Unity Carl Stubblefield (read book TXT) 📖

could barely see the path ahead. He had no idea if he was going in the right direction, but it was movement. Towards… something.

What if the light could be bigger? How would that change things? From there, the memory faded, but it struck Gus. He had always been so focused on improving himself. Attempting to make himself worthy of the company of others. That his need for isolation was to dampen the insecurity he felt from bringing others down by his presence.

Deep down though, the rationale was always a bit selfish. To protect himself. BoJack had not found his light until he had put himself out there for another. Not for a reward or recognition, but for someone who could do nothing to repay him in any way, shape, or form.

He had made the world better than he found it. Because it was the right thing to do, and that act withstood the insurmountable forces that just seemed to grind everything to dust and drain the energy out of every particle until there was just a great sea of nothingness.

In some insane way, Gus felt a similar fire start to kindle within himself. He almost immediately dismissed it, having long ago accepted that nothing he could do would allow him to escape Mengele’s control. Still, there was something that ignited his own hope. Irrational and strange, but undeniable all the same.

Thinking of both Prime and BoJack, he became bolder in his resolution. As the idea coalesced in his mind, his awareness expanded, almost imperceptibly. What if he could help them both, somehow, after this was over? Help Prime resolve her troubles and reunite with her daughter. The darkness seemed to roil around Gus, attempting to discourage the foolish thought, but Gus held onto it as the storm whipped him like a banner in a tempest.

Tempest. Thoughts crashed back into his awareness of his family. The haunted, broken look of his father after they had found his mother. The change that had happened with Cyclone. No, Alan. Wow, when was the last time he called his brother by his real name? He had found that he had subconsciously switched after he had gotten his powers. That with the change, he was no longer his brother; he was so much more. And the unspoken attitude that Gus wasn’t worthy to warrant his attention anymore. Not to mention figuring out a way to help his mother.

As he looked at everyone who needed help, he realized that this couldn’t be the end. Not if he could help it. For the longest time, he had seen the demands of others on his time as a constant drain. As if he were a bank account and everyone kept making withdrawals without putting anything back in to replenish what they had taken. It made him feel used and taken advantage of, and angry at the imposition.

Now, he saw it with a different perspective. That it was really Gus himself that had been taking from others his entire life and hoarding everything. Doling out his time and commitment sparingly, keeping the best for himself. Choosing not to see the sacrifices and contributions of others in the same light as his own. Overvaluing his portions and diminishing theirs because it wasn’t what he had expected or wanted. A transactional way of looking at every interaction, and that he was getting a bad deal.

He knew full well the fruits of cultivating this viewpoint, and how it played a huge part in his own sense of self-value and worth. Plans and commitments began to solidify in his mind, only to be shattered by another session with Mengele. Each time they solidified a bit more. Promises and dreams remembered. Refined. Stripping away those things that were more for his benefit than others.

And somehow it helped.

That there was some very small chance that somehow things would work out. Absurd as it was, an odd sense of peace sat like a speck of sand inside an oyster. He clustered his awareness around this hope, and it warmed him when he would return from the blizzard of pain that Mengele would inflict, hour after hour.

Chapter Sixty-Three

You’ll Miss Me When I’m Not Around

Sanura let the holo-vid ring three times before answering.

“You have recordings, don’t you?” the man said in a blur.

“Well, good morning to you too, Harlan. And if you must know, yes, I do.” Sanura calmly rolled some tops into bundles and tucked them in a duffel, feigning disinterest.

“See? I told you, dammit!” she heard him hiss offscreen.

“Hit mute, you idiot, she can hear!” Elaine hissed back out of sight of the holo-vid.

Sanura smiled; it didn’t matter if they hit mute or not. But it would be entertaining to see what they would say when they thought they weren’t being monitored.

“I didn’t think she had a place here,” Elaine said in exasperation.

“She has hidey holes all over. It’s debatable if they would pass a home inspection if things came down to it, but I’m sure she could arrange something quick if she needed to. Remember what we discussed, okay?” He leaned back into the frame.

Such amateurs. Why wouldn’t they discuss their plan before contacting me? Sanura just shook her head as she packed some more clothes in a bag. She had oriented her holo-vid to just show her bed and the wall. It wouldn’t reveal exactly how spartan and small the space was. These two idiots didn’t need to know that. While she did maintain a variety of safe-houses, she didn’t have any in this city. Until an hour ago. She knew this call would come, so she got situated and set the stage.

“I just talked with my lawyers, and I think they brought up some good points,” Harlan began, voice tentative.

“Oh?”

“Erm, yes. He mentioned that you would be unlikely to seek legal action given the climate here for hybrids. It’s different from the last time we went to court. He doesn’t think you’d take that risk.”

“I’m willing to take my chances.” It