Los Angeles, USA.
EARLIER THAT DAY
The McCall family had gone on their normal family treat. Their tent was pitched well on a small cliff from where they viewed nature. This had become a family culture since they did it on fixed days. According to Mr McCall, such activities help in bonding the family tighter. It was for this same reason that the man had to acquire a relaxation house in the outskirts of the city. So, this treat of theirs helped bond the family more. Peter McCall had gone deeper into the woods when the strange feeling came. He couldn't say what was wrong but he definitely knew something had gone wrong or was about going wrong. Self intuition was a weapon his father had taught to never overlook. When the feeling persisted, he started withdrawing from his hunt. He walked gently and increased pace at intervals before he heard it. A gunshot had gone out! His heart flew. Who could it have hit? His father? Or maybe mother? Another gunshot went out accompanied by a human cry. There is no way he was going to mistake the voice. It was his mother's. He sprang out , clutching his pre-charged pneumatic air gun tightly. It fires a projectile of at least thirty caliber in diameter and at least one hundred and fifty grains in weight with a minimum muzzle of eight hundred feet per second. This much could still offer great protection though he was physically outnumbered. The cry came again. This time, it was his dad. He increased pace. On bolting out, he looked at the expanse of a grassy land. Across the other side, he could see the bus leaving the environment. His gaze traveled to where he had left his parents. They were gone. Obviously, they were on the bus. He rushed to the cliff where their tent was pitched. No life remained. The tent had been ruptured and overturned. The unfinished pizza formed litters within the perimeter . His eyes darted about till it caught something on the floor. Someone had left a message for him. He squatted to take a close look. "Home" was uncarefully but skillfully written on a rock with blood. A drop of thick sweat fell from his forehead. Who could have done this? He rose to his feet and settled on his BMW R1250 RT and zoomed off. In the next twenty-two minutes , he was driving into their relaxation house . The black bus was openly parked like that of a visitor. He parked some feet away from it in a more enclosed point and made his careful walk closer to the house. He paused . The visitors were leaving the house. But his parents weren't with them . They settled into the bus and drove off. But definitely not all of them. One of them mounted his guard outside the house. Probably, another man would be in. After making his calculations, he concluded his parents would still be in there. He , without hesitation came out from hiding and fired at his opponent with the pneumatic air gun. There was a grievous cry. That felt good to him. His parents had cried that same way earlier on. He aimed at the entrance. Two more emerged and were welcomed by his bullets. He now headed in. The sight was a bizarre one. Sprawled on the floor were his parents seeming lifeless.
" Father! Mother!!" He shouted and ran to them. He checked for a pulse. His mother was gone. Tears started crawling down his cheeks without permission.
" Son." His father called out weakly.
" Father! Father!!" He crept to him, holding his head up. " I will take you to the hospital right away. I must save you two."
" No...no.. " the man managed to utter. He struggled to say something. But blood had filled his mouth .
" What are you saying?" Peter leaned closely with his eyes closed. When he opened it, Mr McCall was no more.
" Father! No!!" The tears poured out. He took his phone and placed the call. " There's no way you both are going this way. I will save you. " His eyes met with something familiar to his memories. On the floor, his father had inscribed the word "home" again. It then occurred to him that the relaxation house wasn't what his father referred to in the first place. Just then, the sound of a speedily approaching vehicle hit the vicinity. He looked through the glass windows. Two buses came to a stop with well armed men stepping out of it. The gunshots must have signaled them. He eyed the pneumatic air gun. There was no way he was going to make it with that alone. If his parents had wanted one thing at their death, it would be for him to escape this death wave without much harm. They were closing in . If he doesn't make a move, he will be trapped in their hands. He quickly wiped the blood inscription on the floor with his handkerchief, traced his steps backwards and positioned his feet well for an escape move. Just as the enemies were walking into the home, he sprang on his heels , jumping and bursting out through the window . The sounds of shattering glass filled the place. He mounted his motorcycle and drove speedily as fast as he could away from the vicinity. But the mystery never escaped him. Not even once did he hear a gunshot following him. Were they purposely letting him escape? That was a question he couldn't yet figure out its answer. Whatever it was, he would find out soon. But for now, he had only one destination in mind— home.
In the next one hour, BMW R1250 RT was slowing to a stop in the garage of the central house in McCall's estate. No one could possibly have followed him into this place. Unless maybe the person had a death wish. He walked out of the garage and walked through the compound to the main building with eyes closely observing everywhere for two main reasons— to ensure that the security systems were in place and to absorb the memories with his parents. Midway to the building, a mighty statue came into view . He couldn't have forgotten. That was a statue of his father presented to his father by him in collaboration with the populace. He stopped short and observed the tall structure of about a hundred and fifty-three meters. The gigantic nature was made to represent his father's gigantic doings. He continued walking. Another thought came. Maybe his father already knew of his death. Probably, his mother too. As devout christians who practice well in faith, knowing their death shouldn't be anything special. Even normal people usually feel the air of something good or bad before it happens. Through biblical times till present times , many remarkable people foresaw their departure. He wouldn't be surprised anyways since his parents passed everything to him exactly two weeks before their death. But how was he going to handle his father's wealth? He sighed. A more serious thought came. He stopped again. Who were those people? Why would they want his parents dead? Or was it really him they wanted? But if they had wanted him dead, why did they not fire at him when they saw him making his escape? It was becoming obvious they wanted him alive. But why kill his parents? And why would his father refer him home twice at the point of death? He would find out soon. He walked to the front door of their mansion. The security system of the house captured him. An audible click followed. Then the automatic door slid to one side, making way for him to enter. He walked into the sitting room with his eyes tightly closed. This was not the right time to view things that would bring memories that would weaken him alive. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and ignored every other thing in his environment and walked straight to the adjoining room. That was their first library. There were ten thousand books ranging from children's writing workbooks to children's stories and poems to academic books and other higher books covering different fields and eras of history stored there . He looked round. After observing the room, he walked down to the last bookshelf on the middle column . The shelf leaned on the wall. Pulling out a thick textbook from the middle row, a small button came into view. He put his right hand and pressed the button with his thumb. After some time, there was a little click from the shelf. Peter breathed heavily. The last time he was here, it was trial and error. Some years ago, his father had brought him here. It was the only time he had come close to entering that inner room. For years of his existence, he didn't know a room like that existed in the library he always visited. No wonder his father always told him to finish every book in there. Ten thousand books seemed impossible to finish. Now, he understood what his father said to him as a child that when he finishes the whole book there, he would stumble onto a secret that would change his life. The last time he was there with his father, he was told to prepare for the day he would gain access into the room. The day his biometrics would match the door would be the day his growth will be complete. Since then, he tried the lock on a daily basis but each attempt failed. The time had now come. With what has happened, he had no doubt whatever was in there could change his life forever. The shelf rotated as he walked in. It swung into place again. The room was just a small size room of just a few feet yet it held the power to change his life forever. The only sense of life in it was the milk paint on its walls and a small cubicle at one corner. He went to the cubicle and began surfing its contents. Opening the first drawer, he saw a disc with an inscription on the seal tape attached to it. He took it out and read the words …. "TO MY DEAR SON" . He could feel his breath seizing. The voice of his dad resounded fresh in his head. He stuffed it into his side pocket and checked for any more information. The other two drawers contained every certificate of his father's business willed to him. The tears came again. He dabbed slowly at it . It was time to leave. The documents could wait. He closed the drawers and left through the same way he came. Soon , he was outside the house and headed straight to the garage. He looked at the line of cars and finally made his selection. He went for Avalon. When he was in, he played the plate and listened attentively. It was his father's last message to him.
"..... my dear son. Whatever it is you are about to hear is the truth you must embrace. We all grow to embrace our destinies. Sometime ago, after I had acquired wealth and a limited success with your mother, we had nothing else to live for since God had not decided to bless us with a child of our own. We decided to lead a philanthropic life. But then, you came into our lives. And I discovered that you were my destiny. Our destiny. You gave us the joy of Parenthood. And beyond parenting, you gave us a responsibility that we will never regret even in the face of death. Sometime ago, a friend of mine came to me for help. As a kindhearted man who hardly turns back on strangers in need let alone a friend, I considered offering that help. But there was just one problem at that time. It was a difficult request that my friend had asked for. He brought with him a very little boy who according to him was not even connected to him by blood. This is strange right? I felt the same way that day. I would have loved to help the poor child but I battled with myself after hearing the story behind his predicament. I declined but my wife insisted that we bring in the boy. Till today, I still believe her persistence at that time was because of our childless marriage. She believed it was our door into parenting. I accepted the boy to make her happy. But as time passed, I never ceased to worry about the future this young would bring upon us. But the intensity of my worries was subsided by the good tidings that filled my home. My success became unlimited. Joy never ceased in my home. At this point, I had no other choice than to accept the boy as my own with my heart. This still does not mean I in any way let go of the memory and thought of what was behind this child. Son," he paused for a while, then continued. " Son, that boy from years ago happens to be you. You are the boy from years ago who walked into my life and gave me another reason to live. Protecting you. Guiding you. Doing all I can to keep you from whatever is out there has been my calling. I have no idea when you will get to hear this message. I might be alive and I might be long gone. But never cease to forget in this life that you are my son! Our son! We will lay down our lives for you anytime. We love you. And that's what matters...." Peter stopped the note from completion. At this time, he was sobbing greatly inside Avalon. Remembering that Avalon was not just any car but one specially given to him by his mother on his twenty-fourth birthday made the tears flow more. His father always admonished him to never shed tears easily. But some circumstances were just uncontrollable. How on Earth was he going to live freely bearing at the back of his mind that he was the very cause of his parents' death? After some minutes of grief, he decided to place a call . The authorities needed to follow up this case and track down whoever was behind this. On a second thought, he remembered his father spoke of them laying down their lives for him. For what reason exactly? Who could be behind all this? He picked his phone and dialed 9-1-1 , the Los Angeles Police Department emergency line. One ring….two rings… three rings… someone picked . But his mind had been cut off from the call.
"Hello .. this is …. "
He was not paying attention. His senses had caught a movement. But nothing was there . He stepped out and looked around. No sign of life. They had sent all workers on a break while they spent time at the relaxation house. All workers except the cleaners and the securities were totally absent. He entered Avalon again and shut the door. His breathing now increased. He took his phone and disconnected the 9-1-1 call. Then, he checked for the security cameras linked to his phone. East was clear. The West was clear. North was clear. Now , checking on the southern perimeters, his heart rate increased. It was clear. His peace was restored. He flipped back to Eastern perimeter again. Then, he saw it. Someone was in the compound. He dialed the security post. No one picked. He wondered. Fear gripped him tightly now. Just then, looking at the side mirror of his car, he could see someone racing towards him. That wasn't any of their workers. His hands hit the ignition and his tyres screeched hard as he gained acceleration speeding all along the driveway way of the vicinity. The gates opened and he sped off onto the estate roads and off into the city. But something was wrong. After fifteen minutes of a speedy drive, he kept on seeing this one blue sedan catching up with him. There was no way they would have followed him. In the next thirty minutes, he had not lost sight of them. With his heart beating endlessly, he remembered one tool of his mother. He began to say his words of prayer. His peace was restored for a while. But the chase continued. After three good hours of non-stop escapedrive, here he was standing with total oblivion about what his next step was to be. He sighed heavily and observed the environment. The filling station had a restaurant beside it. He decided to go fill his stomach a little and reserve some for his journey's next route. He needed energy. Walking sluggishly to where he parked his car, he inspected it properly to be sure everything was okay. Then, he changed his direction and headed into Conan's tasty foods. Some kilometers away, a blue sedan was searching for its prey.