Thirty-Seven
The gate squeaked. He left the Babylonian Temple and turned right. Where he would go I didn't know, but I knew that he would leave. I had felt his restlessness. I was counting on it. When he left the gate and walked along the road for several miles, I followed him in the darkness. A part of me wanted to take out my gun and shoot him, right here, right now. This part of me saw the image again and again. How he cold-bloodedly shot Annie in the underground. He was a murderer. He deserved it, right? But I also knew that it was truly me who was to blame. I had seen in back in the labour camp, the havoc he would wreak. I had known who he would become, and I could have shot him there. Prevented Annie’s death, the destruction of Area Three. But I rescued the boy, and then I left him
