Fate: No Strings Attached

by Erik Schubach

  My girl was falling, and I whipped a hand out lightning fast and grabbed her wrist as she fell past, screaming. It tore me from the wall, and I was just able to keep a grip on the tiny crack in the rock face. It felt like my fingers were being torn from me, but I stopped her fall.

  For a second or so we just hung there, her dangling below me, a three hundred foot drop below us. It felt like my arm was on fire and my fingers were starting to shake as I called to her, “Baby, just look at me. Don't look down. Climb now!”

  I was terrified of losing her, but I was at the end of my strength. I don't know how I was able to hold on, but I knew, I just knew she had another forty-nine years left in her. It wasn't her time, and I took comfort in that.

  My girl took a shuddering breath then nodded and swallowed as I hauled her up as she grabbed my shoulder. I swung her up, and her fingers found a handhold just as mine failed. It was odd how calm I was as I fell, I just looked at the horror on my girls face as I plummeted into darkness. My last thoughts were that she was ok, and that this wasn't really the end.

  I was scrabbling at the air as Andreya grappled with my hands.

  She pulled me to her. “Sloan... It's ok, I've got you. What's happening?”

  I tried to get my breathing under control and was barely aware of myself rushing out, “I died. I was dead. What's going on?” I looked up at her, and her piercing eyes were like an anchor as I forced calm upon myself. I said to her, knowing the impossibility of what I was saying, “I'm Hannah Graham.”

  She had a deep sadness come over her eyes like you would when you pitied someone not right in their head, but before she could speak, I gasped as the ink in my skin writhed and at my wrists again, burning with the intensity of the sun. I bit back a shriek of pain, and the door swung open.

  Atropos looked at us and blurted out, “They've found us, Clotho. We have to get to Lach now!”

  My head was swimming as my vision spun, Clotho? That was me, as sure as Hannah was. Wait, Mrs. Ramos was this Atropos I kept getting flashes of? And Lach? Lachesis! Mother!

  I just gaped at the two women as my mind reeled. Andreya was in police mode instantly at the sound of alarm in her voice. Her hand instinctively resting on her shoulder holster. “Slow down, Mrs. Ramos, what are you talking...”

  The woman hissed out at her, “We don't have time for this,” as she reached me and grabbed my hand, sliding up my sleeve. The black ink was surging, trying to get out from under my skin and it burned with a pearlescent light that both hurt and filled me with wonder. She plucked at my wrist and threads of light followed her hands like ethereal tendrils as she spread her fingers. Impossibly, those threads started weaving together in the air.

  Both Drey and I stared dumbly at it as she placed a hand on the weaving that hung before us, and closed her eyes. She muttered, “Lesser hunters. We need to move now. No more time to be waiting for you to come back to yourself girl.”

  I yanked my arm back, and the threads in the air seemed to retreat back into me. I snapped at her, “Atta, I'm not a little girl anymore.” Memories that didn't make sense assaulted me, filled with fantastical and frightening things. I didn't have time to sort through them. If lesser hunters were here, the Adumbrates would soon follow.

  I grabbed Andreya's hand. “We have to get out of here now. She's right, hunters are close, I can feel them.” I glanced out the window, and I swore I saw the shadows outside moving on their own.

  She started to resist pulling up her cell as she said quickly, “If someone is here I'll call backup.”

  I shook my head, knowing what I said next was true but not knowing why. “There isn't time. We have to get away from the innocent people here, or they may as well be dead already when the reavers arrive.”

  She looked at my glowing wrist, I pulled my sleeve down over it then she just nodded once, unclipped the strap on her gun on her holster and then stepped past my... grandmother? It was still all too much to process correctly.

  She looked around then said, “Come on, my vehicle is at the side entrance. And what is a reaver?” We nodded to her and followed this mortal who had more courage than any other four, and we ran.

  Chapter 5 – Separated

  Atta stared at the detective with indecision, and I said without thinking, “Reavers are some of the lesser hunters. Mortals fallen from grace that the Adumbrates have infused with shadow. They are dark and twisted individuals who live to hunt for their masters.”

  Mrs. Ramos was staring at me with wide eyes like she couldn't believe I was telling Drey this. I gave her a defiant glare, and she exhaled and said, “They are the next best thing to immortal, and virtually unstoppable by mortals. Just two had torn through the armies of Thadius of Carradine before they were brought down at the cost of hundreds of soldier's lives.”

  We stopped at the side door, and Andreya braced an arm on it. She looked at us, studying us and said, “If I hadn't seen that light display you put on upstairs, I'd think you both mad. I have to process this. How many are out there?”

  I didn't know, but I could feel the movement in the surrounding blocks, my blood ran cold when Atropos said in a hoarse tone, “Seven.”

  Seven? Frayed ends! That many haven't been set loose in the time of man for over three thousand years. They could slaughter thousands just to get to their targets. Apparently, we were their targets. We needed to get away from all the people in the library, now!

  I was afraid to ask myself the question of how I knew this. I was frightened of the answers, so I didn't dwell or sift through all of the memories that were like an info-bomb, information overload. I hadn't completely absorbed who I was yet, as there were conflicting memories which threatened to push my mind into some sort of traumatic shock, so I concentrated on the here and now.

  Drey pushed the door open and looked out quickly and scanned the area and said, “Come on, let's get you to the station, where...”

  We slid outside with her, Atta cutting her off. “Your mortal police can do nothing against reavers. It took twenty of the most skilled pikemen to kill the last one.”

  Then she was shoving Andreya aside with surprising strength for an old woman, and she blocked some slashing claws from a passing pedestrian with... a pair of – scissors? Sparks flew as the woman's claws struck the small metal blades.

  The redheaded woman looked like your everyday soccer mom, but the shadow inside her distended her jaw, showing dark shadow teeth. Her face took on a monstrous look as the seven-inch claws extending from her hands clicked together in preparation as the woman started to drool in anticipation of feasting on our flesh, preferably while we still lived.

  Twice more she slashed out at Atta, and the unnatural sparks flew as she blocked each attack. The reaver hissed, and I could smell burning flesh. There was something about cold steel and iron, but my heart was beating too fast for me to recall, I had to help my gran.

  Before I could move, the hunter was body checked and slammed against the stone facade of the building by Andredya. The corrupted woman didn't even seem phased, and she spun quickly, and the two exchanged a violent flurry of blows and kicks. Drey hissing as her arms were cut again and again by the shadow claws, but she didn't falter.

  By the bias and weave, she was magnificent.

  With a smooth twisting move, she wound up behind the soccer mom somehow, pulling the woman's arm back a high angle with one arm, as she started to reach for the handcuffs at her hip with the other. I shouted out a warning, “Drey!” Too late to tell her that reavers had much greater strength than a normal human.

  The hunter yanked her forward by the arm in Andreya's grip and slammed her against the wall. As the scrappy detective started pulling her gun from her holster while she oofed, the wind getting knocked from her, I was in motion.

  I growled out a challenge and was instinctively reaching my hands to my wrists, and I yanked. With a searing heat, ropes of intertwined silverish threads of light whipped out from under my skin, it felt like I was flaying myself ali
ve as the ropes whipped out toward the reaver.

  One wrapped around its neck and the other around its outstretched claw that was poised to come sweeping down on Andreya. I was already spinning and heaving with all my might, and the next moment the reaver was flying through the air, out into the street just to be struck by an oncoming car.

  There were two thunks as first the front then rear wheels went over the hunter, and the driver slammed on their brakes. The driver began to get out of the vehicle as Dray started toward the reaver, no fear in her expression, just stone cold determination.

  The hunter rolled to its feet, her clothing a mess from the impact though she showed barely any scratches from being run over by a two thousand pound vehicle. The driver was in danger if he kept approaching her, concern for the woman he thought he had hit painting the man's face.

  I lashed out again with the ropes and grabbed the creature's legs with the ends of the strands and screamed as I spun with twice the force, sending it flying into a mailbox on the corner. It screamed as its flesh sizzled on a couple areas where metal and rust were exposed from under the worn paint.

  We all looked around quickly, ignoring the shocked and gaping driver, there were three other reavers converging on us from a couple blocks down, the shadows around them were flowing into them, giving them strength.

  Atta looked back at us, a ferocious gleam in her eyes which matched the gleaming scissors in her hand. “We need to split up before they get here. I'll handle this one. Meet in Seattle, that is where Lach has been, just in case you surfaced there.”

  And with that, Mrs. Ramos, head librarian of the Mount Vernon library, started running at the monster from nightmares, which was extricating itself from the destroyed mailbox debris, scissors raised. I don't think I've seen such a sight in all my lives.

  I grinned at Andreya, who was torn in indecision as she looked between her and me. I shrugged and gave her a sheepish smile. “That's my grandma.” Then I added quickly as I looked around for her vehicle, “We need to move, or innocent people could get hurt. Their threads prematurely cut! We need to lead them away.”

  I winced as the ropes of woven threads pulled back under my skin. It felt like it was branding me from the inside.

  She hesitated, looked around to the people starting to gather at windows in the buildings nearby as cars slowed to see what the ruckus was all about. She holstered her gun and grabbed my hand and dragged me to her green SUV with its exempt plates.

  We were roaring down the road past Atta, who was thrusting her scissors through the eye of the reaver like she was some sort of geriatric badass. I saw a pained expression on Drey's face which I likely shared. It was like we were abandoning Mrs. Ramos there. I watched as long as I could until we turned a corner, and then looked at Andreya as she asked, “Just what the hell was that thing? It wasn't human.”

  I noted her eyes linger on my arms a moment before she turned her attention back to driving us quickly toward I5. I got the implied and unspoken words “Neither are you,” And it felt like a slap to my face.

  I centered myself and sorted through memories, but they were confusing because I could remember bits and pieces of Hannah, and bits and pieces of Clotho, but I couldn't differentiate between them well. And there were other slivers of memories of different people who were also me.

  I told her, “I... I think I worked with my mother and grandmother somewhere... else. Not here. We weaved things on a loom.” I pulled at my wrists, and gossamer, translucent silver threads followed my fingers ass the tattoos flowed to my fingertips. Though it scared the hell out of me, it also seemed to be the most proper thing in the world, and it gave me an odd sort of serenity in the pool of chaos my emotions were swimming in.

  I shook that off as her lips narrowed into a thin line. Then she asked, “How are we going to find her? Do you think she'll be ok? More reavers were coming.”

  She seemed to let the confusion and unanswered questions go for a moment and shot me a consoling look. “I'm sure she’s fine.” I could hear the guilt in her tone, but then she smirked. “From what I saw, she was no stranger to physically kicking a little ass. She can take care of herself.”

  Then she inhaled deeply and asked again, “What were those things, and give me one good reason not to turn around and call in the SWAT team.”

  I understood the conflict going on in her, she was sworn to protect the people of the city, and we were running instead. On Atta and my word that innocent people would die if we didn't. I pulled up the memories of what I knew. And it sounded like a fantasy to me so I didn't know how she would receive it.

  I explained. “There are other things than mortals in the world. I guess I'm one of those things though I can't fully remember just how. But some of the very few remaining immortals are called Adumbrates. They've walked the ether realm and mortal realm since the beginning.”

  I shrugged. “They rarely interact directly, instead they create vassals from those who willingly let the shadow in so that they can live longer, be stronger. The fact that they are nothing less than slaves doesn't bother them.”

  I spat out the next words. “The Adumbrates use reavers and other creatures as hunters, lesser hunters, to punish those who displease them, and to alter human history.”

  That just left a sour taste in my mouth as I knew that that was a bigger crime to me than them actually killing to get their way, but I didn't know why... yet. I thought on that a moment before sharing, “Reavers can be anyone, they can be standing right in front of you, and you would never know until they let their shadow consume them. They aren't immortal, but they are strong, fast, and almost impossible to kill without cold steel or iron. It is anathema to them.”

  I shrugged. “That's all I can remember, but more and more keeps coming to me as I talk about it.”

  We sat there in an extended and awkward silence that lasted over five minutes but felt like five years as she digested what I had said. I was basically telling her to believe in the supernatural when I myself didn't believe me.

  But the things we had seen, the things I had done... I played with the threads coming from my very skin again. Just the feel of them was like touching the warmth of the sun, tasting fresh water from a stream... they felt like life to me.

  If I were human, I'd... Nap and stitch! I wasn't human, was I? But I remember dying. Living my life. But it was ok, I'd lived a thousand times hadn't I? It was natural for my kind.

  I muttered as I pieced some of the memories and events together, “Knotted threads, I'm a Fate?”

  I was knocked out of my thoughts when Andreya leaned across my lap, keeping one eye on the road. I inhaled sharply as I caught the smile on her face as she winked at me. Then I relaxed when she opened the glove box and pulled out a magazine for her gun that had a red piece of tape on the bottom of it.

  She leaned back, pausing to share that smile with me again, flooding me with relief that she wasn't about to throw me in a cell somewhere and forget me. She watched the road as she one-handedly unholstered the gun and swapped magazines with the one in it. She handed it to me, and I looked at it and saw a blue piece of tape on the bottom of it.

  I looked at it to her as I put it in the open glove box and closed it. She had a wicked gleam in her eyes as she asked in an almost silly voice, “Steel you say?” She slammed the new magazine home in the receiver and then operated the slide, putting a bullet in the chamber before re-holstering it while steering with her legs.

  I nodded dumbly, and she winged her brows as she said, “Well then, I've got a surprise for those mythological shitheads.”

  That made me chuckle a little. I could make an educated guess that she just swapped out her ammunition to something steel jacketed. Then I really looked at her, she seemed so calm, and her words told me that she believed me, at least as far as something not natural was going on.

  I feared for my life, but I couldn't ignore the fact that it made her that much more desirable. I chastised myself for the inappropriate timing of
my libido. I distracted myself and spoke to her since she had finally broken our wall of silence, “You're taking the news of other worldly things oddly well.”

  She shrugged and said in a sarcastic tone, “Well I figure my two options are checking myself into the nearest looney bin, or believing what my eyes see and making sure no innocent people get hurt while I figure out just what to do. So I choose the more difficult of the two choices.”

  Then she complained, “The things I do for a pretty face.”

  I blushed at her. She thought I was pretty. That is a huge morale and confidence booster to hear someone you are attracted to say that.

  I flashed on some mesmerizing green eyes locked on mine, passion burning in them, as I ran my hands through Lily's thick red curls. Her words were like the whispering echoes of the past just flowing over me as she said with an awe only lovers could have for each other, “You're so beautiful, Hannah.”

  I was almost panting from the intensity of the memory and the remembered heat. To me, nine months had passed since I had seen Lily, but to her, it had been almost thirty years. That hurt, but not as much as if I hadn't made a new life for myself here. As Sloan. I wasn't Hannah anymore, and I mourned her passing.

  Then I smiled at Andreya and knew why I was so attracted to her. I seemed to have a thing for green eyes. She was exactly my type, a strong woman who knows exactly who she is, and lives on adrenaline and doing the right thing. She reminded me of Lily in some ways, but Drey was definitely like nobody I had been attracted to in the past. She was... dangerous.

  Oh, frayed ends! She caught me staring at her, no doubt with a goofy look on my face. She scrunched her nose. “What?”

  I shook my head and played it cool. “Nothing.” Ok, so I'm not good at cool.

  I noted her attention was split between the road, me, and the frequent glances in her rear view mirror. I looked back and asked, “What is it?”

  She shook her head and asked, “Can you do that oggity boogity shit you did in the library? I think we might have a tail.”