11: Grian

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'Grian? I made dinner?' Mumbo says as he enters my room where I'm been huddled since the news report came out:

'A black market know as 'The Blindfold' has been found and eradicated earlier today. The leader of the Watcher Lions, the ground troops who handled the situation, expresses his sympathy to friends and family of the departed and his dismay that so many weren't advised against pursuing this illegal trade, or to remain calm instead of causing even more chaos,'

Jimmy sent me pictures. Where there wasn't ash or embers on the ground, there was blood. Bodies. People.

'Grian? Dinner?' Mumbo repeats. 'You've been here for ages... you haven't eaten anything in a day...'

'Not hungry,' I reply. 'Not moving.' Mumbo sits next to me.

'I know you blame yourself but... you did the right thing, right?' I can't fight a cold laugh.

'Do you even know the final death count?'

'...no?'

'Yeah. Exactly. There were too many to count. There are stories about the survivors being denied healthcare, that anyone who tries to get help is being questioned for involvement... it's horrible, Mumbo. And it's all because of me.'

'Grian...' Mumbo puts his arm around my shoulder. 'There was nothing you could've done... and the news said they were only killed if...'

'You really believe that f***ing propaganda, Mumbo?'

'Or maybe... maybe Jimmy was...'

'I know what happened!' I snap. Mumbo falls silent. 'It was the same as Southern Tower. Which I did see. Some conspiracy, or attempt to stop something or... something that just caused more suffering and...' I start sobbing, burying my head in Mumbo's shirt as he hugs me. The images run through my mind again. The truth.

'It's ok, Grian. Just rest here as long as you...'

'I have to go in tomorrow,' I mumble.

'Really?!'

'Yep.'

'But...'

'I know, Mumbo. I know.'

He doesn't speak, just hugging me. I hug him back, thinking again about everything. The tiredness of the last day washes over me; I didn't sleep well last night; and the world fades into nothing as I rest in Mumbo's arms.

Mumbo screams. 

I open my eyes. I'm in a street of bustling market stores, full of people running the opposite direction to Mumbo's scream. They're all screaming. There's fire. This is the Blindfold. Which means...

'NO! HE'S NOT PART OF THIS! I DIDN'T MEAN TO- I DIDN'T WANT HIM TO...' I sprint against the tide of people, shoving me away from him. Mumbo. Their eyes burn with hate, spitting curses and threats and blame in my direction. I hear the crackle of flames. I hear gunshot. Constant gunshot. Killing person after person, indiscriminate except the bullets pass through me without damage. I don't die. I don't lose anything.

'Traitor! Murderer!' The voices shout in my face. But it's not strangers, it's Scar, and it's Jimmy, and it's Martyn, and it's my fellow Hawk Officers... Officer Hypno, Officer Pearl, Officer Cub, screaming threats at me, calling me a traitor, a murderer, a monster, a snitch, a spy, the crowds never thinning but the blood and bodies rising beneath my feet.

Mumbo screams again. 

'NO! NO! MUMBO! MUMBO!'

'You only care because he's your friend.'

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