The Maze Runner - James Dashner

ALSO BY JAMES DASHNER
The 13th Reality series
The Journal of Curious Letters
The Hunt for Dark Infinity

F or Lynette. This book was a three-year journey,
and you never doubted.

CHAPTER 1
He began his new life standing up, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air.
Metal ground against metal; a lurching shudder shook the oor beneath him. He fell down at the sudden movementand shu ed backward
on his hands and feet, drops of sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air. His back struck a hard metal wall; he slid along it until he
hit the corner of the room. Sinking to the oor, he pulled his legs up tight against his body, hoping his eyes would soon adjust to the
darkness.
With another jolt, the room jerked upward like an old lift in a mine shaft.
Harshsounds of chains and pulleys, like the workings of an ancient steel factory, echoed through the room, bouncing o the walls with a
hollow, tinny whine. The lightless elevator swayed back and forth as it ascended, turning the boy’s stomach sour with nausea; a smell like
burnt oil invaded his senses, making him feel worse. He wanted to cry, but no tears came; he could only sit there, alone, waiting.My name is Thomas, he thought.
That … that was the only thing he could remember about his life.
He didn’t understand how this could be possible. His mind functioned without aw, trying to calculate his surroundings and predicament.
Knowledge ooded his thoughts, facts and images, memories and details of the world and how it works. He pictured snow on trees, running
down a leaf-strewn road,eating a hamburger, the moon casting a p ale glow on a grassy meadow, swimming in a lake, a busy city square
with hundreds of people bustling about their business.
And yet he didn’t know where he came from, or how he’d gotten inside the dark lift, or who his parents were. He didn’t even know his
last name. Images of people ashed across his mind, but there was no recognition, their faces replacedwith haunted smears of color. He
couldn’t think of one person he knew, or recall a single conversation.
The room continued its ascent, swaying; Thomas grew immune to the ceaseless rattling of the chains that pulled him upward. A long time
passed. Minutes stretched into hours, although it was impossible to know for sure because every second seemed an eternity. No. He was
smarter than that.Trusting his instincts, he knew he’d been moving for roughly half an hour.
Strangely enough, he felt his fear whisked away like a swarm of gnats caught in the wind, replaced by an intense curiosity. He wanted to
know where he was and what was happening.
With a groan and then a clonk, the rising room halted; the sudden change jolted Thomas from his huddled position and threw him across
the hard floor.As he scrambled to his feet, he felt the room sway less and less until it finally stilled. Everything fell silent.
A minute passed. Two. He looked in every direction but saw only darkness; he felt along the walls again, searching for a way out. But
there was nothing, only the cool metal. He groaned in frustration; his echo ampli ed through the air, like the haunted moan of death. It
faded, andsilence returned. He screamed, called for help, pounded on the walls with his fists.
Nothing.
Thomas backed into the corner once again, folded his arms and shivered, and the fear returned. He felt a worrying shudder in his chest, as
if his heart wanted to escape, to flee his body.
“Someone … help … me!” he screamed; each word ripped his throat raw.
A loud clank rang out above him and hesucked in a startled breath as he looked up. A straight line of light appeared across the ceiling of
the room, and Thomas watched as it expanded. A heavy grating sound revealed double sliding doors being forced open. After so long in
darkness, the light stabbed his eyes; he looked away, covering his face with both hands.
He heard noises above—voices—and fear squeezed his chest.
“Look at that...