Chapter 8 Grayson
EIGHT
GRAYSON
The first scream is always the best.
Tanner regains consciousness with a ragged inhale, his body jerking violently against the restraints as fresh pain registers. The nails in his skin. The ache in his skull. The blood drying in his hair. The cold night air tearing away the heat from his body.
Danny grins from his seat on the truck bed. “Our boy is waking up.”
I set aside the hunting blade I was sharpening and tossed the nail gun in my hand, catching it with a satisfying click. “Let’s give him a nudge.”
Two sharp pops.
Tanner screams as the nails sink into soft flesh, thrashing against the rope, suspending him naked and bloodied from the rafter.
“Wakey wakey, sunshine,” Danny taunts, a sinister glint flickering in his eye.
I move to crouch beside him, leveling my gaze with his. He’s pale, drenched in sweat. His pupils are blown wide—shock setting in.
“Good evening,” I say, voice mocking, casual. “Glad you could join us.”
He swallows, eyes darting, trying to piece it together. “W-why are you doing this?”
He’s strung up by his feet adjacent to an empty pit with the concrete mixer cycling nearby. A bit worse for wear after his earlier beating, he’s black and blue with pretty shades of purple emerging.
I lean closer, flicking one of the embedded nails in his shoulder before grabbing a scruff of his hair and forcing him to look at me, cutting short his whimper. “You really need to ask?”
He blinks, breath ragged, and I see it—the moment realization sinks in.
“Harassment, assault, vandalism, violence…that’s just this week. You've got quite the inventory racked up before that.”
“I-I’m sorry! Really! I-” he begs. Danny cuts him off with a shot of an arrow from his crossbow, grazing Tanner’s ribs and embedding itself into the graffitied drywall behind him.
He screams, “Fuck man! That was close! Is that thing fucking real?”
Danny begins loading another. “Yep. Sharp, too,” he deadpans without looking up. I release his head as Tanner begins thrashing and wailing. We tolerate his obnoxious noise until he runs out of breath.
“What do you want? Money? You can have it!”
“Tanner, money can’t buy a fix for your shitshow now. Nothing can.”
I load a sack with rubble, testing its weight.
“You’re tonight’s sport. Don’t worry, once we catch you, it’ll be quick… ish. I’m on a tight schedule. I’ve gotta go fix the damage you did to my girl.”
“I never touched a fucking girl!” He bites out in a raspy breath.
The sack swings. Connects with his ribs.
He wheezes. Piss runs down his body.
I smile. “Why do you lie to me?”
I crouch down by his head, driving my message home, my voice low and primal. “That girl you threatened? She’s mine.”
I stared at him for a second before standing and giving Danny the nod as I walk to my truck. He aims his crossbow at the strapping around Tanner’s feet. The rope snaps. Tanner hits the ground hard, writhing in pain.
I glance at my watch. “You’ve got ten minutes. Run.”
He hesitates.
“Run.”
He scrambles to his feet, limping toward the tree line, and disappears into the darkness.
Danny snorts. “Ten minutes? Generous.”
I smirk. “If I only gave him five, it wouldn’t be fun.”
Grabbing our gear and crossbows, we close up the truck, giving each other a nod, and split up prowling into the night.
###
We head back to the gym to clean up. Having access to industrial chemicals, surveillance feeds, and cleaning facilities has its perks.
I jump in the shower to wash off.
So much blood. The hunt took an unexpected turn toward the end resulting in more bloodshed than I’d usually like to spill.
But it was satisfying all the same.
It spirals down the drain, disappearing into the abyss. Out of sight. Out of mind. Like the life it bled from.
Poetic.
Danny has an epiphany in the next stall. “Hey, so, does Pippa know you’re… well, DystopiaNet-you?”
“No, not yet.”
“Viv said she mentioned needing new deadbolts? Did you break in?”
“Maybe,” I curtly reply. Danny feigns his shock with a theatrical gasp.
But a damage-control idea is already taking form.
With one last sweep and a check off of our gear, we lock up, cast each other a nod, and go our separate ways.