Fated

by T. L. McDonald

  Inside Will leads Eric into the living room, sitting him down gently on the leather sofa. "I'll be right back," he says to him before hastily moving down the hallway at the back of the room. A light spills out from one of the rooms with the sounds of rummaging echoing out. A few minutes later Will returns holding a large clear jar filled with disgusting looking green goo. Anticipating the smell, I cover my nose with the neck of my shirt.

  Looking over at me after placing the jar of goo on the coffee table Will laughs.

  "What? I remember what that stuff smells like from the last time. And just so you know, it took me forever to get the smell out of my sheets. I had to wash them like five times."

  "I'll try not to accidentally get some on you then," Will jokes with a devilish grin. I step back. He laughs.

  Eric mumbles something under his breath just before his mouth pulls back in a grimace and he tips over falling to the side where his face smooshes into the leather of the sofa.

  The smile vanishes from Will's face. Frantically he starts to remove Eric's shirt. "Hanna, in the bathroom medicine cabinet there is a pair of tweezers. I need you to go get them for me okay. And hurry."

  "Okay."

  The fear underlying Will's voice sends shivers down my back. Something must be wrong. Moving through the house as fast as I can, I retrieve the tweezers as requested. By the time I return, Will has Eric completely stripped down to nothing but his Superman boxers. I'd be embarrassed if I weren't in total shock at seeing so many scars and open stab wounds all over his body.

  Will takes a small flashlight out of his pocket, the same one he used at the factory earlier. "I missed some at the factory. I thought I had them all, but it was so dark, and you disappeared, and." He looks up at me. "Through no fault of your own of course," he adds before I have a chance to start blaming myself for Eric's current predicament. "Here." He thrusts the light into my hand and takes the tweezers. "I need you to hold this right here, okay?"

  "Okay."

  Flashbacks of Jared in my place and I in Will's, rush through my mind. Of course, Will only had one wound compared to the many riddled all over Eric. Most of his wounds have already healed leaving behind small white scars, but there are still a few that are open and jagged with harsh dark red veins branching out, one on the right side of his hip and another two at the back of his left leg.

  "How...how many times was he stabbed?" My voice is about as steady as my shaking hands.

  Pulling out an onyx colored shard from Eric's hip, Will lets it fall to the floor. "Counting these, fifteen."

  I cover my mouth with my hand, bile rising up the back of my throat. Fifteen times. He was stabbed fifteen times and each time The Fallen broke off the tip of a blade so he couldn't heal. Without question The Fallen are evil, but until this moment, I never really understood just how cruel they could be too. All the pain Eric must have felt, what he must still be feeling, makes me sick. How could beings once a part of heaven fall so far to become so twisted?

  What if The Fallen do something like this to Jared? What if they find him and torture him in some horrible way until he does what they want? What if Blondie...

  Stop it! I command myself. Thinking like this isn't going to help anyone and right now is not the time to get lost falling apart in macabre what if scenarios.

  Forcing myself to suppress all my horrible sick thoughts of what could be happening to Jared right now, I focus all of my attention on Will instead as he pulls the last broken shard from Eric's battered body. Once it's out he goes to work applying the green goo covering every wound, even the ones that have already healed. Color starts to return to Eric's face as Will twists the cap back on the jar of goo and sets it on the table. Leaving his brother to rest, Will gets up and heads for the kitchen where he washes his hands clean in the sink.

  Leaning against the kitchen counter, Will runs a hand down over his face then stuffs both hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He watches Eric intently, his dark blue eyes giving away just how scared he is at losing him. Over the last few weeks he's lost his best friend and by extension his sister Zoe. If Eric were taken away too, he'd have nothing left.

  "Are you okay?" Stupid question. Of course he's not okay, but I can't think of what else to say. I move to stand beside him nudging his upper arm with my shoulder. He looks down at me, everything he's not saying written on his face.

  "I'm fine," he says.

  Liar.

  With a deep breath he pushes away from the counter and heads down the hall leaving me alone wondering if I should follow or not. Before I can make up my mind he returns with a blanket in hand then covers Eric up with it. Stepping back, he looks down at himself, then tugs at his blood stained shirt. "I'm going to go change." Draping his leather jacket over the back of the sofa, he heads towards his room, stripping off his shirt as he goes.

  "Okay."

  A few minutes later he returns wearing dark wash jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and a red zip-up hoodie. "Catch," he says, tossing me a small black rectangle. "As promised, a new iPhone to replace your ruined one. I meant to give this to you when we were here earlier, but better late than never right?" He pulls out his own phone from his back pocket. "I've got to make a quick phone call and then I'll take you to see Jared."

  Butterflies swarm my belly at the thought of seeing Jared and I want so much to get lost in that feeling, but I can't shake this horrible nagging fear that everything's about to fall apart because what if Will was wrong and Jared's really not safe at The Compound at all. What if there is no safe place for him? What if we do everything we can to protect him and it's not good enough? What if Blondie already has us beaten and we just don't know it yet?

  The sound of the door closing behind Will as he steps out onto the porch jars me from my thoughts. Shaking them off I decide to call Jared now that I have a phone in the hopes that hearing his voice will somehow help calm my nerves. If I know he's okay, then maybe I can kind of, sort of, be okay too. Maybe. At least until I can see him with my own two eyes anyway.

  Waking the phone up a screen saver of Will making a silly face fills the screen and I smile as I dial Jared's number from memory. With each ring my heart beats faster and faster only to come to a sudden stand still when his voicemail kicks on. I hang up without leaving a message and then dial again getting the same result. After five more tries I give up and text Adam to let him know I'm okay and that I'll be home in a little while. A return text chimes in a moment later but before I can read it Will comes back into the room.

  "As soon as Eric's girlfriend Logan gets here we can go." He peeks over his shoulder taking a quick glance at Eric sleeping on the sofa. "I don't want to leave him here alone." I nod even though it's killing me to have to wait longer. Hopefully this Logan chick gets here fast.

  Hopefully this Logan chick gets here fast? What is wrong with me? I should smack myself for being so insensitive. Eric was just stabbed fifteen times and Will had to basically play surgeon to pull out all the pieces left behind. If it were Adam lying there in Eric's place, I’d be soaked in worry and there's no way I could leave him until I knew he was truly okay and here I am asking Will to do just that.

  It's not right.

  And it's too much to ask. I want to see Jared, I want to make sure he's safe, but I can't in good conscience ask Will to leave his brother at a time like this. I can find The Compound on my own. Given directions, I'm sure it won't be that difficult.

  "By the way, I talked to Jared," Will says before I can suggest he stay here with Eric while I seek Jared out on my own. Reaching into the refrigerator he pulls out a can of soda. "He's okay and looking forward to seeing you. Want one?" He offers me the soda in his hand. I decline with a shake of my head.

  "You talked to Jared?" My heart beats in relief at hearing he's okay. "I tried to call him, but all I got was his voicemail."

  "That's because you’re dialing the wrong number. He can't answer calls from his old phone since you know, he's supposed to be missing, and most likely
presumed dead by now, and missing presumed dead guys can't answer the phone now can they?" He says teasingly as he takes the phone from my hands, punches in a number, and then hands it back to me. "You'll find his new number under 'Prophecy Boy.'"

  "Funny," I say sarcastically to which he replies with a smile.

  My hands tremble as I scroll through the address book. Unfamiliar digits stare up at me and suddenly I find I'm nervous. Moments ago I was eager to call him, anxious to hear if he was okay, but now, now I don't know what to say. Or maybe it's that I have too much to say and I can't sort out where to start, especially with Will staring at me like he is.

  "I don't know about you, but I'm starved." Will pats at his stomach. "Want something to eat while we wait for Logan?"

  "About that, I was thinking maybe I should go to The Compound on my own so you can stay here with Eric."

  "I appreciate the gesture, but you can't get to The Compound on your own. You'd never get through the cloaking wards."

  "Oh." I pause, the words he just said sinking in. "Wait, did you just say cloaking wards?"

  Will laughs. "Yes. And you should totally see the look on your face right now." He pokes the tip of my nose with his finger then turns around to open one of the kitchen cabinets. "So," He looks back over his shoulder. "Food? Want some?"

  After a day and a half of not eating my stomach rumbles at the thought of food. "Yeah, food sounds great."

  Leaving Will to rummage around in the kitchen I step out onto the porch for privacy while I call Jared.

  One ring.

  Two rings.

  "Hello." Hearing his voice my heart forgets to beat.

  "Hey." Hey? Really? The best I can come with is 'Hey'?

  "Hey," Jared says back and I smile a little.

  "I miss you," I blurt out.

  "I miss you too."

  "Are you okay? Are you safe because Blondie knows about you and he knows where you are and..." I'm starting to panic. Insane thoughts of Blondie finding him, of Blondie taking him away before I can get there, start running through my head and it's all I can do to just breathe. If Blondie gets to him first, if he, if he...I don't think I...

  "Hanna, just breathe. I can hear you having a panic attack over the phone. I promise I'm fine here. I'm safe. This place is like Fort Knox and I've been assured more than once that it would be impossible for Blondie to get in."

  "But what if he does?"

  "He won't."

  "Well, I'm coming to you anyway, just as soon as Eric's girlfriend gets here."

  "In that case, I hope she get's there fast, so you get here sooner."

  "Me too."

  "Before we hang up, I've just got one question. What are you wearing?" He says in an alluring voice.

  I laugh at the absurdity and timing of his question. "Really Jared? A blonde psychopath might be on his way to you right this minute and you pick now to flirt?"

  "Yes. And you didn’t answer the question. Do you want to know what I'm wearing?"

  "What are you wearing?" I say playing along.

  "Wouldn't you like to know?”

  "Tease."

  Will knocks on the window behind me signaling that whatever food he's prepared is ready.

  I hold up my index finger signaling to Will that I'll be there in a minute. "I've got to go, but I'll see you soon okay?" I say even though I really don't want to hang up.

  "See you soon," Jared replies.

  Tucking my phone into my back pocket I go inside to see what kind of culinary masterpiece Will's whipped up in less than ten minutes. "So, what's for dinner?"

  "My favorite," Will slides a bowl across the island counter nearly spilling its contents. "Apple Jacks."

  ***

  For several miles I have no idea where we are with all the turns and back roads Will is taking until we come out onto the main road and I see the abandoned church up ahead. Passing it, we travel a few more miles then turn off onto a road I could have sworn wasn't there just a few minutes ago. Risking a glance behind me, I watch as the road we're traveling on erases itself from existence, leaving tree after tree in its place. This must be what Will meant when he said The Compound was protected with cloaking wards, though knowing this does little to ease the disorienting dizzy feelings swirling around in my head.

  Hugging myself tighter to Will, I focus on watching the headlights of his motorcycle pierce through the darkness of the woods on either side of us, until what looks like a security checkpoint with large spot lights affixed to the corners of the building comes into view. Behind a large glass window two men watch us as we pull up. I look around but other than the small building I don't see anything except the surrounding forest. The road we were traveling on is completely gone now and I have to admit it’s really starting to freak me out not knowing what’s real and what isn’t.

  Shifting the bike into neutral, Will places both feet on the ground then removes his helmet to address the men in the booth. "Hey Pete. This is Hanna." Will indicates me with a nod of his head. Taking off my helmet I offer up a small wave. "Want to buzz us in?"

  Pete appears to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. His bright red hair is cropped short, military style, making the long white scar running from the edge of his hairline and along the side of his head all the way to back as far as I can tell, visible. I wonder if he sustained it from a fight with The Fallen, or if it was a mishap, a really bad one, during training or something. I kind of hope it's the latter. The Fallen are scary enough without imagining them carving into someone’s head for fun.

  "Sure thing kid." Pete pauses, his hand held over a small black button as he listens to something the other guy in the booth is saying. Turning back to Will he says, "Montgomery says to remind you that you still owe him a fifty from a poker game a few weeks ago and to pay up or he won't let me buzz you in."

  Will smiles mischievously. "Tell Montgomery I've already paid my debt by not telling his..."

  Montgomery shoves Pete out of the way then sticks his head out the window. With wide blue eyes and a slightly panicked look on his face he places a finger to his lips indicating that Will should say no more. "Dude, you swore you would never breathe a word of that to anyone."

  "Did I?" Will teases, a look of contemplation on his face.

  "You know you did." Half hanging out of the window Montgomery tries to swat at Will. Shifting out of reach, Will laughs.

  Now that I can see Montgomery better, he doesn't look that much older than Will, maybe a year or two if that. Like Pete, Montgomery's black hair is also cut military style. Maybe it's a requirement for working in the booth, along with matching outfits since they're both wearing black tactical looking gear.

  "Well in that case." Will pretends to zip his mouth shut then throws away the imaginary key.

  With a look of relief on his face Montgomery hits the black button.

  The sounds of a large gate opening echoes around me though I still can't see anything other than trees. I glance back over towards the booth only to find that it’s gone. Startled, I lean in closer to Will.

  Will peeks at me from over his shoulder with a mischievous grin just before he puts his helmet on. Trepidation at what exactly that smile could mean, creeps along my spine, sending goose bumps racing down my arms as I follow suit. Revving the engine he speeds toward a huge tree directly in front of us. On some level I know the tree isn't really there and that it's just some sort of glamour like the trees hiding the road to get here were, but still, it's hard to convince my eyes that what they are seeing isn't real. So naturally my heart ricochets upward to lodge in my throat, my eyes squeeze shut so tight I start to see stars, and I hug myself so firmly to Will I'm probably breaking his ribs.

  I can feel him laugh under my death grip so I force myself to try and relax. Easier said than done. Taking a second or two to slow my breathing I open one eye at a time. I'm still alive, we didn't slam head on into a giant tree, and all around me is a huge campus that's nothing at all what I was expecting The
Compound to look like. I was expecting something, I don't know, different. Something dreary, cold, and military like, but instead it looks more like a warm and inviting college campus one would find on a brochure with perfectly tended lawns, strategically placed benches, little trees, and flower gardens.

  Driving a little too fast, as always, down one of the streets Will makes a sudden turn to the left forcing me to hug myself to him once more for fear of falling off. Half way down the road he parks in front of a large building with double glass doors. Shutting off the engine he takes off his helmet, drapes it over the handle bar, then hops off the bike. "We're here," he announces.

  Nervous for completely different reasons other than imagined near death experiences at smashing into trees that aren't actually there and real near death experiences where Will's maniac driving is concerned, I take off my helmet with shaking hands I hope aren't too noticeable. "So this is where Jared is?" I ask like a moron considering the answer is completely obvious. Of course this is where Jared is.

  Seriously, why am I feeling so nervous? Jared and I are already together so why am I still acting like some crazy schoolgirl with a crush on her best friend who doesn't know it, though I secretly want him to know it, while at the same time not wanting him to know it? It’s crazy.

  "Yep," Will starts to walk backwards toward the steps leading up to the glass double doors. "Though technically this is the boys dorm, so you know, no girls allowed." He winks at me with a little grin as he punches in a code on a small silver keypad beside the door. With a bow and a wave of his hand he motions for me to enter first. "But I won't tell if you won't."

  We take the stairs up three flights, go halfway down the hall passing several rooms, then come to a stop outside of a plain cream colored door with a dry erase board nailed to the front. The names Fitz and Hernandez are scrawled across the board in typical sloppy guy handwriting. Little messages that I shouldn't be reading fill in the rest of the space.