Strands of Fate

by R F Hurteau

Then he saw a third figure. One that was not dressed like a technician. Eli could hardly focus, but he would have sworn that the figure was wearing some sort of a mask. Shiny, metal, encasing his head like a knight’s helmet of old.

  But the heat, the pain, was so intense, that he could just as well have been hallucinating.

  The mask tilted to the side, watching him through veiled eyes.

  Then the figure raised a hand, and one of the technicians stepped toward the machine.

  The pain stopped.

  Eli passed out.

  When he came to, he was back in his own bed. He wasn’t sure how he knew this, except that it smelled familiar.

  He had never noticed the smell of his bed before, which would have struck him as odd if he weren’t so irritated. He wanted nothing more than to sink back into unconsciousness, but the incessant rustling of his bunkmate prevented him from doing so. He waited impatiently for it to stop, until at last he could take it no longer.

  He turned his head to shout at Reggie, who slept in the cot to his right.

  Instead, as he opened his eyes and his mouth to complain about the ruckus, he found himself staring down the long room at Linus, who was sitting at the far end, peacefully thumbing through a book.

  Linus looked up when he noticed Eli’s gaze, and Eli turned away.

  He could smell the bed and hear across the room as if Linus were sitting right beside him.

  What was going on? What had they done to him?

  The image of the masked figure returned, and he wondered for the second time whether that had been a hallucination. He could not decide if he was grateful to the mystery man for stopping the excruciating treatment, or livid at him for observing for long, torturous seconds.

  Sitting bolt upright, Eli’s heart seemed to stop beating.

  Mabel.

  Where was she? Had she been made to endure the same treatment?

  Rage flooded his body and he stormed from the room, moving down the corridor at a rapid pace to Room 13, where Mabel slept.

  A quick glance around at the startled faces inside told him everything he needed to know—Mabel was not there.

  He raced back down the hall, stopped by the great double doors that acted as barriers, permitting the test subjects free reign only within designated areas, and no further.

  He banged on them, not caring at that moment about following the rules or good behavior.

  “Hey!” he shouted. “Where’s my sister? I know you can hear me. Let me through!”

  Eli continued beating on the door for several long minutes, shouting at the unseen orderlies and technicians he knew lurked just beyond, listening to his outburst.

  “Eli?”

  He whirled around to find Reggie staring at him, wide-eyed and frightened.

  The youth brought with him the memory of the Mackelroy girl, pleading for help in the market. Of Mabel’s compassion, and the glare she had given at Eli’s own dispassionate response.

  He struggled to control his breathing, calm himself. He knelt down to address Reggie, grasping him gently by the shoulders.

  “Reggie,” he said. “I’ve just been through...something awful. And I don’t know where Mabel is.”

  “She’s okay,” Reggie told him. “She’s with the military guy. The one who likes her.”

  Eli dismissed the last statement, giving Reggie a tiny shake. “Are you certain? Do you know where they went?”

  “To eat,” he said, looking unnerved once more. “I think. She came after they took you away, and they left together.”

  Relief washed over Eli in waves that threatened to topple him.

  “Thanks, Reggie,” he said breathlessly, offering the boy a smile that Reggie did not return. “Sorry I scared you. I just...”

  “They put you in the fire chamber, didn’t they?” Reggie asked, just above a whisper.

  Eli felt sickened to think that Reggie’s apt description of the machine was most likely from first-hand experience.

  “Yeah,” he replied, scowling. “They did.” Then he looked at the boy again, studying his little face. “How did you know?”

  Reggie swallowed hard. “That’s the first step,” he said. “That’s the first step before you disappear. Some people get as far as the sixth step, but, never any farther.”

  This did not answer Eli’s question, but rather created more.

  “What do you mean, ‘the first step’?”

  Reggie pointed over Eli’s shoulder, back toward the double door.

  Thinking perhaps someone was approaching, Eli stood and turned to look.

  But the door was still shut, its smooth metal finish marred by several concave dents that looked almost like...fist marks.

  He looked down at his own hand, curling it into a fist and placing it wordlessly against the door. They were from him.

  “You’re changing,” Reggie said, his voice quiet and shaky. “They’re changing you. You can sense things better now, too, I bet.”

  Eli nodded. “They...they put you in that machine?” he asked, still disbelieving.

  Reggie grimaced. “It didn’t work on me. I’m not right yet, they said. I’m not a good candidate. But a lot of the others, they told me what it was like. What changed for them.”

  “And these others,” Eli said slowly, “there aren’t any more of them here right now?”

  Reggie’s little face scrunched up, impossibly large tears welling in his eyes. “No. All my friends are gone now.”

  Kneeling down again, Eli opened his arms.

  It was all the invitation Reggie needed. The little boy flung himself into Eli’s embrace, his sobs muffled against Eli’s chest. He cradled the boy’s head, staring down the long, cold corridor behind them.

  “Not all of your friends, Reggie. I’m still here.”

  “Yes,” Reggie managed between sobs. “At least...for now.”

  At least for now.

  Ten

  A Rock and a Hard Place

  THE trio rose before dawn.

  The forest turned to gold as they worked, the bare branches of the trees bathed in the light of a rising sun. It lent a warm glow to the crisp air, spurring them on as they struggled to rid the Floater of the water that had pooled inside.

  Dry and refreshed, Gavin felt that the day’s journey began on a much more pleasant note than their frantic escape the day before. They continued eastward, keeping to the gully until the land evened out again.

  Gavin had a general idea of where they were heading, though he had only ever travelled along the road in this area of the country.

  This part of Thistlewood boasted an entirely different set of flora and fauna than that found in the lands around Solara. The tree trunks rose high into the air, thick and straight with smooth bark, before spreading into thick branches that intertwined amongst their neighbors like a thatched roof high above their heads.

  Before them the massive trees extended as far as the eye could see.

  Onyx’s brow furrowed as she scanned the forest. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

  Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you question me on my sense of direction?”

  He watched out of the corner of his eye as she turned around to look behind them, her expression anxious.

  “You’re right,” Onyx admitted, settling back down into her seat. “I don’t.”

  Gavin had seen Onyx at her lowest, when she withered away beside the window, staring blankly into the distance. He had seen her at her angriest, regarding the deaths of her enemies with cold indifference. He had seen her happy, excited, and focused.

  But this Onyx, worried and uncertain, this was a side of her he was unfamiliar with.

  Perhaps he’d been wrong. Perhaps losing Felix all over again had been too much for her. How much heartache could one person endure before it destroyed them?

  “I think this is right.” Ollie was unusually subdued. Gavin had begun to think that the young man was afraid of triggering Onyx’s wrath. “I’m from
Levandire, originally. I’ve only lived in Imradia for a few years, since joining the CEDAR program. These trees used to thrive there.”

  “Used to?”

  “Yes,” Ollie agreed. “I’ve seen pictures. But Levandire is a port city, the first line of defense during the Great War. The Elder Council ordered the trees cut down, expanding the city’s defensive wall and using the lumber for huge factories to manufacture weapons for the army.”

  When Ollie stopped speaking Gavin glanced back and saw that his face had scrunched into a troubled frown.

  “I bet it was beautiful, though. It probably looked a lot like this.”

  “It did.” Gavin’s words slipped out before he could stop himself.

  He’d seen for himself what Levandire had been like, before they’d sacrificed its beauty for the sake of survival.

  Thankfully, Ollie did not press him for details. They were all much too tired.

  The forest stretched on for a long time, and it was late afternoon before the trees began to thin.

  Onyx sat up straighter as the tree line came into view. They stopped the Floater well short, walking to the edge to take a look around.

  They’d come to a wide, well-travelled road. Though Floaters were a symbol of the great wealth and prestige of the White City, there were many more common forms of travel utilized by other, smaller cities and towns. This was a simple gravel road, marred by the tracks of a half-dozen different types of vehicles.

  Gavin saw no sign of movement in either direction. They took to the Floater once more.

  “We’re going to take the road?” Onyx asked.

  “Yes. We’re nearly there, and the road curves away from the trees up ahead, just like Ollie said. Everything around Levandire’s been converted to farmland. We won’t be able to hide in the forest any longer, there are only fields between us and our destination now.”

  As they rode on, Onyx’s unease began to affect him. The first few times she looked back over her shoulder, he thought she might be turning to speak with Ollie about something.

  It soon became apparent that this was not, in fact, the case.

  “Will you stop that? You’re starting to make me anxious.”

  “I’m sorry.” She stopped herself mid-turn. “But you are sure no one is following us?”

  Gavin sighed. “Why would anyone be following us, Onyx? We came through the forest. Nero has no idea where we are. There aren’t enough Envicti in Imradia to patrol every single road in the country.”

  “I suppose. But you said yourself that Nero will be heading this way. I just have a bad feeling.”

  That, more than anything else, gave Gavin pause.

  He had learned from experience to trust Onyx’s instincts.

  Gavin scanned the horizon. Lush farmland gave way to rolling hills in the distance. There was nowhere for them to hide, much less somewhere to stash the gleaming white Floater.

  “Alright,” he said, “let’s get off the road.”

  “Uh, guys?” Ollie’s voice was nervous now. “We aren’t alone.”

  Gavin turned around and cursed under his breath.

  In the far distance he could see something coming down the road. Large and black. They were a sitting duck out here, a bright target signaling their presence like a beacon.

  “Onyx, get in the back with Ollie, and both of you keep your heads down.”

  “Why?”

  He grimaced, but his expression was enough to make Onyx comply with his request.

  Gavin knew what he had to do, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

  Reaching under the steering controls, Gavin pulled at the lip of the panel covering the wiring.

  “What are you doing?” Ollie asked. “Do you need help?”

  “No.”

  Gavin grunted as the panel came away. He felt along the wires with his fingers, gauging their size and position without seeing.

  “I’m going to use a little trick I learned during military training. We had to learn how to break down Floaters and put them back together again. It was supposed to be good experience if anything ever went wrong on the road. Only—ah, here we go.”

  He’d found the wire he’d been seeking. Thick and covered in a textured coating, it was impossible to mistake for anything else.

  “Only what?” Onyx pressed.

  “Only we spent most of the time just trying to mess around with things. A few of us figured out that these things have speed inhibitors.”

  He jiggled the wire, trying not to loosen any others inadvertently.

  “Because they’re damn hard to control when they’re going too fast. You have to compensate manually for all the dips and bumps because the sensor relays are too slow to keep up. One miscalculation and you’re doing a nosedive into the ground and getting thrown twenty yards end over end before being smashed by the Floater you just trashed in the process.”

  “This sounds like the beginnings of a terrible idea,” Ollie remarked.

  “It is.” Gavin had managed to work the wire free from the trunk of the control column. “But it’s the only one I’ve got, unless you have any other suggestions?”

  Neither of his passengers had any argument.

  “Once we’ve got those hills between us and them we’ll have time to think of a better plan.”

  “Hang on,” said Ollie, his head appearing beside Gavin’s, his brow furrowed skeptically. “You mean those tiny little hills way off on the horizon? Just how fast do you think this thing—”

  Gavin depressed the accelerator. “Here we go!”

  Ollie tumbled backward into Onyx with a yelp of surprise.

  The wind nearly blinded Gavin as the Floater zipped forward and he had to struggle to keep his eyes open as bugs and tiny bits of dirt hit the windshield, many shooting up and over to collide in rapid succession with his face.

  He had only an instant to bemoan the poor design of the shield, too short to offer protection for the average Theran, before he forced his focus back to the road ahead.

  They flew forward, Gavin matching the slopes and sudden dips with the precision and reflexes bestowed upon him by a lifetime of training.

  The hills were growing larger. Once they were close enough he would be able to slow down.

  His jaw clenched as the control column vibrated in protest.

  “Almost there. We should be okay if we make it that far.”

  “If?” gasped Ollie in alarm.

  “When,” Gavin corrected. “When we make it that far. Sorry.”

  The Floater wobbled dangerously as his hand jerked, the subtle movement amplified by the reckless speed of the vehicle.

  He readjusted as he tried to process what he’d seen behind them in that fleeting glimpse before accelerating. A caravan was approaching, and several smaller vehicles had broken away from the group.

  “Are they gaining on us?”

  “Yes!” Onyx had to shout over the whistling of the air around them. “Cyclers. I count… eight. They’re closing the gap.”

  Gavin groaned.

  Cyclers were smaller than Floaters, large-wheeled vehicles designed to hold two; a driver and a shooter. They were used to protect and escort important people or cargo, and they were a lot faster than a Floater, too.

  Triangular in shape and low to the ground, their three tires offered stability at high speeds that Gavin couldn’t hope to match, even with the inhibitor disabled. Despite their head start, Gavin doubted they had more than a few minutes before the Cyclers caught up.

  “Any more brilliant ideas?” Onyx shouted. “They’re still gaining, so think fast.”

  The hills loomed before them, closer every second.

  Gavin knew that even if they made it that far the Cyclers would just split up and check any obvious hiding places.

  Still, maybe they’d have a chance against fewer opponents...no, that wouldn’t work. The others would converge on them once they were discovered.

  But then what else could they do?

  “Slow
ing down. Hold on.”

  He felt the force of Ollie’s body collide with the back of his seat as they decelerated, the Floater whining and bucking beneath them. The road curved just ahead, disappearing between two hills. He followed it, chancing a glance behind him that caused his stomach to give a lurch as he made eye contact with one of the drivers.

  They were close.

  He saw the shooter raise his crossbow. In seconds, the Floater would be out of their line of sight.

  They did not have seconds.

  “Down!” Gavin shouted, hoping that Onyx had seen the threat, too.

  They entered a narrow gully surrounded by sheer cliffs carved out long ago to construct the roads. The same instant, the crossbow bolt made contact with the spot where Ollie’s head had been only moments before.

  There was no time to marvel at the skills of the bowman though, as the instinctive desire to protect Onyx had caused Gavin to overcompensate. The Floater was careening out of control, and they needed to get out.

  There was no time to be cautious. Onyx pulled herself from her hiding place, dragging Ollie up by the collar and shouting in his ear, “Tuck and roll!”

  She tossed him unceremoniously over the side.

  Onyx glanced at Gavin, who nodded. He’d be right behind her.

  A second later, she’d leapt from the vehicle. Gavin followed suit.

  The earth rose up to meet him even as he tucked his head into a protective position, rolling and skidding violently against the rough gravel.

  It tore at him, but he paid it no heed. He listened instead as the Floater crashed headlong into the rocky face of the hill ahead, heard the sound of falling boulders triggered by the impact.

  When he came to a stop he stood as quickly as he dared, vertigo threatening to topple him back to the ground.

  “Gavin!”

  Onyx’s voice rang out from behind him. He looked toward the spot where the Floater had been, now covered in a heap of rubble. The crumpled back end was just visible beneath the rockslide, a white blotch beneath a great gray mass.

  Onyx reached him, grabbing his hand and tugging. She had a limping Ollie by the arm. Blood ran down the side of her face in streaks and the right side of her shirt was now a ragged collection of torn cloth strips, dirt and gravel mingling with the angry red gashes on her exposed flesh. It was ugly, portions of it looking more like tenderized meat than anything else.