For the code of Promise

The Broken Code

Jaxon’s POV

I was sitting outside the house, feeling the summer sun on my skin. The beautiful surrounding flowers were starting to bloom, and being around them made me feel completely suited to nature. Nature was something of importance at the core of my heart. Everything about it was simply a continuous, complex, cyclical chain—just like my life. My life was continuously wandering around the same events, though they were gradually becoming more challenging for me and my family.

Cassie came outside the house and sat next to me on the bench. She wrapped her arm around my spine and leaned on my shoulder. I could tell she felt more comfortable at that moment than troubling her mind with my thoughts, which I hadn’t even shared with her. I looked into her pupils, and she gently gleamed with a smile. Unexpectedly, I didn’t say anything. Instead, I kissed her cheeks and pulled her closer to me. We stayed there for a while, admiring the purplish and pinkish flowers she had grown in the yard.

“The breakfast is ready. Let’s go eat,” she said softly, persuading me with gentle touches on my cheek. “Let’s join Killer and Amanda. They rushed to take Keller to the clinic; he wasn’t feeling well today.”

“Oh, you’re right, I had forgotten,” I said, removing my phone from my pocket. “Are you accompanying them to the clinic?”

“No! Going… where?” she asked, gesturing a refusal.

“Cathy is late for school. I thought you would go with her,” I said, getting up from the bench.

“Oh… yeah, Jaxon. But I don’t think it’s good for her to go to school in the situation we’re facing,” she paused and took a deep breath. “Remember the effects she faced when we were in Gwanda—and now we’re in the same situation.”

“It didn’t click in my mind. I don’t think she’ll even think of going to school,” I said, holding Cassie’s hand to help her stand.

“Yeah, and you need to think of something very fast because it’s stealing all my peace,” she said as we walked into the house.

We entered the dining room. Killer and his wife were already at the table eating, and Cathy was busy on her phone, even though Amanda had told her not to use it. Her food sat untouched beside her.

“Oh wow, chocolate tea. You know my likes, Amanda,” I said, praising her as I pulled a chair for my wife.

“I missed it. Remember those days at the tree-cutting company when we used to eat whatever we wanted?” Amanda giggled, pouring tea into our cups. “So I didn’t think twice about making chocolate tea.”

“Chocolate was also my favorite. If not for my health, I would have already finished more than two cups,” Killer said, laughing.

“Wait… don’t tell me your wife said no to chocolate tea for you,” I said.

Killer laughed even more, looked at Amanda, and said, “No. I told her I would rather not die from the sweetness of chocolate tea.”

At that moment, I felt Killer was starting to see himself as weak. I knew he had been living with diabetes for six months, but he never worried this much before. He needed motivation; he wasn’t supposed to go to war with that mindset.

We settled down and had our breakfast—toast with lightly scrambled eggs. Killer and Amanda were already prepared to go to the nearby clinic, so after eating, I went to borrow a car from my neighbor, and as usual, he lent it to me.

Killer took the car, and they drove to the clinic. My wife took the plates to the sink to wash them, while I helped my daughter watch Cinderella cartoons. After about an hour, I decided to go to the river since I wasn’t going to work. I wore a light jersey because it was a little windy outside.

It didn’t take long to reach the river. The place was calm; the water was still, and wasps and butterflies were busy soaring low over the river as if they were on a mission. I stood with my hands shoved into my jersey pockets, admiring the spirits of those small living creatures. They were busy even when the weather wasn’t favorable. The wind blew the grass in every direction, and tree leaves flapped constantly.

The butterflies and wasps made me realize that regardless of life’s circumstances, one must stay oriented toward action to achieve purpose. My interest was to live happily—not as a fugitive—but freely in my hometown.

I walked to a log that protruded into the river just above the water and climbed onto it, letting my legs swing above the surface. At that moment, I allowed my mind to wander—both voluntarily and involuntarily.

My life was filled with checkmates. Every time I thought I had made it, I encountered harder challenges. It all began when two of my friends died in the mine and we didn’t report it. We found drugs in the mine and took ownership of them, though we never intended to use them. Seth had told us in his final breath never to touch them.

Later, Mathew and Linx wanted to use the cursed drugs. I created a code of brotherhood—a promise never to touch anything related to drugs.

That very code led to the plot of my death, my escape from my wedding, my mother’s death, Linx’s death, and many other tragedies. Those events from decades back were the reasons for the chaos I was facing at that moment.

I was being hunted for death by my own people—some of them members of the Scouters. I had grown up with most of them. My wife’s brother, Mathew, and his drug lord Drago also wanted me dead. I understood Mathew’s fight was personal—he didn’t want me to marry his sister. But Drago wanted to eliminate me so he could be crowned the successor of the code crafter.

I was the code crafter. I designed the S4S as a brotherhood squad, but when I fled to Tanzania, Linx expanded it to other countries. That was a mistake. People began to see the code crafter as a powerful figure, and killing me became a path to respect among drug lords operating behind the government’s back.

Stan, Jane’s former Scouters colleague, was assigned to hunt me down and close the mine case once and for all—but he failed repeatedly.

It was time for me to come back from the dead and stop living like a ghost. I had to correct the mistakes I made when I was young. Even if it meant my death, I had to act—as long as Cassie and Cathy would be safe.

To do that, I needed to send them away from me so they wouldn’t suffer the direct consequences of my wars. They deserved peace. Yet I knew my enemies would use them to lure me out, so the only way to prevent that was to surrender myself to the Scouters.

My family would return to Gwanda, and I would turn myself in to observe how the situation unfolded. Killer would fly to Mexico to negotiate a deal. I needed support in the war ahead.

Every crime in my hometown had been credited to me after the Scouters believed I was dead. Now that they knew I was alive, they wouldn’t let me go free—I was a threat to their exposure.

I knew they were planning to hunt me. They expected me to keep running, to remain a ghost—but that wasn’t who I was. I would approach them, sit with them, share a coffee, and discuss the matters troubling both sides.

I was the code crafter—the designer of the Secrete4Squad. I had to reclaim my rightful place and restore order, even if it meant becoming a drug lord, as long as my family was safe.

My family’s safety was my priority above everything. I had to correct the twisted code that destroyed peace. For the broken promise, I was ready to wipe out my enemies.