Montag and his companions walked onwards and eventually began to attempt to clear some of the rubble. They didn’t know what they may find, but they thought that there may be some survivors. It was rare to find survivors in the rubble after minor earthquakes, the group had read books, and so they knew this fact, but they looked never-the-less. The group continued searching for survivors, burying the dead, and sometimes coming across tattered remains of old books, which they took with them as they scavenged the land. They were also looking for food, but this is the thing that had not changed since they were outside the city.
Eventually they came across another group of people in the distance, at first just a collection of pillars to the naked eye, and then they came closer. Montag started towards them, then hesitated, then continued towards them. Granger was this time one step behind Montag, and the group was suddenly all moving towards the columns, like walking towards the ruin of an ancient temple. However, the ruins around them were not ancient, they were only a few hours old, if not just a day, the group had lost track of time, lost in the rubble with the city.
As Montag walked, he thought about the city, now burnt beyond recognition. He thought of the Phoenix, which burns itself. Burnt to ashes, and then born from the ashes. Montag again looked around at the ashes of the city. Then he broke the silence.
‘Burnt to ashes, and then born from the ashes,’ he mumbled quietly under his breath. The others heard him however; they were in a ghost town after all.
‘Speak up, Montag,’ replied Granger, shaken from his thoughts by the sudden noise.
‘I said: ‘Burnt to ashes, and then born from the ashes’.’
There was no reply, for the group ahead of them turned and came towards them. The two bodies came together, silent. Most people had seen pictures of Montag during him being chased out of the city, and would most likely be afraid, but instead they stood, staring into Montag and the book people’s eyes. Montag was the only one with a look of recognition on his face. He noticed two familiar faces.
‘I suspect you and us are the only ones left in the city,’ said one, stepping forward. ‘I’m Joe; this is Clarisse, Faber, Mark, Ellie…’
Montag nearly gasped out loud, but he had misheard: Ellie, so close to Millie.
‘I never thought I’d see you two again,’ Montag interrupted suddenly, breaking out of his thoughts.
‘Ditto,’ Faber replied, Clarisse nodding also.
‘Can we save the re-union for later?’ said the leader, Joe. ‘Yes, we’re the same, we’re all people exiled from our homes as a result of a corrupt world, but we’ve got to get out and start looking for more survivors; hopefully we can salvage some material and build shelters for the night.’
‘Good idea,’ said Granger.
The group was about to set off, but there was a groan, and suddenly, the mechanical hound was ahead, mangled and twisted, but just as genuinely frightening as before.
‘Run,’ said Montag, quietly at first. ‘Run!’
They all turned in unison and dashed, the hound giving chase. The sounds of their footsteps were the only sounds they could hear, possibly the only sound in many miles in any direction. The hound was silent, and this provided a false sense of safety. Granger slowed and turned, the hound pounced on his leg, the needle protracting. Montag had a look of horror as he ran back to his friend, no sooner than they had all set off, and kicked the creature with his heavy boots. The same boots he had worn as a fireman, he hadn’t even noticed. The hound was destroyed, but as for Granger, Montag wasn’t sure.
Granger fell back, clutching his leg.
Montag caught him. Granger was still conscious. The hound couldn’t have injected enough of its lethal cocktail. Granger gasped for air.
‘Hold on Granger,’ said Montag in desperation.
Granger’s eyes closed, and his body went limp. Montag checked for a pulse. There was nothing. Montag attempted to revive him. Still there was nothing. Montag continued, desperate this time.
Then, Granger choked on the air, and his eyes flickered open like an old, dying parlour wall. Montag took a quick glance around him at all the parlour walls now reduced to dust. The entire event had been as quick as a few seconds, but it felt like days.
‘Burnt to ashes, and then born from the ashes,’ he thought. The two groups walked onwards, looking at the ruins, thinking of the revolution.
by
josh-es (student)
