Hey guys! Seems like many of you have been busy… I'm guessing that exams and stuff have prevented you guys from reviewing the last chapter, but that's fine. If you guys wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate hearing some of your thoughts on my last couple of chapters if you haven't expressed them already. But to those that did review, you have my utmost gratitude. Thank you to: Jallex(nice to meet you), trevorarnett32, A happy reader, Clytuis, FierceDeity24, DeathDrayanD, AresTheunderlander, Jacob0503, Dragonsboy(don't worry, Ripred is still in this story), a guest reader, mcmlxxvii and last but certainly not least, Alpha Death.
This chapter is deliberately more light-hearted since there have been some people who have expressed how they dislike how dark this story has become. It honestly pained me a lot because one particularly faithful reader and reviewer left because it has become too dark. If you have similar thoughts, please express them to me as soon as possible so that I understand better how my readers think.
Some of you have pointed out parallels with Captain America: Civil War. I assure you that I had planned the nature of the Gregor vs Ripred fight long before I watched that movie, so it's not going to be ripped off that movie. On another note, I should probably clarify that Gregor vs Ripred will not be the focal battle of this story. It might be the most epic, but it won't be the main focus.
Oh and if you haven't done so yet, vote in the poll which is on my profile page.
This chapter is from Calvin's point of view.
Chapter 13: Old Days
"I wish Mom was here," Calvin said softly as he stared at the placid ocean wistfully. The waves gently rolled up the seashore, creating a soothing sound which tamed the aggressive anxiety that arose in Calvin's little chest every single time he thought of his mother.
He didn't need to see the hidden gems that were concealed underneath the rumbling, thunderous surface of the sea. The surface was beautiful and dazzling the way it was. His mind quickly got lost in the rhythmic percussion of the waves lapping against the sandy shores. He grinned to himself quietly as his face felt the touch of the warm glow from the last few orange rays before twilight was consumed by the darkness and the stars.
The darkness wasn't too bad as well. The stars shone all the more brilliantly against the black skies, and there was always the faint feeling of nostalgia and hope lingering in the background. The stars were all the light they had before the sun rose the next day.
But the darkness frightened him sometimes. The fear of the unknown and of being unable to see anything… a fear which Calvin had fought so hard against as a toddler. It was only after years of sheer grit and determination that he had driven that fear away, but eventually it was still deeply rooted in his heart. The gripping cold of the night would always haunt him in the remote wastelands of his mind. The inevitable sinister laughter could always be heard every time a shadow fell over Calvin, whether it was on his bed or down the street.
But the night was always darkest before the dawn. Even though all good things would come to an end, even though all beautiful things came crashing down to reveal its long-running charade, there was still hope. Because all good things that went would be replaced by other good things eventually. Even if one day the immortal legacy of his father somehow disappeared into irrelevance, his own immortal legacy would shine in his father's place.
Or would it?
"I wish Mom was here too," his father replied, unable to stave off the emotion which had filtered into his voice.
"I wish she had seen what I had become," Calvin continued, "I wish she saw me as the Gunner saving innocent lives. She'd be proud, right? Whatcha think, Dad?"
"She'd be proud," his father agreed as his eyes glimmered with tears of pain and sorrow, "But I hope you know I'm proud of you too, son."
"I wish you'd seen what I've become, Dad," Calvin replied sadly, "I wish I didn't have to do this alone."
"I'm sorry for letting you down, son," his father's head dipped down in embarrassment. "I never wanted to leave you alone in this world. It's cold and dark and… It's not a world that cares for a ten-year-old boy who lost both his parents. And I'm sorry I left you in that world."
Calvin remembered his friends telling him that the end of the world was coming when he was still in elementary school. He must have been Grade 6 or something when they rushed up to him, frantically rattling away all the natural disasters that were supposed to ravage the earth bare.
They told him that buildings would come crashing down, they told him that the ground would split right open… That was what the end of the world looked like to them.
They didn't know that the end of the world was over for Calvin.
It started the day Mom came back from Africa with a bad stomach, and it ended the day his dad's coffin was lowered into the grave.
To them, the sound of the end of the world would be the collapsing skyscrapers and roaring hurricanes which would devour New York. The sound of the end of the world for Calvin was the priest's sermon as his father's coffin was buried under six feet of soil.
"Why did you go?" Calvin asked so softly that the breeze sounded like an ear-piercing scream in contrast.
The bright tears in his father's eyes now eclipsed the stars which glittered across the night sky. "Calvin," he began slowly, "I… You know I had to do it. I couldn't let them destroy the Underland. There are good people down there, Calvin… you've seen them, right?"
"Why were their lives more valuable than yours?" Calvin asked miserably as he felt his heart begin to break all over again. "Why were they more valuable than MINE? Remember what we spoke about, Dad? Remember after Mom's funeral? Remember how you promised me that you'd stay with me till I grew up? We had so many plans, remember? College, then running the company together, then going on a beach holiday together. Remember how you told me you'd play with my kid and teach him to grow up like his dad?"
"I wanted to, Calvin," his dad replied in that melancholic tone of his, "I swear I wanted to. But there are times when we need to sacrifice ourselves. The moral arc of the universe does not bend towards justice on its own, Calvin. Sometimes Man has to bend it back ourselves, and that's what I tried to do."
"We could have grown up a happy family," Calvin responded forlornly. "We didn't have to go to Zimbabwe to meet the poor kids. We could have just given them money and be done with it. We didn't have to visit them and cause Mom to fall sick. And you didn't have to go up against Operation Claw. We could have lived as a happy family, Dad. The three of us together. Just the way we were meant to be."
"Forgive me," his father choked out disconsolately as tears trickled down his cheeks. "Forgive me, Calvin. I wanted to… I wanted to protect all of you. I never wanted to hurt all of you. I'm so, so sorry Calvin. I'm so sorry."
The stars now faded away into the desolate shade as darkness reigned. Calvin felt tears slipping out of his eyes slowly and crawling down his cheeks. "I don't blame you Dad. I would have done the same in your position. It's just… It's just that we could have been happy. There was a time before all this when we were happy and at peace. And I've waited so, so long Dad. I've been waiting ever since Mom passed away. I've been waiting for that same happiness and peace to come back. But it never comes back. And the worst part is that I don't think it ever will."
The dark skies wept tearlessly as his father replied softly, "That day may never come. But even if you never see it, you must carry on doing what you know is right. You may not find happiness with me ever again, but you can find happiness through protecting others like you. There are good people out there Calvin, if you choose to look for the goodness in these people."
"There isn't much good left on this earth," Calvin said bitterly, "Neither aboveground nor underground."
"That may be the case," his father responded, "But even if there's just that little bit of good left in this world, it's worth fighting for. And you must fight for it, so that a ten-year-old boy somewhere out there won't have to see his father and mother die before he can tell them that he loves them. Calvin, I know I've said this before, and I will say this again- The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."
Calvin bowed his head down and mumbled, "Am I really a good man?"
But when he looked up, his father was already long gone.
Calvin opened his eyes amidst the intensifying glare of the awakening sun. The brightness and heat almost jolted him up as he slowly took in his surroundings. He found himself leaning against the steering wheel and his heart skipped a beat when he recognised that he was in his car. But then he quickly realised that his car was still parked in a corner parking lot, not spinning about wildly on the road.
His memory slowly creeped back into his consciousness and details of the last few hours became clearer and less hazy. He remembered gathering a whole bunch of equipment he was going to need- the grenades, the devices, the keys, the night-vision goggles… and of course, the kevlar armour that he had bought a couple of years ago. He hadn't brought it down to the Underland, and it had been sitting in one of the drawers of his arsenal, having pretty much been rendered obsolete following Calvin's decision to stop fighting.
The kevlar armour was just for protection. He hadn't brought any guns with him because he still stood by the principle that killing was unacceptable and just downright wrong. But if he was going to come up against gunfire, then he was going to need some kind of safeguard so that he wasn't going to sustain injuries easily or lose his life in the process.
As his murky vision began to dissipate and as everything began to come into focus, Calvin sluggishly reached out towards his night goggles. Seeing as this was still the wee hours of morning, he doubted that he would have to use it. Better to be safe than sorry, though.
By the time he had left the mansion, darkness had already settled down on New York City as the roads began to suffocate from traffic jams as nocturnal teenagers and adults roamed around the city to enjoy the New York nightlife. Calvin still felt stirrings of frustration in his gut as he waited in the jam, but that was the price to pay for living in New York. Rushing over to Virginia was impossible when New York's roads were so congested and packed like sardines.
Calvin recalled staring up into the night sky in frustration as horns blared across the street and the bustle of Times Square rumbled across the roads. His eyes skimmed the ocean of darkness, fighting desperately to see even the slightest hint of a glimmer. But New York's skyscrapers and lights had blinded its people from seeing the natural beauties scattered across the universe. Calvin always looked back on stars with strong feelings of sadness as they always triggered memories of times with his dad and mom. The good old days of sitting together in the Maldives, with his mother wrapping her arms around him and his father trying to point out the different constellations to him.
Calvin snapped out of his obsessive reminiscing and stared ahead at the I-95. It was almost time to get back on the road and finish the last couple of hours on the road to Virginia. As groggy as he had been driving through the night, he was absolutely sure he had driven through Washington D.C., which meant that he was pretty close to Richmond and therefore, only a couple of hours away from Gregor's Virginia farm.
Calvin's heart began to palpitate as fears for Gregor's family began to unveil themselves in front of him. He thought he saw a family of four crossing the highway, before a hail of bullets flew through the air, tearing through their bodies and leaving them strewn across the road, their bodies mutilated by the shooting…
Calvin shook his head firmly and forced himself to calm down. If Snake was holding them hostage to get to Calvin and Gregor, that means they were still alive. They were counting on Calvin to keep his cool and save them. If there was ever a time to become absolutely cold-blooded and rational, it was now.
His heart nearly burst into an exhilarating sprint again when he thought he saw Vikus hobbling out of a restroom, his eyes blazing with fury and vengeance as he made a beeline towards Calvin's car. But the vision of Vikus disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, with the old man's bloodthirsty eyes replaced by the mild, gentle complexion of a weathered man in his forties ambling towards his car.
Calvin took in a deep breath. No matter how hard he tried to push them away, the visions of Vikus never failed to distract him everyday. Somehow, Vikus' image would be imposed or plastered on normal people, frightening Calvin in every dark corner or when he was isolated. He wondered quietly to himself whether Vikus was haunting him by pretending he was there when he wasn't. That was some next level haunting but it wasn't unfathomable. Five years ago he hadn't even known about the existence of the Underland. Was it really so difficult to believe that Vikus was taking revenge for losing his life at the hands of Calvin?
No… Vikus didn't do that. Calvin had known Vikus for a while. The man believed in hope and kindness and the goodness of the human spirit. It was just too far-fetched to believe that someone so good and so optimistic would become a bitter spirit haunting Calvin at every turn in his life.
But for all of Vikus' goodness, Calvin still wasn't so sure. There seemed to be a nagging feeling and sentiment within him that if Vikus did have the chance… For one, Calvin had seen good men fall. Gregor, Mareth… hell even Conrad was a good man at one point. Who knows what Vikus had become in the afterlife?
He barely knew Vikus anymore. Two years had passed, and memories of Vikus had become nothing but blurred images stored in Calvin's convoluted mind. Even if he once knew Vikus as a kind man, he couldn't trust his judgement anymore. Not when this complex and intricate world had altered his hopeful view of society and the people around him. Not when justice was an abstract term that invoked the slightest feelings of positivity and nothing more. Call Calvin a cynic, but it was the cold reality that had taken him years to realise. Nobody cared whether you were a man of principles or values. The world only cared for you as long as it needed you. Beyond that, you were worth nothing more than the trash found littered down a forgotten alleyway.
Where was justice when an old father was abandoned by his son and left on the street, crippled and homeless? Where was justice when children were being slaughtered mercilessly in wars spread out across the globe? Where was justice when the single mother of three was retrenched for no good reason? Where was justice when the kid who was bullied in school was driven over the cliff and committed suicide? Where was justice when the very system put in place by the government was corrupt or inefficient, and criminals could saunter out of court with an arrogant smile etched across their face?
Where was justice when a group of assassins murdered his father for trying to save a whole civilisation?
Calvin started up the engine of his car and gritted his teeth. The philosophical pondering had to be postponed, because the lives of Gregor's family counted on it. He reversed out of the parking lot aggressively, ready to send this car hurtling down the highway towards Virginia…
… when he slammed into another car driving by. Calvin's seatbelt stopped him from being flung out of his seat, but he still jolted forward from the impact of the crash. Breathing heavily, he unbuckled his seatbelt with a slight groan, before opening the car door and staggering out into the open.
A crowd of people froze in their tracks and gawked at the scene, unavoidably drawn to the possibly morbid sight of a car crash. Cursing under his breath, Calvin shrugged off their penetrating gazes and strode over to the other car, which was engulfed in swirling smoke. Calvin's heart leapt when he saw the driver's limp body slumped to one side, looking like his neck had been snapped by the impact of the crash. But then his body twitched slightly, and with a slight stretch, the driver opened the door and walked out onto the carpark.
The first thing Calvin noticed was his height. He stood at about just over six foot one, and while Calvin himself was pretty close to six foot tall himself, this man clearly had an advantage of height over him. While Calvin was broad-shouldered, he could tell that this man was pretty muscled as well, even if his body language suggested he was haggard and a little disinterested in life.
He wore a short-sleeve T-shirt, revealing the pulsating veins that ran along his arm like streams. His jeans were tattered and they literally looked like they were taken from a dump. Grime and dark, mouldy patches were dotted all over the jeans, which made Calvin feel slightly nauseous. His nose wrinkled up in disgust as the foul stench of garbage and waste entered his lungs. Covering his mouth politely so that the man wouldn't have to see him gag, Calvin continued to take in the man's odd appearance.
Calvin's eyes settled on the most striking detail about the man. A black bandana was wrapped around his face, covering any definable features. He wore a pair of shades, which made the whole situation much more unnerving. Calvin always felt that men wearing shades were not meant to be messed with, even if that line of logic was just plain ridiculous.
The man's imposing build was complemented by the black duffel bag he was carrying with his right arm, which was all the more surprising considering the impact of the crash didn't seem to startle or faze him at all. It just seemed as if he had… expected? Was that the right word? He seemed to expect the crash to happen.
The man leaned over to take a glance at Calvin's BMW 5 Series. Calvin followed his line of vision and his gaze settled on the back of his car, which had taken a heavy dent but was still relatively in good condition compared to the mysterious man's Mini Cooper, which looked like it had been driven through the fires of hell at least ten times.
The man then looked up at Calvin and nodded. Calvin frowned in confusion. What did that nod mean?
The man that grabbed the car plates at the front and back of Calvin's car and ripped them off, before snapping them into several pieces one by one and dumping them in the boot of Calvin's car. He then proceeded to tear off the car plate number of another innocent car before tossing it into the boot of Calvin's car, but without tearing it into pieces this time. That action elicited a shocked gasp from the onlookers, who began to whip out their iPhones to take a video of the scene. "Hey!" Calvin snapped at the man, "What the hell was that for?"
The man then calmly strolled over to the front of Calvin's car, before opening it and plopping his body into the passenger's seat. He then tossed the black duffel bag onto the backseat and took off his bandana. He followed up by taking off his shades and lying back in the car. Calvin opened the door to the driver's seat and got in hurriedly, ready to take the man out with a solid punch…
… before he held back his punch, legitimately shocked by the person sitting right next to him.
"I don't suggest you do that, Calvin," Mr Carter said nonchalantly, with a tinge of amusement trailing off his voice.
"What the hell is going on?" Calvin asked incredulously.
"We can change our car plate number when we get to Richmond," Mr Carter told him coolly, "But we better start moving fast, before the cops catch up with us."
"COPS?" Calvin almost screamed, "The cops are chasing us?"
"They're chasing ME," Mr Carter informed him, "Fortunately for us, I don't think they realised I escaped prison until this morning, which means we have a slight head start over them. But we have to start moving NOW, or our head start will be gone in the next couple of hours."
Calvin revved up the engine and maneuvered his way around Mr Carter's damaged Mini Cooper, before driving out of the rest stop and back onto the highway with the engine roaring away. "This must go from 0 to 100 in at least five seconds," Mr Carter remarked with admiration.
"Five and a half, actually, "Calvin corrected him, "And before we continue talking about this car, would you mind telling me WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON?"
"That's a very important question to ask," Mr Carter replied with a hint of mild derision, "I'll just go straight to the point, shall I? I escaped from the prison facility to help you."
"A couple more details would be nice," Calvin replied with an equal amount of sarcasm.
"Mr Bennett rushed over to pay me a visit once you had left," Mr Carter explained, "He told me something about you rushing over to Gregor's Virginia farm. He might have added the word 'impetuous' somewhere."
"Yep, that's Mr Bennett," Calvin responded with a humourless chuckle.
"He also mentioned that he wanted to get me out of prison so that I could rush over to lend you a hand," Mr Carter recalled, "He rightly assumed that someone who has been out of the game for far too long would not be able to handle a troop of trained assassins."
"I'm fine," Calvin growled, "You shouldn't have come. You're only gonna get yourself hurt."
"Nonsense." Mr Carter dismissed Calvin's suggestion with a wave of his hand, "Prison has kept me in tip-top condition for a long time. I can handle myself. The question is whether you can?"
"You're being uncharacteristically humourous and irritating," Calvin replied, "You knocked your head this morning or what?"
"Something like that," Mr Carter answered with a grin, "I couldn't wait for all the paperwork to be done up before I could be released with Mr Bennett's help, so I had to escape through some unorthodox means, which involved the toilet, a couple of friends, and some pipes. It was quite a rush."
"No wonder you literally smell like shit," Calvin realised, making a face at the thought of Mr Carter crawling through all kinds of waste, "Did you bring a change of clothes?"
"In the duffel bag," he replied, gesturing at the black bag sitting in the backseat, "Brought some other equipment too, just in case. But judging from the bunch of toys I see you've brought, I don't think my equipment will be necessary. Looks like you've stocked up well in my absence."
"I've stocked up for moments like these," Calvin explained grimly, "When it truly counts."
"So much for you turning away from a life of violence," Mr Carter commented, "And if I may make an observation, it's that you've become uncharacteristically sullen recently."
"It's Gregor," Calvin tried to muster a joke, "His brooding has rubbed off on me."
"Clearly," Mr Carter agreed distastefully, "Not that it's something to be proud about."
"Where's Mr Bennett now?" Calvin asked him.
"He's probably handling all the questions from the press and the NYPD. I don't know how he's going to explain your disappearance, but he's a smart man. He'll figure something out."
"Damn it," Calvin sighed, "I wanted him to go to the Underland to warn Gregor, not hang around with the paparazzi."
"He didn't have much of a choice, lad," Mr Carter answered, his native British elocution overpowering his usually hybrid accent for a second, "He's got to handle the disappearance of the world's youngest billionaire. If they can't even find him, people will start becoming suspicious, and that's when your reputation takes a hit."
"Mr Bennett generally has a more reticent personality in the public eye," Calvin said worriedly, "He always lets me take the spotlight and it was the same when Dad was in control of the company. You think he's capable of dealing with the media and the pressure?"
"That man is more competent than most," Mr Carter said confidently, "If there's anyone to deal with your sudden absence and the attack on your home in a professional manner, it's him."
"Hmm," Calvin grunted, unconvinced by Mr Carter's reassurance, "He had a heart attack three years ago and hasn't really recovered. Now he's limping around with an injured ankle. How much can he take?"
"He can take anything for you, Calvin," Mr Carter replied with a soft sigh, "He's pretty much been your father for eight years. He'll do anything to keep you safe and happy. The man will be up and about as usual in no time. For you, he'll move faster than the speed of light to make sure he's got your back."
"Speaking of speed," Calvin continued, "How did you catch up with me?"
"I'm a better driver than you, Calvin," Mr Carter snorted, "Of course I'll be able to travel down these roads faster than you. You go everywhere on a private jet, but we common folk have to get used to driving a vehicle. And I was helped by the fact that you were snoozing in that rest stop."
"You're a better driver than me?" Calvin scoffed, "Oh please, you've been locked up for three years. Were you playing GTA in prison or something?"
"That's rude," Mr Carter shot back, "Just because my hair is greying doesn't mean I've lost my touch on the steering wheel. You should see yourself drive. You drive just like a female cripple."
"That was sexist and inappropriate," Calvin sighed out loud, "We're not in England anymore, Mr Carter. Anything may fly there but down here you'll get in trouble for saying something like that."
"Just a form of expression lad," Mr Carter replied, rolling his eyes, "You politically correct bastards can't even take a joke these days."
"Anyway, what's the plan when we get to Richmond?" Calvin asked, suddenly much more self-conscious about his driving.
"Well, we've gotten rid of your car plate so that people don't recognise this car as yours," Mr Carter reasoned, "So that's a start. I tore off someone else's car plate number, but we're not going to use it. We'll find another driverless car in Richmond and we'll swap that bloke's car plate with the car plate we have which is still intact. That should confuse the rozzers when they come searching for us."
"Rozzers?" Calvin asked, confused by Mr Carter's British terminology.
"Cops," Mr Carter corrected himself, "They'll be back on our trail soon but we'd have a different car plate number by then, so they should be pretty muddled up by the time we get to Gregor's home."
"You do realise by doing all of this we're making ourselves criminals on the run," Calvin pointed out.
"I'm sorry for dragging you into this, lad," Mr Carter said apologetically, "I'm genuinely sorry for doing this. But we don't have any other choice. I have to protect you, even if you don't think it's necessary. You can't handle them on your own."
"It's just Snake, Mr Carter," Calvin said, unable to prevent himself from tensing up when mentioning the name of the mercenary, "He'll be all alone. He's just waiting for me to take him on."
"If he's a rager like you say he is, then you'd be foolish to take him on alone and expect to survive."
"I'm not expecting to survive and live through this, Mr Carter."
Mr Carter turned to Calvin in alarm and said, "Excuse me?"
"You heard me right," Calvin sighed, "The main objective there is to get Gregor's family to safety. If I have to distract him and sacrifice myself while doing so, then I'll do it."
"Oh, for Christ's sake!" Mr Carter swore exasperatedly, "Why the hell would you throw your bloody life away so rashly?"
"Gregor's sacrificed a lot for me," Calvin replied firmly, "It's time I made a sacrifice for him."
"Not your life, you blithering idiot!" Mr Carter shook his head fiercely, "You don't have to throw it all away like this. It'd dishonour whatever sacrifices Gregor made for you."
"We all die eventually Mr Carter," Calvin said wearily, "Whether it's today or tomorrow, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that we do what is necessary to protect whatever good is left in this world."
"You sound just like your father," Mr Carter observed, "Not that I always agreed with your father, but… The resemblance in your thinking is uncanny."
"You're not the first to say that," Calvin replied.
"So… when the cops come looking for you… how are you going to explain yourself?"
"I'll worry about that another time," Calvin answered, "We have more important things to focus on. If we somehow make it through today, then we'll consider all our options."
"That sounds about right," Mr Carter said with a nod, before adding, "Don't show Snake any mercy, Calvin. You might have sworn off killing, but you have to make an exception for him. From what I've heard, he wouldn't blink an eye before pulling the trigger on either of us. It's him or us. He won't care about the compassion you show to him."
"That's what makes it so important," Calvin argued, "It's compassion that separates me from him. We're no better than the bad people we fight if we kill like they do."
"If you won't do it, I'll do it myself," Mr Carter declared.
"Suit yourself," Calvin responded with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He wouldn't admit it out loud to Mr Carter, but he was really glad his mentor had gone through hell to join him. Calvin couldn't imagine how he'd take on Snake without the help of Mr Carter.
His slight loss of concentration nearly sent the car skidding onto another lane, almost causing an accident. He instinctively swerved hard on the steering wheel to put the car back on course.
"And that's why I'm the better driver," Mr Carter said smugly.
So much for Calvin being glad to be with Mr Carter.
I'll be honest, this chapter is deliberately more light-hearted towards the end because the next few chapters can get really dark very quickly. Hopefully you enjoyed the small bits of banter between Mr Carter and Calvin. Their relationship has evolved over the years, cos back then Calvin was young, immature and impatient, so Mr Carter had to be more strict with him. But now that Calvin's all grown-up, this really gives me the opportunity to explore their relationship further since they're more open with each other.
Favourites and follows are greatly appreciated. Reviews are also encouraged!
Question: The next chapter is called: To the Death. Predictions for that chapter are encouraged! Guess whose perspective it is in that chapter, and guess what happens!
