heard it all the same, though never could he have explained to anyone how it worked.Įxhaling a deep breath, he relaxed into his pillow, his razor-edged nerves settling down from that fleeting moment of terror. He was safe now, rescued and delivered to this dormitory. The soft breaths and gurgly snores of boys deep in slumber. But there was a faint light, and lumps of dim shadow gradually emerged throughout the huge room. At first he panicked his eyes snapped open as he imagined himself back in the Box-that horrible cube of cold metal that had delivered him to the Glade and the Maze. Thomas shifted in his bed, felt a darkness around him like air turned solid, pressing in. She spoke to him before the world fell apart.
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