Afterglow. The Justification of Chaos - стр. 31
I clearly remember that I closed the door to the bookstore when the last two soldiers returned from the pharmacy. I looked again at the dark hall through the glass and shuddered. Terrifyingly quiet and empty. I went to Sam, who was sitting at a distance, hiding among the shelves; I sank down on the floor next to him while the soldiers tried to save the dying girl.
About ten minutes later, it was over. The girl had died. Robert spoke something over her body, closed her eyes. He cut a strand of her hair for some reason. Took the dog tag off her neck. The rest dispersed in silence, trying not to show how deeply affected they were. The second girl in the group, a short blonde with a pixie cut, embraced the man with a mop of dark curls on his head. And Sam and I… As terrifying as it was to admit, the girl’s death stirred no emotions in me. Inside, there was only emptiness. Detachment. A comatose state. I had seen too many deaths and blood in these past twenty-four hours.
Then Robert came over to us. He squatted on his toes in front of us, clasping his hands together and exhaling heavily.
“Well, I have a little time to talk,” the man said tiredly, looking directly at my face, while my gaze froze on the patch that appeared under his unbuttoned jacket. Silver snakes were woven into the fabric on his T-shirt in the area of his chest… My eyes widened, and I opened my mouth, gasping. “My name is Robert Sbort, and I’m the leader of the group…”
“The Gorgon,” I whispered, raising my eyes to Robert. “You’re the Gorgons, aren’t you?”
The lamps buzzed ominously above our heads. I listened intently, trying to catch any sound. My vision was blurred. It felt like if someone spoke half a tone louder now, I would scream out of fear and horror. The girl's body lay on the cash register table. Her hand hung over the edge of the counter. Blood dripped from her fingers onto the floor.
This can’t be happening to me. This isn’t real.
I looked at Robert, who was explaining how his group had ended up in this city, but my gaze kept drifting to the small embroidered head of a Gorgon on his T-shirt.
You might not have cared about politics, the military, or listened to the news and read the newspaper summaries, but you couldn’t not know about The Gorgon.
"The Gorgon." A symbol group. A ghostly, almost mythically legendary group, whose predecessor three hundred and six years ago helped the First Three rise to power. A small, elite organization, directly subordinate to the Three and only the Commander-in-Chief. The names of the participants were always kept in the background; they didn’t exist as individuals – there was only "The Gorgon" and the Gorgons. They devoted their lives to military service, to this group, giving up their past and future. The most difficult operations, the hottest battle zones – the name "Gorgon" was always there. And no one knew whether there was more truth or rumor surrounding these fighters, whose professionalism and faith in their ideology were spoken of almost with reverence.
“…this plague started spreading rapidly in the northern part of the region a couple of weeks ago. The authorities tried to convince everyone that everything was under control. Maybe it was at first, but you can't seal off entire cities and borders, “Robert paused for a moment.” I was working with my team in the "Cold Calm" area; now fighting has flared up again there.”