Chapter 96: ANOTHER OLD FRIEND

Kai walked quickly down the corridor toward the teachers’ room. His steps were wide—not running, but not leisurely either. His phone was still in his hand, with Leonhard’s call just ended, and his mind was already half gone to another place—to the old base, to Leonhard, to whatever was happening there. But there was one thing he had to take care of first. One thing he couldn’t just leave.

He pushed the teachers’ room door open. Several teachers lifted their heads—some smiled, some nodded, some returned to their work. Leina sat at her desk—in the corner of the room, near the window—with a stack of papers in front of her and a pen in her hand. She lifted her head when Kai approached, and her smile appeared—a warm smile, the one she usually gave to anyone who came.

"Mr. Kai," she said. "What’s wrong?"

Kai stopped in front of her desk. "Ms. Leina, do you have time for the last class period?"

Leina blinked. She stared at the papers in front of her for a moment—like she was counting—then she shook her head slowly. "Sorry, Sir. I have to finish this report before going home. Is there anything I can help with?"

"Yes." Kai took a breath. "I have an urgent matter. I have to leave now. Can you substitute for me teaching Class IX for the last period?"

Leina looked at him—for a long time, with eyebrows slightly raised. "Substitute for you? But—" she paused for a moment, "—isn’t Ms. Lydia here? Isn’t she your assistant?"

"Lydia is on leave for a few days," Kai said. "Her mother is sick. She has to take care of her."

Leina nodded slowly. She looked at Kai for a moment—with slightly narrowed eyes, with an unreadable expression—then she let out a breath. "Alright," she said. "I’ll substitute for you. But—" she paused again, "—is this matter of yours important? You look... not like yourself."

Kai looked at her. "Important," he said. "And urgent."

Leina nodded. She didn’t ask further. "Alright. I’ll go to Class IX after the break ends. You don’t need to worry."

Kai nodded. "Thank you, Ms. Leina."

He turned and walked to the door. He didn’t look back. He didn’t see Leina still staring at him—with an unreadable expression, with the pen still in her hand—and he didn’t hear Leina let out a soft breath after the door closed behind him.

Kai left the school building—past the corridor starting to fill with students leaving their classes, past several teachers standing in front of the teachers’ room, past the school gate already open. He hadn’t reached the end of the street when he saw a black car stop at the side—with dark windows, with the engine still running, with someone in the driver’s seat he recognized.

Gunner.

Kai approached that car. He opened the passenger door and got in—and the car immediately sped off before the door fully closed.

"You’re fast," Gunner said. He didn’t turn—his eyes focused on the road, his hands on the steering wheel, and his face—a face Kai had known for years—looked older than he remembered. There were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that hadn’t been there before. There was a little gray at his temples that hadn’t been there before.

"You said it was urgent," Kai said. "What happened?"

Gunner let out a breath. He pressed the gas pedal deeper—the car sped faster, passing several vehicles, passing several red lights. "The old base," he said. "Leonhard’s house. There are people coming. Not people we know. Not guests."

Kai looked at him. "How many?"

"I don’t know exactly. But—" Gunner paused for a moment, "—they came from a direction they shouldn’t have. They know the entry route. They know the guard positions. They know—" he shook his head, "—they know too much."

Kai furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

Gunner turned to Kai briefly. "You know that old base, right? You know how to get in. There’s no road leading there. No map. No directions. Only people who have been there know where that place is."

Kai looked at him—for a long time. Then he felt something cold spreading through his chest—something that wasn’t fear, wasn’t anger, but something deeper. Something he didn’t want to admit.

"You’re saying—" Kai paused for a moment, "—someone leaked the location?"

Gunner nodded slowly. "I don’t want to believe it. But—" he let out a breath, "—there’s no other explanation. No outsider could find that place. Not without help from the inside."

Kai looked at him. "Do you suspect someone?"

Gunner didn’t answer right away. He stared at the road ahead—with his hand still on the steering wheel, with eyes staring straight ahead—and for a few moments, no one spoke. Only the sound of the car engine roaring softly, and the sound of horns from other vehicles occasionally heard.

"Kai," Gunner finally said. His voice was softer now. "You know the Grim Reaper better than anyone. You know we’re not a group that can be bribed. We’re not a group that can be bought. We—" he paused for a moment, "—we’ve been through too much together. We’ve lost too many people together. We won’t betray each other."

Kai looked at him. "But?"

"But—" Gunner turned to Kai briefly, "—we’re also human. We have weaknesses. We have—" he stopped again, like he was searching for the right word, "—we have things we love. Things we don’t want to lose. And sometimes—" he let out a breath, "—sometimes those things can make us do something we never imagined."

Kai didn’t say anything. He just sat there—with his hands on his lap, with eyes looking at Gunner—and he let those words sink in.

"Do you suspect someone?" Kai asked again.

Gunner shook his head slowly. "I don’t have proof. I don’t want to accuse without proof. But—" he paused for a moment, "—I can’t stop thinking about it. Who was the last to visit the base? Who knows its location? Who—" he shook his head again, "—I don’t know."

Kai looked at him—for a long time. Then he turned to the window—toward the passing buildings, toward the people walking on the sidewalk, toward the sky starting to turn orange—and he let out a breath. Haaah.

"You said you’re just the driver," Kai said. "What do you mean?"

Gunner smiled faintly—a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "I can’t join the fight, Kai. I—" he paused for a moment, "—I’m not like I used to be. I don’t have—" he lifted his hand from the steering wheel for a moment, like he was searching for a word, "—I don’t have that fire anymore. You know? The fire that let us fight without fear. The fire that let us—" he let out a breath, "—the fire that let us forget we could die."

Kai looked at him.

"Now," Gunner continued, "I have a wife. I have a child. I have—" he smiled, more sincerely this time, "—I have a reason to come home. I have a reason not to die. And I—" he turned to Kai briefly, "—I don’t want to lose that."

Kai nodded slowly. "I understand."

Gunner looked at him—for a long time. Then he smiled—a smile wider than before, a smile that made his face look a little younger. "You’ve changed, Kai."

Kai looked at him. "Maybe you’re right."

Gunner laughed softly—a short laugh, without weight. "I remember before—you would never have said that. You would never have admitted you changed. You would just—" he shook his head, "—you would just stay quiet and keep walking."

Kai didn’t say anything. He just stared at the road ahead—toward the old base getting closer—and he let Gunner continue.

"We’re almost there," Gunner said. He slowed his car—pulling over to the side of the road, under a large shady tree. "I can’t take you any closer than this. If they see this car—" he paused for a moment, "—they’ll know we’re coming."

Kai nodded. He opened the car door and got out—followed by Gunner—and they stood there for a moment, under the tree, with the old base visible in the distance—with smoke billowing from several windows, with the sound of gunfire occasionally heard, with shadows moving among the trees.

"Kai." Gunner walked to his car trunk and opened it. Inside was a large bag—black, with a worn zipper—and he opened it. "You’re not going to fight empty-handed, are you?"

Kai stared at that bag. Inside were weapons—various types of weapons, from small-caliber pistols to rifles that could blow a head off without a trace. He looked at Gunner for a moment—then he reached into that bag and took two pistols—one for each hand—and one AR, with its magazine already attached.

"Thank you," Kai said.

Gunner nodded. He closed that bag and put it back in the trunk. "Be careful, Kai." He walked to the driver’s seat and got in—the car engine started—and he rolled down his window. "If you need help—" he paused for a moment, "—you know my number."

Kai nodded. "I know."

Gunner smiled—that last smile, a smile full of something he couldn’t say—and he drove away. The car disappeared around the corner—and Kai stood there alone, with two pistols in his hands, with an AR on his shoulder, with eyes staring at the old base in the distance.

He let out a breath. Haaah. Then he spoke to himself—in a soft voice, in a voice almost inaudible.

"Let’s end all of this."