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Montag wasn’t told exactly where he was to meet Faber when he reached the city, he had just hoped that he’d find the old man, somehow. Montag still had the man’s clothes on his back as he stood there, remembering. Remembering Faber’s house, his miniature television, his liquor. Montag wondered if the old man had left before the Death engulfed the city.
He remembered Mildred’s face as she saw the pile of books that had been dropped from the ventilator grill. How her breathing picked up and she looked at Montag like he was a man she had been afraid of all her life. Had she left the city to find somewhere to stay? Had she been in a beetle when the Death came?
He remembered Beatty’s movement as he burned. Montag couldn’t picture his face no matter how hard he tried. The Captain’s screams echoed in his mind, still.
He remembered the man who the voice from the sky from the television screen had claimed to the viewers at home that he was Montag and he was not to move. A sinking feeling crept its way into Montag’s stomach. Now what was it about that man that worried him so? He squeezed his eyes shut and tried, not without some reluctance, to picture the man’s expression. It most definitely was twisted with fear. Montag thought about the man’s hair, it had a distinct whiteness to it… And the glimpse of the man’s eyes had a pale blueness that he could just about place them onto—
No, Montag thought, it couldn’t have been, could it? No, no, no! He opened his eyes and placed the heel of his hand on his forehead. He had gotten Faber killed hadn’t he…? He shouldn’t have gone to see the old man while he was being hunted by the Mechanical Hound and the television stations. Montag was foolish to think Faber’s ruses would trick the Hound. And now it had killed the man who was to teach Montag…!
But how could he know for certain that the old man was dead?
But how could he know for certain that the old man wasn’t dead?
Montag slumped down to the floor and leaned against the wall behind him. How foolish had he been to think there’d be no price to pay for his actions? He shut his eyes tight as guilt overwhelmed his senses. He felt so much for the old man who he met in the park. The old man who had seemed so willing to give himself up, at least then.
And, for the first time since he was a child, Montag began to cry.