The doors of Riga station glowed from a campfire the guards had gathered around.
"Hey!" Nikolai shouted, waving to the guards as he and Anna drew near.
The guards looked up from their drinks, and one with a dog pointed to Nikolai.
"Hey! Nik! It's you, isn't it! I'd recognize your ugly mug anytime! Where have you been?" he shouted, walking over to Nikolai.
"Vic!" Nikolai shouted back cheerfully. "You forgetful son of a bitch, I told you I was headed to find fortune!"
"Well, guess that didn't work out, did it?" Victor said, chuckling. Then he noticed Anna. "What's her name, Nikolai, and does she have a sister for me?"
"Her name is Anna, and she can speak for herself." Anna said, poking her finger into Victor's chest.
"Ooh, I like her." Victor said, grinning.
Victor's dog ran up and jumped on Nikolai's chest and started licking his face, almost knocking him down.
"Ah, Blood, I missed you, too." Nikolai said, rubbing the dog's head and scratching him behind the ears.
"So what brings you back, Nikolai?" Victor asked.
"Business." Nikolai said, pointing to Anna. "She's looking for her boyfriend. His name is Kristoff, you know him?"
"Nyet, never heard of him." Victor said, shrugging.
"I know who to talk to, Nikolai. Why don't you go catch up with your father?" Anna asked.
A shadow fell over Victor's face.
"Nikolai... About your father... He, uh... He killed himself a few days after you left. I'm sorry, bro."
Nikolai felt the tears building up.
"Oh."
"No one has moved in since. He left a... A note and some items for you, in case you came back."
It was getting harder to fight the tears.
"I left them in your room, under the floorboards." Victor said.
Nikolai looked to Anna.
"Go talk to your people. I'll meet you back here in 15 minutes." he told her.
"Alright." she said, nodding.
Nikolai headed back to his old home.
He tried to ignore the holes from the buckshot that decorated the walls as he went to his room. Under the floorboards was a leather bag, tied shut with dogtags. His father's dogtags. Inside the bag were a few military rations, a box of military-grade rounds, and a pistol. On the top of the pile was a framed picture of his father, and his mother, holding Nikolai as a baby, from before the war.
Nikolai started crying then, lying on the floor and curling up into a ball.
A while later, he stopped and picked himself up. He didn't have time to cry right now.
He wiped his face clean, tied the dogtags around the stock of his rifle and put the rest of the bag's contents in his pack.
"Are you okay, Nikolai?" Anna asked, from the doorway.
"How long have you been there?" Nikolai asked, embarrassed.
"Long enough. Let's go."
"Where are we going?" Nikolai asked.
"The surface." Anna said, turning to leave.