Chương 113: 26 - LEAVE THE PAST BEHIND

T'balt Ferrier always kept his grandfather's gun on him in the first twelve hours of Zero Day. He usually never needed it, but a lingering caution always told him not to leave it behind. Just in case that man ever showed up again. In a single motion, he snatched it from his waistband and aimed it directly at the head of Monan Ryker.

"I told you never to come back here," he said through gritted teeth. But though he aimed it at Monan, the gun was pointed at someone else. Cannon had stepped into the line of fire, puffing his chest like he used to do to people who were being unreasonable in front of T'balt.

"Listen, son, I don't know your beef, but you need to calm down, right now." Cannon stared down at T'balt like he was just some random street thug. T'balt wanted to slap the man and scream at him.

"What are you doing!? You know me! Why are you defending him of all people!?" But he chewed his tongue. One look into the wrestler's eyes said that the man didn't know him and didn't care what he had to say. Monan had gotten to him first.

"You don't understand?" That was all he could reasonably say.

"What kind of man brings a gun into a church and threatens to shoot someone in front of a young boy!?" Ellie shouted. She protected Acelin, who was staring at him fearfully. Monan had gotten to her, too. He thought of all people, Ellie would be immune to his tricks, but he should've known better. When Monan was around, no one was truly safe. He had to end this now. It didn't matter what they thought. They'd forget in a moment. There was a clattering on the floor, and a black pistol slid in front of his feet.

Everyone stared at it and looked back at Monan, who threw his hands up, palms out.

"It's alright," he said in his low-toned voice.

"The kid and I have history. Don't blame him for being a little twitchy." Monan nudged Cannon out of the way so he could be the sole one in T'balt's aim, and he whispered.

"You can pull the trigger if you want, but… I'll just come back till I say what I gotta say." The numbered tattoo was on his neck. He still got it every iteration. Now it said, "11, 700""I'm not here to make any trouble. Pinky swear." Monan continued, not bothering to hold up his pinky. T'balt lowered his gun, realizing that whatever this was, his best bet was to just get over with it so Monan could wander off again.

But when he did, Cannon stepped over him, sticking his hand out like he was a cop collecting contraband. T'balt handed him the weapon, simultaneously shaking his head in annoyance, and the tension in the room chilled.

"Oh, right," Monan said.

"I got you a milkshake." He grabbed a styrofoam cup sitting on one of the tables. It had one of those thick red straws sticking out of it. It was good to know that after manipulating his crew, Monan still had time to order takeout.

"I didn't know what kind of flavors you're into, so I got mango sherbet. Figured you were a fruity kind of guy." T'balt's jaw tightened.

"I'm good." Monan shrugged.

"Hey, kid." He gestured at Acelin.

"Sounds like this one's yours."

"Seriously!?" Acelin ran over to the milkshake and started slurping it up before it even left Monan's hand, and even got a pat on his head for his trouble. Monan stood straight, looking satisfied with himself. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and black jeans. Dark hair, as long and wavy as it had ever been, with a thick silver chain as a necklace.

"Say what you've gotta say, Monan. I've got things to do," T'balt said. Monan stared at him, looking a little disappointed.

"Yeah. Yeah. You guys chill in here. We're gonna step outside."

"Are you sure?" Ellie asked.

"I don't like the way he's looking at you." Monan waved her off.

"Don't worry, doll, I've got this." T'balt didn't know what his face looked like, but after hearing Monan call her doll, it must've looked thirty times worse. They stepped outside, Monan sipping on his own milkshake. He did it for a while, sucking out every drop and picking out the cookies from his cookies and cream.

"That's good. You know you should've taken it. A milkshake is one of those things you can only get right on a fresh save file." He leaned up against the window of a truck, a truck that was once filled with bullet holes from them trying to kill each other.

"You were supposed to leave me and the church alone. Are you going back on your deal?" T'balt said sternly.

"Relax. No one's hurt. In fact, I went through the trouble of gathering up your little posse for you. And they're ripping and raring to go whenever you are."

"You expect me to be grateful. I'm not continuing this life, with you infecting their heads." If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"Wow. You'd really rather kill yourself than just see what happens, huh?" He finished off his milkshake, sitting on top of a trash bin instead of in it.

"Haven't you ever heard of forgiveness, T. And I thought you were big into church."

"You have the gall to say that with a straight face after everything you've done to this church."

"No. It's pretty hilarious. I'm just not laughing… yet." Monan smiled, staring up at the top of the three-story church.

"I mean, look up. Looks fine to me. I haven't done a thing." That's when T'balt's anger boiled over. He seized him by the collar of his black t-shirt.

"You're gonna tell me what you're doing here right now, and then I'm gonna kill you. So we can start this over already." Instead of being intimidated, Monan looked bored by the threat. He rolled his eyes.

"I heard from Uriel that you finally made it to Graceland." T'balt let him go, remembering everything that happened in Graceland, not realizing that Monan obviously had a way to stay in contact with the other Redeemers.

"I did. So what of it?"

"I was actually looking to head over that way myself. It's been a while for me, so I thought I'd hitch a ride with you. That way we could have a good ol' fashioned family reunion."

"You can forget it. You're not staying anywhere near me or the others." Monan rubbed the side of his head, exasperated.

"I don't think you're getting the point here." His voice got serious.

"You got me once out of like what, fifty? A hundred? If you really want me to be a problem again, I've got the time." He leaned back, relaxing into a casual mode.

"But I'd rather not, so I'll tell you what." He pushed his palms together, pretending like he was begging.

"I promise I won't get in your way. I won't even equip any loot if it'll make you feel better."

"It doesn't," T'balt said flatly.

"Come on. Just roll with it. My real promise is that it'll be a good time." He stuck his hand out to shake. T'balt slapped it away.

"Don't pretend like you're giving me a choice." Monan smugly smiled as T'balt walked back into the church. Cannon caught him at the door.

"You guys good?"

"No..." T'balt forcefully walked past him.

"But I won't kill him. Not yet." Having another battle with Monan was something he still wanted to avoid. If that meant having to deal with him for one iteration, then that just was what it had to be. I didn't make him any happier about it. But he still had a job to do. Before they could leave for Graceland, T'balt needed to finish his Zero Day routine. He could never just leave the church without preparing them to survive. That meant a few weeks holed up at the Acron church.

It served several purposes: allowing him to gain the trust of Ellie and the others, save the people he'd grown close to, as well as a big chunk of Acron's population, and collect all the resources he needed for the journey. Akin to his word, Monan stayed mostly out of the way. Or at least he didn't cause any major problems. He didn't butt in on T'balt's way of running things. As far as he knew, Abbot Kilgrove and everyone there believed T'balt was the only Redeemer among them. So they listened to him and only him.

He set up the training, built the walls surrounding the place, assigned roles, and distributed loot to those who did best. It usually took him about two weeks to get to the church, to a place he was comfortable with, before taking off. Every day, T'balt had people watching Monan's every move, but he just pretended to be another lost soul, seeking shelter from the demons outside. No one thought anything different. No one except for Cannon, Acelin, and Ellie.

Though they still did their usual jobs without complaint, when they needed something, they didn't come to T'balt. They went to him. He was the one who got to them first. And they could tell, even if he didn't say, he was just as knowledgeable, if not more than T'balt was. And that drove him up a wall. So much so that T'balt decided this time, they would leave the church early. It had only been a week, and he was ready to take off into his grand ventures beyond.

But this time, there was no moment when the others decided to go with him for their love of T'balt. When he stepped outside, they were already in the car because Monan was already in the car.

"It's probably easier if I drive. I know a couple shortcuts." Monan said, son's glasses on, sitting in the driver's seat. Cannon was in the passenger seat, with his own sunglasses.

"I'm not a backseat kind of guy," he said when T'balt walked up. So for two hours, T'balt rode quietly in the back seat of their convertible with what Monan labeled a stinkface. That caught on with the rest of the car, and Acelin started calling him "stinkface T'balt."

"The next reset can't come soon enough," he mumbled. They arrived at a shoreline with a rocky beach. Nowhere close to the boat dock that German brought them to. They couldn't rely on him. The "Rescue German Casas" event didn't happen for a few more weeks. He was T'balt's only way into Graceland. So there was no choice but to go along with whatever Monan's was. Monan hopped out of the car, flipping up his sunglasses and looking around the water.

"You're not planning on making us swim, are you?" T'balt said behind him. There was a stop sign half-submerged in the ocean, looking like someone had ripped it out of the ground and thrown it there. Monan threw a rock at it, causing it to clink loudly. They waited a few moments and then splashed up out of the water. It was a fish man. The same fish man who escorted them last time.

"Oh. Who are you guys?" The man asked, flapping his fin-like arms.

"They call me Monan. Uriel told you about me, didn't he?" The fish man went stiff for a moment.

"Uhh, yes, sir." Without another word, he opened up the underwater passage, making an air pocket so they could walk down to another underwater bridge. The entire walk, T'balt shot the man his stink face. He'd likely been bribed by Corlander during the last iteration when he really worked for Uriel. That meant he had betrayed them for his own gain. He had to keep a note of that. Other than that, everything went smoothly.

The city was still being built, many of the buildings only halfway made, with a hundred people positioned in the streets preparing for the construction or laying the streets themselves with the loot they'd been gifted. They walked in the way everyone else did. A couple of guards asked for their names and the passcode for their invitation, but as soon as they heard Monan's name, they decided to personally guide them to the back of the city. A small shack rested in the back, like a lonely beach house.

Monan knocked on one of the walls, and it opened like a door, despite there being no knob. And there stood Uriel Grace with his long silver hair. He was in his same robes, shirtless and shoeless, but without the whipping marks and the exploded head.

"It's about time you're here," he said to Monan.

"Have you brought him?" Monan gestured to T'balt.

"Yep. This is number 5. Number 5," he turned to T'balt.

"Meet Uriel Grace, Number 3. Now… let's get this family reunion started."