-Chapter 5-
-POV William Jasper-
Furious about Calvin's sudden shift in behavior, but having managed to calm myself down, I decided to go see him.
Because, no matter how tough he tried to act, he was still just a kid.
Once I got to the door, I hesitated for a moment before opening it, as I heard Calvin throwing up on the other side.
I sighed, relieved I'd had the presence of mind to check on him. Then I knocked on the bathroom door and asked:
"Hey, you alright, kiddo?"
The sound of vomiting stopped.
Then I heard the faucet turn on violently, just a few seconds before the door opened and Calvin stepped out of the bathroom.
"I'm fine. Just something that didn't sit right," Calvin said as he opened the door, his face soaked with the water he had splashed on himself.
'He's not fine at all,' I thought, watching him. Even though he was trying to fake it, it was painfully obvious that he had been shaken by everything that had just happened.
'Because of what he did,' I added silently.
"We need to talk," I said, glancing into the bathroom where Calvin had locked himself for the past ten minutes.
"Hmm," Calvin replied, trying to stay composed. But deep down, I knew he had an idea of the questions I was going to ask.
"Go ahead, what did you want to talk about?" he said in a neutral tone, while I had briefly drifted into my thoughts.
Such a neutral tone... as if the world wasn't burning outside, as if the dead weren't rising to become monsters like the ones in the sci-fi zombie movies he used to love watching on TV or playing on his console.
"The first thing I want to know is: where did you get those guns you're carrying?" I asked him directly, challenging him with my eyes not to lie.
Faced with his impassive gaze, I felt the need to add, "Because they're not mine."
Calvin stayed silent for a moment, meeting my eyes. But eventually, he couldn't keep his cool.
"What do you want me to say?" he asked, slightly annoyed, though still respectful.
"The truth," I said bluntly, because that's all I wanted from him… the truth.
"I found them in a closed gun shop. I took weapons and ammo before coming back to find you. Because the police and the army are overwhelmed and will continue to be. We can only rely on ourselves," Calvin said, locking eyes with me.
'He's not lying,' I thought, surprised.
That wasn't the answer I was expecting.
Hearing my son talk like it was nothing… like it was necessary… I couldn't help myself.
I lost my temper.
"You stole?! You're a thief?! I didn't raise you to become some petty thief!" I yelled, furious.
But the little rascal didn't even have the decency to let me finish. He interrupted me, rolling his eyes:
"Yeah, so I could become a respectable man, a patriot…"
"Don't interrupt me!" I shouted, raising my voice at him.
Calvin narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything.
I had done everything to keep him on the right path.
But ever since I lost my leg, he had developed a deep resentment toward the military and everything related to it.
'A constant source of arguments between us,' I thought, remembering how many times I had tried to convince him to enlist.
'He's a good kid… but he always does things his own way. And now he's crossing the line,' I thought, pulling a plastic bag out of my pocket.
---
-POV Calvin Jasper-
"I want you to explain why I found this in your room," my dad said, pulling out a plastic bag containing all the drugs I had stashed.
'SHIT… FUCKING SHIT,' I thought, fuming inside at the old me for leaving everything behind.
I thought no one would go through my stuff now that the world was ending.
But of course, it had to be my dad.
I was about to make up a lie, but he cut me off:
"Don't even try to lie to me."
I took a deep breath, snatched the bag, and shoved it into my satchel.
Then I let loose everything the old Calvin had always wanted to tell his dad so he'd just back off:
"Look, I know what you think, but I did it because we didn't have a cent back then. And yeah, it was easy money—better than breaking my back for minimum wage or risking my life for a country that would toss me aside the second I lost a leg and became dead weight."
That last part was personal.
He had lost his leg to a mine, and racked up debts just to get treatment.
Debts that had dragged us down for years.
'Which forced the old Calvin to "work" to help the family.'
"Why did you do it!!?" my father shouted, furious, before letting out a sigh full of disappointment:
"You were a brilliant young man, with a promising future. Why would you do something like this? We always kept you from going hungry, shielded you from our financial problems."
I shook my head.
"I started dealing to help make ends meet. But I kept going by choice. Because I didn't want to live a miserable life just because..."
"Because I did," my father said, full of disgust, like I wasn't worthy of him.
"That's not what I said," I replied as I walked past him and started down the stairs.
"No, but that's what you think. And that's worse," he said, turning his back on me.
I came face to face with Madison, who was staring at me like a hawk.
I cursed silently.
If she had heard everything, she'd soon figure out the connection between me and Nick… and I needed to stick with them to survive.
'Once I figure out how my superpower works, I'll do whatever I want… I'll be king.'
---
-POV Nicholas Clark-
"I hope he's okay," Calvin's mother said, watching him storm out into the garden. We hadn't heard what they were arguing about, but his father's shouting had been loud enough.
"I'm gonna go talk to him," I said, standing up.
But before I could reach the door, I found myself face to face with my mother, who grabbed me by the arm.
"Nick, I need to talk to you."
'Oh no…' I thought. I recognized that tone.
The tone that always led to arguments.
"Can it wait? I need to talk to Cal," I said, trying to avoid the conversation.
"No, it can't," she said, dragging me toward the kitchen without giving me a chance to argue.
"So, what's going on, Mom?" I asked, resigned.
"Is Calvin your dealer?" she asked.
Her question took me by surprise.
I knew it was gonna be about something uncomfortable, but not that.
I frowned, caught off guard, and as I was about to deny it, she continued:
"I don't even know why I'm asking. I heard him admit to his father that he was a drug dealer. I instantly made the connection."
"It's not what you think…" I said. But she wasn't even listening anymore:
"I don't get why you keep trying to cover for him. And especially why you invited him here. He's a dealer… your dealer."
"He's my friend," I said firmly, cutting her off. Then I added, "He helped me out more times than I can count. He always sold me pure stuff, never cut it, even when I didn't have money."
"Do you even hear the crap you're saying?" my mom said with a sarcastic smile, cupping my face, looking into my eyes like I'd lost my mind.
"This guy is not your friend. He's your dealer. He needs to pack up and get out of here as soon as possible," she said coldly.
"And he believed in me," I said, cutting her off again, annoyed that she was trying to separate me from the only person who still understood me.
She wanted to reply, but I didn't give her a chance:
"Look, I know you're angry at him—and I get that. But think about it. His dad was in the military, and they both know how to handle weapons. Those are valuable skills in a world like ours."
She frowned, ready to counter. But I didn't let her:
"We need them, and you know it. The world is falling apart. The dead walk among us. You told me yourself—your coworker turned into one of those things."
She stayed silent for a few moments, weighing her options, then sighed:
"We'll stay with them… for now. But if I feel like he's a bad influence on you, he'll have to go."
I smiled, kissed her cheek, and said:
"Thanks, Mom. You're the best."
I heard the sound of an engine getting closer.
I let go of Mom and went to look through the window.
A car had just pulled up.
Travis got out, along with some people we didn't know… his little family.
'His other family.'
---
-POV Calvin Jasper-
I watched from about ten meters away as Travis helped an old man and a clearly injured woman out of a 4x4.
Once they were out, Travis hugged Madison, who rushed into his arms and kissed him.
She had been so scared that he'd died trying to save his ex-wife that she was on the verge of crying in front of her kids.
'Let's hope that puts her in a good mood. Because if she tries to kick me out, we're gonna have a real problem,' I thought while reloading my two mags, sitting on the curb, not planning to get kicked out without a say.
---
-30 minutes later-
"Alright, Maddy and I decided we're not leaving tonight. We'll head out tomorrow…" Travis said, looking around the room like he was the tribal chief.
'Okay, that was kinda racist,' I thought, snickering internally. I liked borderline jokes like that—no real harm intended.
'Not that I can make those kinds of jokes anymore in this life,' I added, glancing at my skin.
I turned to my father, who was listening closely to Travis, trying to gauge him.
He didn't oppose Travis's decision.
He understood the logic in leaving the next morning.
But he frowned, clearly bothered that he hadn't been consulted.
That was his military side—he had held rank, given orders more than he received them. A trait—if not a flaw—that he had carried into civilian life.
N.A : How are you?