Burke ran back up the street they'd came down a life time ago, the sound of the crowd fading behind him. Two gorillas ran after him some distance away, dark leather uniforms gleaming dully. The faint sound of gunfire came to him from the crowd scene, and he pulled up short and listened, heart sinking at the implication. One of the pursuing gorillas pulled a pistol from its holster and fired. Rage flooded through Burke at the sight - a rage born of the shame he felt, abandoning his friends. But he'd had no choice.

Yeah, tell that to his conscience.

He turned and ran again, barely catching sight of two gorillas who appeared far back of the two already pursuing. They were astride horses. He broke into a flat-out sprint, ignoring the startled citizens of the city, ignoring their outcries, taking every turn, cutting around the backs of buildings and avoiding the piles of garbage awaiting disposal at the end of the day. Sweat ran in rivulets down his face and body. His dark hair hung in damp waves. He was horribly thirsty, and against his will felt himself slowing. Looking back, he was relieved to see no sign of his pursuers. Ducking around the next corner, he slowed to a walk, trying to blend in with the human servants walking behind ape masters. He scanned the street and determined that he'd somehow made his way back to the university area where he, Alan and Galen had done their best to convince Pergis of the danger he was in. Was that only this morning?

He was tired and frightened, but anger simmered just beneath the surface. Since Liska's death it had been a constant, low-grade buzz in his head. Such was its depth that he no longer remembered how he felt without it. It seemed important to keep up a charade, to protect his friends from the depth of his fear, his anger, his failures, so he worked hard to be his old flippant self. He made jokes. He was sarcastic, he laughed. They thought he was feeling better, except for the heightened bursts of temper.

As many things faded in importance, so his friends became more important. He thought he knew how to make things right for them all. He would retrieve the disk for Alan, and give him back what had been taken from him - hope. His dreams of reunion with his wife and son.

The one thing his friends wanted that he couldn't give them was himself as he was before. So he pretended, understanding that his old self could not exist until he rid himself of the anger and guilt. If then.

What he needed was retribution. He awaited the opportunity.

The sound of hooves came to him, growing steadily louder. A mounted gorilla.

He found his anger useful now - it goaded him, gave him the strength to run again. He barreled around a corner. Rickety wooden booths with assorted wares and food were set up in rows in front of the rounded stone buildings of a small market square, catering to the university crowd. Most of the booths were attended by humans, selling the wares of their ape masters. The area was strangely empty, Burke guessed because of the protest.

Hoofbeats clattered noisily behind him and fear rose up in his throat. Running down the row of booths, he flung himself abruptly behind one as the gorilla came around the corner. The startled humans attending the booth scattered and Pete knelt, trying to calm his breath and think what to do next.

He listened as the horse slowed to a walk, hooves echoing against stone. "Where is he?" came the graveled voice of the gorilla, bludgeoning the near quiet. Pete heard the distinct clunk as the gorilla chambered a round. His heart raced, and he tried to quiet his breaths as he sucked air into his lungs. He couldn't get enough air. The gorilla was very close.

The rifle roared and someone screamed in agony. Another voice wailed, and continued its eerie sound as the rifle boomed again, deafening Burke. The roof of the booth that protected him exploded. Burke flinched and hunkered down into a tight ball. His breath accelerated harshly as panic struggled to overtake him. Burke scanned the area around him. He got ready to make a run. Frankly he didn't think he'd make cover before the gorilla shot him in the back, but he didn't know what else to do. After the first shot sounded he knew there was very little time until the ape cavalry arrived - so to speak.

Again the rifle fired. He buried his head in his arms, protecting his face as the rest of the booth disintegrated into chunks of wood. The bullet tore through the air next to his bowed head.

He was completely unprotected now. The booth was in pieces. Pete blinked as particles flew upon the air and pushed himself slowly to a crouching position. The gorilla sat astride his horse, brutish face smirking, enjoying himself.

Pete surveyed his surroundings, eyes stopping at the sight of a woman lying a yard or so in front of where the booth had been. Her arms were flung out towards him and her rough dress was hitched high upon her thighs. Fear and pain rested on her face and she looked at him, sightless eyes begging for help. The bullet had hit her in the chest. His sorrow was immediate and immense.

The gorilla put his rifle away, yanking his pistol from its holster. Taking his time, he sighted down the barrel and fired as Burke threw himself to one side. He hit the ground rolling, grabbing at a sizable chunk of wood from the remains of the booth. He flung himself behind the next booth over as the gorilla fired again and again.

They'd killed another person trying to capture him. She'd been too close. That was all. She was in the way, she was human… she was expendable. The rage bolted through him, electrifying, singing in his blood. He hefted the chunk of wood in his hand and stood, grinning at the ape. The ape hooted and hopped up and down in his saddle, frenzied. Pete feinted to the right and the gorilla fired repeatedly. As the gorilla corrected his aim, he slung the wood with deadly accuracy. The heavy chunk slammed solidly into the gorilla's hand, and he roared in pain as the gun fell from his fingers to the ground below. Pete ran towards it.

The ape dismounted, reaching for the gun. Pete launched himself at the gorilla, crashing feet first into his ribs. The ape fell to the ground, flinging his arm out and gripping a handful of Pete's shirt with great strength, pulling him abruptly down to earth. Pete's skull crashed into stone. He heard a loud thud in his head, and immediately his ears began a loud high ringing. The world went white, then gray around the edges, and he rolled over, curling helplessly into himself.

The gorilla laughed, and the laugh ended abruptly in a deep cough. Grimacing at the sudden sharp pain in his ribs, the ape fell back.

Struggling, Pete sat up. He cried out at the pain and retched miserably, head pounding in great pulsing waves. From the corner of his eye, he looked over at the gorilla, who couldn't seem to sit upright. Probably broke a few ribs. Spying the gun on the ground, Pete crawled over to it. He picked it up. He put both hands to his head, trying to keep it from exploding, gun still in hand.

The next time he looked up the ape was towering over him, reaching for the gun. Burke jerked the gun back and looked into the gorilla's eyes.

"Bastard," he whispered. He thrust the gun into the gorilla's face and pulled the trigger. At the loud report of the gun, he moaned in pain, dropping it.

He pulled himself upright and started walking.