Page 40 of Uprising

How they can believe it all.

Holden bends down, picking something up, brushing off all the dirt and grime and I realise it’s a photograph, torn, seared at the edges. I take it from his hands, study it and my heart clenches more as I see it’s me, me and Sofia. And our parents too.

God, what would they think of me if they knew about this? If they knew how far we’d fallen. If they knew how much danger my sister is in right now and that I’m stood doing nothing to save her.

I guess it’s a good thing my father died when he did. He didn’t have to see the ignominy of our situation. But then he contributed to it as well. He was the one that started the whole organ trade, after my mother passed, after he grew bitter and greedy in his later years.

And then he was too weak to stop the Capulets from gaining ground, taking over.

I shake my head, clench my fists. I don’t know what I expected to see coming here, I don’t know what I expected to feel either but I had to see what I’d done, just as much as I had to watch that footage of Rose’s wedding.

These are my fuckups. My mistakes.

And right now everyone I care about is paying a damned high price for my ineptitude.

I turn leaving the others to follow me back.

I’ve seen enough. I need to plan now, I need to channel this anger into something useful. Something of worth and not this deep festering emotion that gives me nothing.

Holden catches up with me and we walk, both hands in pockets with our heads bowed.

As we get nearer the bikes there’s a yapping. It’s barely noticeable but the closer we get the louder it grows.

And then I turn as I realise what that sound actually is.

“Bella.” I murmur.

She looks like shit. She’s running full pelt, her little legs all covered in mud and dirt. Her fur has grown so long it’s mangled into itself and you can barely see her bug eyes through it. She has twigs and leaves caught up in her body.

I bend down scoop her up. She’s so thin I can feel all her bones. How the fuck she’s still alive I don’t know but I hold her close, let her nuzzle into me the way she used to do to Rose.

She stinks but I don’t care. It doesn’t matter how filthy she is. This was Rose’s pet. She loved this little dog.

Some of the men look at me like I’ve lost my marbles but I just ignore it getting onto the back of the nearest bike, tucking her into my jacket to keep her as safe as possible.

She’ll need a bath. And a groom. And we’ll have to sort out getting her decent food seeing as she’s allergic to everything.

But she’s alive.

This poor little creature somehow managed to avoid all the death and destruction around her.

* * *

When we get backto the tunnels I give her a bath. She fights hard, splashing me and Ben with water as we try to get all the muck off.

We towel her dry and again she squirms, grumbling, clearly hating every minute.

I don’t even know what I’m doing but I start cutting away at the mange and as I do I can see how red, how angry her skin all is. I guess that’s from the allergies, from having to eat whatever she can find.

“It’s okay pup.” I soothe not that she seems to care.

“I heard a rumour…” Tia says walking up behind us and we both look up.

“What rumour?” Ben asks.

“That you decided to get a pet.” She says smirking.

I shake my head. “That’s not it. It’s Rose’s dog. Somehow it survived.”

---