Conner sat there. Just sat. Minutes (or hours of days) went by and all he did was stay still. He decided if he was going to die, he would die fighting. He ran upstairs and grabbed his dad's shotgun. He down the stairs, and when he walked for the door, realized he was stuck. He then saw something that gave him hope. The window
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Conner ran for the window, opened it, and hopped out. The second he entered the outside world, he wished he hadn't. Blood flew around from bullets, bodys lay from stab wounds, and Grant was shoving his way to victory.
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He rushed past fights and arrived at the wall. It was guarded by 3 guards. They swapped to their ARs and aimed at Conner. He pulled out his shotgun and fired randomly. To his surprise, all 3 guards dropped dead. Conner ran into the nearby forest. He ran past the tower guard's body, past the cottage--that had already been stormed--and just kept running. Eventually, when he was miles away from Graver, he slammed his back on a tree, and slided into a sitting position.
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He was the only survivor of a Resistance masacre.
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All of the Gravertown residents were thrown in the middle. 32 children survived, along with 3 adults, who's child wouldn't stop crying without them. All 35 of them were loaded into trucks, and shipped off to Resistance HQ.
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"How many?" Grant asked.
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"709. 35 sent to our headquarters, that makes 744 out of 745," a guard said. Grant stopped breathing.
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"744 out of 745?" he asked. "Did I hear you wrong?" The officer shook his head. Grant practically had steam coming out of his ears. He stared a dagger at the officer and looked at the soldiers, covered in blood and ash.
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"Call Cred, tell him to bomb the city!"
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