As the carnage around them slowly dissipates, the driver and
passengers of the car are surrounded by the agonised screams of an
infant in great pain.
“Oh no,” Fiona says, anguish and panic creeping through her.
“What have we done? What have we done?”
Raven grabs her by the shoulders. “Look at me,” he says, shaking
her roughly, “We've done nothing. None of this is real.”
The screams are all around them, deafening and inescapable.
Fiona shrugs to break Raven's grip, but he holds tight. “We've
harmed a child, you stupid man,” she cries in his face.
He shakes her again, even more violently this time. “I'm not a
man,” he says sternly, “You'd do well to remember that right now.
If we've done anything here, we've harmed the idea of a child, which
is being used to distract us. Now focus, can you see the market?”
