******
Sergei regained consciousness in a dark room. He stirred, and let out a grunt of pain from the wound in his midsection. A hand clamped down over his mouth, and he glared upward and struggled. He relaxed slightly when he saw that it was Isaac crouched above him with a finger pressed over his own lips. The hand came off of Sergei's mouth, and he whispered, "Where are we?"
In a low voice, Isaac responded, "Somewhere safe. I stumbled across you unconscious and brought you with." Sergei's hazy vision gradually adjusted to the objects in the room, and by the rows of shelves and books, he noted that they were in a library. A few other soldiers were in the room. Some were lying down, some watching out windows. Sergei tried to sit up. He hissed breath through his clenched teeth at the pain and settled back down.
"Don't try to move," Isaac whispered.
Sergei didn't usually appreciate orders, but this seemed wise.
"You're one lucky son of a bitch," Isaac muttered. "The bullet seems to have missed your organs," he shook his head, "but you've lost a lot of blood, so take it easy."
"What has happened?" Sergei asked.
Isaac smiled. "Rick wanted chaos, and that's what he's got. We've got fires scattered around the city and panicking Citizens flooding the streets. Riots have broken out, and I believe there's more than a few looters." The smile faded. "Organized Inquisition and what's left of their reserve military finally responded, so we all cleared out and hid. They've got their hands full trying to deal with the panic, so they haven't been able to try and root us out yet."
"Where are my other men?" the injured man asked.
Isaac shook his head. "Don't know; you were the only one we found." Sergei clenched his teeth. "Most of them probably hid." Isaac tried to be reassuring.
Sergei's eyes went wide, and he bolted upright, gasping at the pain but not slumping back down. "Piotr, where is Piotr?!" he demanded. "Did you find him also? He was in the alley with me."
"Don't take this the wrong way, but who the hell is this Piotr?"
Sergei looked confused. "You have met him, have you not? He is my brother. He is young and…" Sergei stopped speaking, watching Isaac's frowning expression. He settled back down. "Foolish," he muttered, moisture forming in his eyes.
Isaac didn't say anything, only looking at the wounded man with mild curiosity.
For several moments, Sergei remained quiet and in contemplation. Finally, he said, "I forget, sometimes." He sadly shook his head. "It is better than remembering the truth." He looked up at Isaac. "Most times, I know he is not really there. I still see him, but I know that he is not real." He gave a chuckle, which morphed into a wheezing cough.
"What happened to him?"
"He was killed. It was my fault." Sergei stared at the ground.
Isaac raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"
Sergei turned his gaze back towards Isaac. "Does there need to be more than that?"
Isaac didn't answer. The two men held a long, uncomfortable silence. Sergei broke it. "What are we supposed to do now?"
Isaac shrugged, "There's not much that we can do anymore. Our part in this is pretty much finished. Now we just have to hope that Rick didn't screw up his job, or none of this will have meant a thing."
Uprising Page 98
