2025-02-18 19:08:12Rain pours down hard, slicking the streets and turning the city into a glowing maze of neon reflections. Every light stretches across the wet pavement like a twisted, endless road. I weave through traffic, pushing the stolen motorcycle faster, ignoring the angry honks and flashing headlights.
The city is awake, moving, alive. It doesn’t care that I’m being hunted. It doesn’t stop for the man running for his life. I keep my breathing steady, my mind focused. But under the surface, something stirs. Fear? Doubt? Or something worse—guilt? I don’t know if I did what they say I did. That’s the worst part. The unknown. My own memories feel broken, like a puzzle with missing pieces. I don’t know what’s real. I don’t know who I can trust. I only know that stopping means death. I twist the throttle, forcing the bike to go faster. The cold wind lashes against my face, biting into my skin. It hurts, but it keeps me awake. Keeps me sharp. I had to ditch my old clothes, had to get rid of the blood, had to make myself invisible before they could close in. New clothes. New bike. Same problem. A flicker in my peripheral vision. I look up. A drone. Not just any drone—a military-grade model. Fast. Precise. Tracking. Hunting. I know that sound. The soft whir of its rotors cutting through the air, the way it moves like a predator locking onto prey. I shouldn’t recognize it, but I do. Like everything else, my instincts are working ahead of my thoughts. I duck lower, gripping the handlebars tight, and take a sharp turn into a narrow alley. The back wheel skids on the wet pavement, fishtailing wildly before catching grip again. One mistake, one wrong move, and I’ll be splattered across the street. Up ahead—a traffic camera. I react without thinking. My body knows what to do before I do. I tilt my head, shift my posture, hide my face just enough to stay unseen. Old habits. Buried reflexes. Things I shouldn’t know but do. The drone tilts, adjusting, recalibrating. They’re watching. Tracking me. If I don’t lose them now, I never will. I need to disappear. Fast. A parking garage looms to my right. Perfect. I swerve hard and fly up the ramp, the roar of the engine echoing in the empty space. Rows of abandoned cars flash past me. I only have five seconds. I swerve behind a thick concrete pillar, cut the engine, and leap off the bike. Three seconds. The drone’s scanning light floods through the gaps in the structure, searching. Two. I press my body flat between two parked cars. The cold metal chills my skin. The hum of the drone grows louder, vibrating in the air like a warning. One. The drone hovers just outside. Its red targeting light flickers, blinking like a slow heartbeat. Watching. Waiting. Then—silence. It moves on. I don’t breathe. Not for five full seconds. Then I exhale, slow and controlled. It’s gone. For now. I can’t stay here. They’ll keep looking. They won’t stop until they find me. I pull out the note from my pocket, the paper slightly damp from the rain. I unfold it carefully and stare at the message again: "Don’t trust your memories." Beneath those words, a set of coordinates. I don’t recognize them. I don’t know where they lead. But they’re my only lead. My only hope of getting answers. But the thought keeps clawing at my brain, refusing to leave me alone. What if they’re right? What if I really did it? I shake my head, pushing the doubt away. I don’t have time for that. Right now, all that matters is getting to the safe house. Because someone left me this note. Someone wanted me to survive. I don’t know who. I don’t know why. But I’m going to find out. And when I do—I’ll finally know who I really am.
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SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 4
The warehouse stands ahead, its rusted walls blending into the dark edges of the city. The coordinates led me here. Something in my gut tells me I’ve been here before. But my memory? Blank.I stop the bike a block away, rolling it into the shadows. Never walk straight into the unknown. Always have an escape plan.The air smells like oil and decay. The windows are broken. The wood is rotting. A perfect hiding place for someone who doesn’t want to be found. Or someone who doesn’t want to remember.I run my hand along the steel doorframe, feeling for anything strange. My fingers catch on a small groove—a tiny mark left by someone who knew this place well. Someone like me.The lock needs a six-digit code. My hands move before I can think. My fingers press the numbers on their own.Beep. The lock clicks open.Inside, the room is empty except for a few mattresses, a stash of weapons, a rusted sink, and a small desk with an old laptop.The second I step in, my chest tightens. Familiar. Not s
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 5
The sound of the collapsing building still pounds in my ears as I run. My breath is fast and sharp, cutting through the cold night air. The backpack slams against my back with every step, the laptop inside pressing against my spine. The Oath isn’t just trying to scare me—they want me dead.The city around me is a maze of flickering streetlights, old brick walls, and neon lights reflecting in puddles from last night’s rain. I dart through the alleyways, my boots barely making a sound on the wet pavement.Behind me, shadows move together. No rushing. No wasted steps. They know me. They know how I fight.I push harder.The alley ahead gets narrower. The walls close in. I jump over a chain-link fence, my muscles burning as I hit the ground hard on the other side. I twist as I land, pulling out my Glock 19 and firing two shots at the closest shadow. One body drops, but I don’t have time to check.They keep coming.A figure lunges from the side. A punch slams into my ribs. Wrong move. My bo
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 6
The engine hums under my hands as I drive through the city, weaving between cars, pushing the SUV harder than I should. My knuckles grip the wheel tight, blood from the earlier fight drying on my skin.I don’t know where I’m going—just away.The neon lights blur past, their colors reflecting off the windshield. My heart is still racing, adrenaline refusing to fade. My body aches, bruises forming under my clothes, but none of that matters right now.I reach into my pocket, fingers brushing against a crumpled note. I already know what it says, but I pull it out anyway.Elias Graves.The name feels heavy, like a weight pressing down on me.The second I read it, pain explodes in my head. A sharp, blinding ache cuts through my skull. Images flash—fast, chaotic. A man’s voice, rough and urgent. A promise, broken. Gunfire.I jerk the wheel, barely missing a parked car. My breath is ragged.The name means something.The flashes fade, leaving a dull throb in my head and a cold unease in my gut
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 7
The cheap motel room smells like old cigarettes and damp carpet. The kind of place where people disappear, where the walls hold too many secrets. It’s perfect for hiding. And right now, that’s exactly what I need.Outside, a flickering neon sign casts red and blue flashes through the thin curtains, painting the walls like a broken strobe light. I watch the colors shift, almost hypnotized, but not enough to ignore the heavy weight in my chest.I sit on the edge of the bed, head in my hands, fingers pressing against my temples. The headache is sharp, relentless, pounding at the back of my skull. I shut my eyes, trying to focus. Trying to remember.A name keeps echoing in my mind.Elias Graves.It won’t go away. It’s like a splinter under my skin—always there, always itching. I’ve spent hours searching, calling in favors, hacking into databases that should have been impossible to access. Nothing.No records. No background. It’s like he never existed.And yet, I know he’s important.I lea
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 8
The USB drive is small, cold against my fingers. I turn it over, feeling its weight. Not just plastic and metal—something more. Something important. I found it in my jacket, hidden in a secret pocket I don’t even remember using. My mind races. How long has it been there? Did I hide it myself? Or did someone else?My pulse is steady, but my breathing is shallow. I don’t like unknowns. And right now, my whole life is an unknown.I grab the disposable laptop from the motel desk and power it up. It’s slow, the kind of cheap tech I use when I don’t want to be traced. The motel’s Wi-Fi is useless, but I’m not connecting to anything. I slide the USB into the port, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.The files are a mess. Corrupt data. Half-erased fragments. Someone tried to destroy this information, but they didn’t do a clean job.One document is still readable.I lean forward, the glow of the screen the only light in the room.You made the right choice, Nathan. But they will never let yo
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 9
The train station is full of people—families pulling heavy bags, businessmen staring at their phones, a couple whispering in the corner. To them, it’s just another normal day.To me, it’s a trap waiting to happen.I keep my head down, my jacket heavy on my shoulders. My ribs still ache from the last fight, but pain doesn’t matter right now. The Oath is hunting me. I can feel it, a weight pressing against my spine, a shadow creeping just out of sight.I check the arrival board. Three minutes until the next train. Too long. Too dangerous. I need to keep moving.A mother walks past me, holding her child’s hand. A businessman checks his watch. A station worker wipes down a bench. It looks normal. But something about it feels off.My instincts take over, scanning for details that don’t fit. The worker’s uniform is too stiff, too clean. The businessman’s hands don’t match his expensive suit—knuckles rough, like a man who fights. The mother? Her shoes. Tactical boots.My pulse slows, my focu
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 10
I don’t have time to bleed.The train rumbles beneath me, the cold metal pressing into my back as I stare up at the dark sky. My shoulder is a mess, my ribs feel like they’ve been crushed, and my head won’t stop pounding from the fight at the station. But pain doesn’t matter. The Oath is still after me. I need to keep moving.I climb down the side of the train, slipping through the door into an empty car. The overhead lights flicker, casting shadows on the torn seats and graffiti-covered walls. No passengers. Good. I need a moment to think.I drop onto a seat, pressing my fingers against the wound on my shoulder. Not deep, but still bleeding. I rip a strip from my ruined shirt and wrap it tight. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do for now.My mind shifts back to the USB drive. The corrupted files. The message.You made the right choice, Nathan. But they will never let you walk away.What choice? What did I do?I don’t remember. But someone does. And if The Oath wants me alive, it means I’m
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 11
I pushed open the rusted metal door. The smell of cigarette smoke and old wiring filled my nose.The underground hacking den looked the same—dim lights, walls lined with servers, the air thick with heat and tension. The glow of computer screens painted the room in blue and green light. Some people were lost in their screens, others watched me carefully.And then, I saw her.Riley sat at a desk, typing so fast it made my head spin. The moment she noticed me, she stopped. Then, she sighed and leaned back in her chair, throwing her boots up on the desk.“Well, well. Look who’s still alive.” She crossed her arms, smirking. “What do you want, Nathan?”Her voice was playful, but her sharp hazel eyes were already scanning me, calculating the risks.I stepped forward. “I need your help.”She let out a short laugh. “Last time I helped you, I almost got killed. Remember that?”I did. Too well. She barely made it out that night. She saved me. And I never forgot the way her hands shook after.“I
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CHAPTER 22
Ghost in The Code The cursor blinks at me, waiting. Taunting. My fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitant, knowing that once I start, there’s no turning back. The files in front of me—heavily redacted, barely readable—are a graveyard of secrets. Each line of text feels like a headstone, with names and truths buried under black ink meant to keep the past silent.But ghosts don’t stay buried forever.Riley’s voice cuts through the silence. “This doesn’t make sense.” Her brows pull together, lips pressed tight. That look—I know it well. Frustration. “Why would they go to this much trouble to redact everything unless they were hiding something?”I don’t answer. Not because I don’t have thoughts—oh, I have plenty—but none of them are comforting.I close my eyes for just a second. The memory rushes in, unwanted.Julian. Blood on his lips. Breaths too fast, too shallow. His fingers gripping my sleeve like holding on to me could someho
CHAPTER 21
Echoes of the PastThe low hum of Riley’s laptop filled the dimly lit room, the blue glow casting restless shadows along the walls. She was in full hacker mode—head down, fingers a blur across the keyboard, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she cut through layer after layer of encryption.I paced behind her, restless. My head throbbed like a live wire, a pulsing ache just behind my eyes.“Come on, come on…” Riley muttered.I pressed my fingers against my temple, exhaling sharply. “How much longer?”She huffed, her voice tight with concentration. “Do you want it fast, or do you want it done right?”The air between us crackled with impatience. I raked a hand through my hair and glanced at the screen. Strings of code unraveled in real time, revealing classified mission logs. My name was all over them. Too many times.Then—something shifted.The pain in my head sharpened, slicing through my skull like a hot blade. My vision blurred.And suddenly, I wasn’t in the room anymore.---
CHAPTER 20
Rain slicked the pavement beneath my boots as I stalked toward the abandoned warehouse, my pulse a steady drumbeat in my ears. Riley was three steps behind me, silent, her presence a shadow at my back.I knew this was suicide.Breaking into The Oath’s headquarters was one thing. Confronting Julian inside it? That was a death wish wrapped in arrogance.But there was no other way.The questions burned too deep. This wasn’t just about what Julian did. It was about what I did.I had spent years running from my past. Now, I was about to rip it open like an old wound.Riley’s voice was quiet but sharp. “This is insane.”“I know.”“You’re walking into the lion’s den.”“I know.”She exhaled hard, then grabbed my arm. “Then tell me why.”I turned to face her, and for a moment, I saw something in her eyes—fear. Not for herself. For me.Because she knew me well enough to understand one t
CHAPTER 19
Rain hammered against the cracked windshield as I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles white. Riley sat in the passenger seat, her laptop open, fingers flying over the keyboard. The glow of the screen flickered across her face, but I barely saw it.All I saw was the past.Julian.A name that burned like acid in my throat."You’re spiraling," Riley muttered, her voice tight.I wasn’t.I was drowning.Julian wasn’t just another ghost in the dark. He was once my brother, not by blood but by bond. We bled together, fought together, saved each other too many times to count. And now, he was the one pulling the strings. The Oath wasn’t hunting me because I was a loose end.They were hunting me because Julian ordered it."You gonna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?" Riley asked.I exhaled slowly, staring at the road ahead. The wipers dragged across the windshield, smearing water
CHAPTER 18
The motel room smelled like stale coffee and bad decisions. Riley sat cross-legged on the bed, her laptop balanced on her knees, fingers flying over the keyboard. The glow of the screen illuminated her face—sharp, focused, determined.I stood by the window, watching the empty parking lot, gun resting on the nightstand beside me. My ribs ached from earlier, but pain was the least of my concerns.We weren’t safe.Not yet."Tell me you have something," I muttered, turning to her.Riley didn’t answer right away. Her eyes darted across the screen, her brow furrowing deeper with each passing second.Then she whispered, "No. No way."Something about her tone made my stomach tighten. "What is it?"She exhaled sharply, rubbing her forehead before looking up at me. Her expression was unreadable—shock, anger, maybe even fear."Nathan… you need to sit down."I didn’t. I couldn’t."Talk."
CHAPTER 17
The engine roared beneath me as I tore through the city streets, headlights slicing through the dark. Riley had gone north—I was heading south.We needed distance. And a plan.I gritted my teeth, my pulse hammering. The Oath wasn’t going to let us walk away from this. They’d keep coming.Unless I stopped them first.My earpiece crackled. "Nathan, I made it to the fallback point," Riley’s voice came, tense but steady."Good. Stay put. I’m going to buy you time.""You mean you’re going to do something reckless.""Same thing."Silence. Then, "Just don’t get yourself killed."No promises.I cut the lights on the SUV and veered off the main road, tires skidding across cracked asphalt. The industrial district—perfect. Empty buildings. Limited exits. A damn good place for an ambush.I needed them to follow.I reached under my jacket, pulled out my burner phone, and sent a single text
CHAPTER 16
The moment Riley disappeared into the night, I forced my mind into lockdown.No distractions. No hesitation.Just survival.The Oath was closing in, and I knew they wouldn’t stop at foot soldiers. They wanted me erased. And now, James—**someone I thought was dead—**was standing in front of me, gun raised."You’re dead," I said, gripping my own weapon tighter.James smirked. "Not quite. But you might be soon."I didn’t wait for him to pull the trigger.Move.I dove sideways as his first shot cracked through the air. The bullet tore into the asphalt where my head had been a second ago. I hit the ground rolling and fired twice—but he was already gone.Melted into the shadows.Typical James—fast, precise, always one step ahead.I stayed low, scanning for movement.Where are you?A faint scuff of a boot—behind me.I twisted—just in time to block the knife swinging
CHAPTER 15
I had seen death before. Felt its breath on my neck. But nothing compared to the cold terror that ran down my spine as Riley’s screen flickered, glitched, and then displayed a single message in bold, chilling letters:“You should have stayed hidden, Nathan.”My chest tightened.Riley froze, her fingers hovering uselessly over the keyboard. The hum of her computer, usually steady, now felt like a warning. The color drained from her face."Shit," she whispered. "They found us."A second later, the power cut out. Darkness swallowed the room, except for the faint red glow of the emergency battery. I reached for my gun. Every muscle in my body locked up, wired tight.Then—Glass shattered.A high-pitched whine filled my ears as a bullet tore through Riley’s monitor, sending sparks and shards flying. We hit the ground, my arm wrapping around her instinctively as more shots thundered through the air. The sharp scent of
CHAPTER 14
Riley is too quiet.Not her usual kind of silence—the one where she’s working, focused, fingers flying over the keyboard. This is different.This is the kind of silence that makes my skin crawl. That makes my pulse stutter before my brain even catches up.I step closer. "What is it?"She doesn’t answer. Just stares at the screen like it holds something impossible. Like the words on it changed everything."Riley," I snap. "Talk to me."She flinches. Slowly, she turns to face me, and the look in her eyes hits me like a gut punch.Fear.Not the kind where something feels off.The kind that’s personal.The kind that has my name written all over it.My stomach knots. "What the hell did you find?"She hesitates, then takes a deep breath and spins the laptop toward me.At first, I don’t understand what I’m looking at. A security log. A list of names.And then I see mine.Nathan Vale.My heartbeat slams against my ribs.Next to my name: A timestamp. A location. A red warning.PRESENT AT CLASS
