Bolt

28| It Feels Good Blaming Someone Else.

The crowd separated into two sides, leaving a path between them. As I passed, most shouted or spat at me, while others cried and asked why I had done it.

Why? I chuckled, and it seemed to anger the latter too. They wouldn't have understood me even if I had explained.

The thing with angry people was that the truth never satisfied them. They wanted a punching bag to release all their anger on, and Captain Tombstone had promised them that.

Diana led me up onto the wooden platform and stopped me when we reached the center. I stared at the mob in front of me, their glares making bugs crawl under my skin. I gulped, never expecting to be in this situation when I had devised the plan. My teammates were dead, and there was nothing I could do to escape. And if I did, where would I go?

By now they would have displayed my face on every news channel across the globe as the one responsible for the dome in Tombstone. My mother used to say, "You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

It seemed I had lived long enough.

And if I escaped, every city would be on alert, making me their priority. I would live a lonely life, hunted by peculiars and mundanes until the day I died. After coming out of a miserable life where I was always alone, I didn't want that again.

"This is all I can do to help," Diana whispered. Something pinched my arm, making me hiss. Glancing at her, she was already walking down the platform, heading to the police station instead of joining the angry mob. Before entering the building, I noticed a small syringe in her hand, making me smile.

Captain Tombstone took her place, standing beside me. He held a microphone in one hand. "Ladies and gentlemen, we got him!" The crowd cheered, making him smile. "We got the man responsible for the dome." He pointed at the sky and everyone gazed up, including me. The number of dead birds stuck on it was too much, their blood staining the transparent cage. "I tried asking him nicely," he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it, "to return our city to normal, but he refused."

The crowd booed, looking like they were ready to tear me into pieces. I gazed at each face until I spotted someone I recognized. Chyner.

I hadn't been at work since Shiver's attack. And now that they had revealed I was responsible for the dome, there was no way for me to get back on her good side. I would miss her stories about cheating on her husband while still claiming she loved him, and there was no way she would leave him.

Chyner looked away from me and gazed at the ground. It stung a bit. Now that I was whole, I realized I had enjoyed her company. She was funny, caring, and mostly forgiving. She was like an aunt I never had growing up.

I looked back at the other members of the crowd and saw Charly Graves. It wasn't surprising she was there, being the face of the peculiar division and all. She looked better than when I last saw her in Broken Bank, although her right hand was in a cast and white bandages covered her left. Her swollen face would return to normal soon.

"Some of you may not know or remember this man," Captain Tombstone said, his hand grabbing the back of my neck. "Let me help you with that." He looked at someone in the crowd—I couldn't tell whom exactly—and nodded at them.

A holographic screen appeared above the crowd, and they gazed at it. A video started playing, showing me hiding in an alley, keeping an eye on something. I was wearing my original suit, looking nervous as hell while my fingers drummed on the red brick wall.

With the crowd occupied, Captain Tombstone leaned closer to me and said, "You think you can expose the church and me? We're the law around here. We can do whatever we want to whoever we want, and there's no one to stop us. You're dying today." He looked back at the screen and began providing commentary. "As you can see folks, there's Trey, aka Bolt, waiting to attack one of our beloved priests."