Fools Of Us All - Chapter 17 (See August 4)

Tears would come later, I knew, but for now I was too tired and angry to care. I almost let that anger drive me to a fatal mistake, but Spin was paying more attention and he grabbed my arm before I could stumble around the corner without checking. Voices drifted down the hall, at least four of them, likely drawn by the sound of the blaster. But they had learned caution at this point and were proceeding with caution. That left us time to duck back and make some plans of our own.
A few minutes later we stood out in the relatively fresh air, the rain falling down our faces and matching my mood exactly. Why did you have to betray me like that? I had nothing, and you had come and shown me purpose, shown me that there really was something worth living for. Now I had nothing.
I was grateful for Spin’s silence. We walked for a couple of hours, dodging police cars and M.E.R.C. patrols. I wasn’t even thinking, just walking to get away. Instead, the smell of smoke and charred flesh brought me back to my senses and showed that I had gone back to the beginning. The remains of my old hideout stood before me. I couldn’t even begin to guess how long it had been since I had been here last, but there were no happy memories that remained. Only after twenty minutes of standing and staring did Spin’s gentle cough finally prompt me to action. With morbid curiosity I stepped through the door that was hanging askew from a single hinge, wrinkling my nose at the smell. A single, weak beam of light played across my body, the remnants of our weapons scan. I was heavily armed, but I knew that the automatic defences were no longer an issue so I just walked through the hole that used to be a door. Inside there was nothing left. Computers laid smashed, desks were splintered, and bodies were strewn everywhere. A smoking crater was all that remained of Dun’s old office, the walls collapsed around it. I viewed it all with a stoic calm, too numb to feel anymore.
That’s what I thought, anyway. There was nothing left that could be of any use to us, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I just stood and stared, taking a step or two every once in a while before a new memory hit me, flooding my mind with images that should be sad but which were instead tragic. My breathing was laboured now, but I didn’t notice, or care. Another step forward and I tripped, landing hard on the ground. I looked up, only to be confronted by the seared body of Dar, and that was it. I let it all out then, crying tears for the dead, lamenting the hand that life had dealt me.
I awoke uncountable times later, my throat raw and my hands sore. Spin was leaning against a wall, watching me with quiet concern. “Don’t scare me like that again,” he said gravely.
All I could do was nod mutely. My life had been flipped upside down so many times in the last week that I knew I could make no solid promise.