"I don't belong with you," said Montag, at last, slowly. "I've been an idiot all the way."
"We're used to that. We all made the right kind of mistakes, or we wouldn't be here. When we were separate individuals, all we had was rage. I struck a fireman when he came to burn my library years ago. I've been running ever since. You want to join us, Montag?"
"Join you in doing what?"
"We're book burners, but not in the way you would think. We read the books and then burn them so they won't be found. We used to use microfilm, but someone could always find it and turn us in. No, we memorize the books; keep it in our heads, so no one can suspect us. I am Plato's Republic. Mr. Simmons is Marcus Aurelius. We all are Aristophanes, Mahatma Gandhi, Guatama Buddha, Confucius, Thomas Love Peacock, Thomas Jefferson, Mr. Lincoln, and so many more. Have you got anything to offer?"
"No. I thought I had some of the Book of Ecclesiastes and maybe Revelation, but it's gone now."
"Nothing is ever gone. Simmons has this method here where we can recall anything that's been read."
"That's impossible!"
"Will you join us?"
Montag paused. All eyes were on him, waiting for an answer. He contemplated all of his options before coming to a decision. "I can't. I need to find Faber. And Millie, poor Millie. I have to make sure I didn't cause anything even worse."
"Alright," sighed Granger. "You can stay with us for the night, and we'll see you off in the morning."
At exactly five o'clock in the morning, according to Montag's digital watch, the men saw him off on the bank of the river.
"Why do you trust me not to tell your secrets?" asked Montag.
Granger laughed at the notion. "Have you seen yourself lately? Running from the government, escaping Mechanical Hounds; anyone like us would figure out your true intentions. The government doesn't particularly care about us anyway. We're just a few outcasts who still value books for strange reason. We'll all die out eventually, and then no one will particularly care what they're doing. You, on the other hand, you're a dead man. You wreaked havoc on their perfect little system, and you got away."
Montag simply nodded in agreement.
"Be careful. Don't get yourself killed," Granger warned.
"I'll be careful. Thank you."
With that, Montag turned and walked towards the faint glow of the city. He had a new mission. No more misguided attempts at planting books and sending alarms. He would do this the right way.
Without a warning, the jets flew over the city Montag had just reached. It was the war, beginning but already reaching its ending. Bombs, dropped in a thunderstorm of fire, rained down on the city, causing devastation everywhere.
The bombs ceased, the jets flew back to their homes, the smoke rose, and the air cleared. Revealed lying amidst the rubble was Guy Montag, the fireman turned book-lover. He never got a chance to visit Faber or Millie, never got to make up for his past wrongs. His legacy was now ashes.
