Chapter Ten
Yun
Hearing the story play out, I didn’t doubt a moment of it. Sure, months ago, when I’d first met them, if Carter had told me this, I’d have laughed at him.
It just seemed too convenient, the idea that they weren’t bad people, that they’d simply gotten caught up in a bad situation. They weren’t cowards—they were heroes!
However, after the months together, after seeing them risk themselves for the three earlier, I didn’t doubt them anymore.
Besides, I was the last person to defend the Guild, not after all I’d seen them brush under the rug.
They’d turned every problem with an esper into my problem, because that was easier for PR to spin.
A weak guide who didn’t understand their job was a far easier story to sell to the public than the idea that espers could be dangerous.
“So Corsa was caught inside and that’s how he ended up corrupted?” I asked, piecing it all together.
“Seems that way. It’s at least sort of our fault, I guess, what happened. If we hadn’t let him go—”
I shook my head. “You can’t blame yourself for that. Corsa sounds like he was an asshole even when he was still an esper. It’s not a shock he’s worse after corruption, but that was all his choice. And the Guild threw you under the bus when you got back?”
Ingram spoke up this time rather than Carter. “We were public enemy number one. The Guild put out the story—quietly, of course—that our squad had run from our mission out of fear. No mention of the daycare, of the kids, none of it.”
“But there were witnesses of what really happened.”
“The Guild has the right people in the right places to make sure that even if anyone wanted to talk, the story never played. It didn’t take much for that one rumor to blow up, and suddenly everyone has a tale of their own.
The time we didn’t save someone because they were already fucking dead became, ‘Reject Squad left my father to die because he didn’t pay them off. ’”
I squeezed my hands into fists, wishing I could do something, anything. “But you know the truth. Why didn’t you guys speak up?”
Carter let out a harsh laugh. “Listen, Blizzard, sometimes things are worth fighting and sometimes they aren’t.
Command had already made up their minds.
They needed a scapegoat, an enemy, so that all the deaths in The Pitt that day had a face to hang the blame on.
That’s who we were. It made me realize that there was no reason to try to play the game, to give a fuck what anyone thinks, because they’ll turn on you the moment it suits them.
Espers I’d trained myself, who I’d protected, and civilians I’d saved, they all thew us out because of some damn story.
One wrong move and let me tell you, the fall fucking hurts. ”
I frowned as I stared down, thinking about everything I’d seen with them, from them. I thought about the times I’d called them lazy, the way they’d ignored protocol, how they’d seemed indifferent to things like duty.
It all made a little more sense.
They’d dedicated their lives, risked their lives, for that duty and for what? They’d discovered that they were disposable, that the system they’d given everything for hadn’t cared about them at all.
I’d been there too, recognized that the Guild cared more about their reputation and what they wanted than doing what was right.
Still, what was I supposed to say in return? Everything I could think of felt inadequate. It felt like cheap platitudes, so I kept it inside.
“Why do you think they kept you around at all?” I asked. “It seems like it would have been easier to jail you or something, to make sure you couldn’t be a problem.”
“Espers are difficult to jail, and we didn’t make any real waves after that.
I think they like having us around like a cautionary tale.
Sure, people don’t know what really happened, but they still see us as fallen heroes all because we disobeyed orders.
That’s why I said the stories weren’t entirely wrong.
We did disobey them. We did leave those people to die. They aren’t wrong about that.”
“But you did it for a reason.”
“Does that matter? Everyone has a reason for what they do. Was it a good choice? A bad choice? You can ask a hundred people and you’ll get a hundred different answers.
I’m over trying to work that out. Instead, I can just say that it was the choice I could live with.
Course, I never thought we’d end up here having to face it all again. ”
“You didn’t consider that The Pitt would open again?”
“Ten years is a long time in the life of an esper. Lots of us fall well before then, so no, I didn’t think we’d face it again. Even if we survived to it, I never really thought the Guild would send us back. Figured they’d only give us the chance to fuck it up once.”
I nodded, unable to help wondering what exactly that meant. It was true that after what happened last time, it seemed strange that they’d send them again…
An unsettled feeling grew inside me, a worry that there was something deeper at play here, something none of us understood just yet.
“Enough of that,” Carter said, brushing his hands off on the top of his pants as though trying to wipe off the story itself, like he could cleanse himself of that mess so easily.
“You were up most of the night, then we got stuck in here. If we push you much further without a break, you’re going to end up on your ass. Take a rest.”
“There isn’t time,” I argued.
“Yeah, there is. You learn in our line of work that if you don’t make time for rest, you crash. Just an hour won’t hurt us on timeline, and it’ll help you get through to the end of this.”
I glanced over at Ingram, who still sat beside me. He patted his lap, but even that welcome I struggled to accept.
“I’ll watch,” Shear offered, voice soft. “I’ll try to make sure Corsa can’t bother you.”
The way I released a shuddering breath said that was my worry, even if I hadn’t let myself recognize the source of it.
I’d grown used to dealing with him in my dreams, but I hadn’t yet had to encounter him here.
There was no doubt that he’d be more powerful here, that this would be more like confronting the monster he’d been here before.
I stretched out, curling my knees forward to fit on the sofa, my head on Ingram’s lap, resting on my side. He dragged his fingers through my hair, the touch reassuring.
It helped me close my eyes. The groaning of the walls, the wind outside, all of it drifted away. The soft tenor of the men’s voices, lowered so I couldn’t pick out individual words, helped as well.
All of it let me relax enough for sleep to take me.
I knew sleep didn’t fix anything, that the same problems would be there when I opened my eyes, but hell, maybe I’d be a little more ready to face them by then…