Chapter 8 Tristan #2
One step back, pivot left. My hand flips the gun as I spin, finding him exactly where I knew he would be.
He's young, mid-twenties, a total deer caught in the headlights.
He shouldn't be here, and it's unfortunately too late for him to realize he's made the biggest mistake of his life because no matter what happens, this guy won't be leaving these grounds alive.
My gun is at his temple before he can blink.
"Don't."
He's shaking. "I—I wasn't—"
I press the barrel harder. "You have exactly five seconds to tell me who you are and what you're doing out here."
"Please…I’m just—"
"Watching. For him."
He nods, chin trembling.
I grab the back of his neck and force him to his knees. "Let's talk about what you've seen."
I drag him back to the clearing where Calder left his stone display. The boy sees it and loses whatever courage remained.
"That's not…we didn't do that. Why is that here?"
"Where is she?"
He lifts his head, tears streaking down his face. "Wh-who?"
Wrong answer.
My arm swings back and the butt of my gun cracks across his cheek. Blood explodes from his mouth.
He trembles violently. "I don't…I don't know anything. They just said to come here, to watch, to send a report—"
I throw him onto his back, straddling the space beside him.
"Perfect. Then watch this."
I holster my gun and pull my switchblade. The snap of the blade opening feels like my pulse finally finding rhythm.
His sobbing breaks into a higher, uglier sound.
Calder picked this trembling worm on purpose. A sacrificial spectator. A front-row seat to what I become without her.
The Ferryman wants a show. He wants proof of how far I'll go.
Unfortunately for both of us, this obsession has already sunk its claws too deep to pull out.
"Where is the woman he's holding hostage? The one with the red hair."
His breath hitches. So he knows about her. He's seen Keira.
"You've seen her."
He starts shaking his head. "N-No…I've only heard…people talk…I've never—"
I grab his wrist and snap one of his fingers sideways. His scream echoes through the lonely field.
"We're going to try that again. Where is she?"
He sobs into the dirt. "I don't know where she is. No one does. All I know is she's gone. They all are. He pulled everyone out."
"What about the child?"
He keeps crying. I shove his face deeper into the dirt until he starts choking.
"No one knows anything. We've heard…rumors. They said the Ferryman wants more than one heir."
The animal inside me comes loose. I break more fingers and this asshole shrieks, his hand curling inward like a crushed spider.
I lean in close. "No more lies. Tell me where he took them."
"I swear. I swear I don't know anything. Please—I'm begging you."
I smile down at him, realizing that torturing this boy because he's withholding information from me is making me a little too happy.
Maybe happy is the wrong word.
"I'll let you go."
His eyes fill with hope, and that's when a better ending for him comes to mind.
Killing him like this would be wasted.
Calder deserves an equally thoughtful message back.
I drag the watcher across the dirt toward the charred foundation. He sprawls on the ash-coated floor as I pull a canister of accelerant from my pack.
When he tries to crawl away, I move behind him and slice the backs of his ankles. The blade parts tendon and muscle. He screams so hard the veins in his neck look ready to burst.
"Your boss likes meaningful messages, so I'm going to write something back in his preferred style."
I pull my lighter from my pocket and flick it open.
The flame drops. Fire ignites instantly, climbing up the walls, across the floor.
Smoke coils toward the sky, thick and black, and my mark burns with it.
Behind me, the watcher shrieks as fire devours him.
I listen to every second until it becomes nothing but noise. I don't turn back because frankly, his death doesn't interest me. But the purpose of it does.
This isn't revenge. It's a warning.
I'm not afraid of the Ferryman. I don't care who he is or how powerful he thinks he is. He's no match for this need burning inside me.
I walk until the heat softens.
Then I remember the tracker inside my arm. Nick insisted on it before we left, but right now it's serving as a leash and I need it gone.
I take out my knife and don't hesitate, cutting into my skin. Blood pours down my arm as I dig for the hard edge of metal. The pain feels good—sharp and grounding.
When I finally dig the tracker free, I flick it onto the ground and crush it under my boot.
Nick will want to put my head through a wall when he figures it out.
I wish I cared, but I really don't. Not after what just happened.
If he can track me, then Calder can too.
Maybe that's why he knew we were coming.
But not anymore. Silence is a weapon, and Calder won't see shit until I'm already at his throat.
I wipe blood down my shirt, eyes fixed on the black void stretching across the Highlands.
"Hide her. Hide my son. Try."
Nothing could stop me from finding them.
My pulse and promise are steady because I believe every single word.
I turn toward the woods. "I'm coming for you, Red."
And when I reach the Ferryman, he'll beg for a death I won't give him.
The forest swallows me whole, greeting me with open arms like it knows exactly who I'm about to become.