Grayson Ryder: A Thief's Thrill

by M. L. Giles

  For a split second, it felt like my heart stopped beating. I wanted to deny his claim, but it was true – I had wanted to see this entire place, and everyone inside, burn to the ground. Lies of denial came to me, yet no words left my mouth. Even Colton looked worryingly my way.

  “Funny, isn’t it? How we both turned to the beautiful flames when we sought revenge.” Aiden gave me one final, macabre smile, the blood from his nose dripping off his chin. “We are more alike than you think, my friend. I daresay you may end up becoming the next Aiden, should you ever truly lose your dear Colton.”

  In a panic, I slammed the door shut, leaving the psychopath to his fate.

  Little noise came from the room I’d left Colton and Aiden in. I sat against the wall opposite the door, expecting a long session of screaming or cries for help, but all I heard was a repeated banging sound at one point which lasted all of thirty seconds.

  Had Aiden accepted what was happening? Maybe he had simply passed out? Or, perhaps, Colton was stopping him from screaming somehow?

  Who knows? Who cares? I certainly didn’t anymore. All I wanted was Aiden’s existence scrubbed from my memory.

  To my surprise, only ten minutes after leaving those two alone, Colton opened the door and walked out. I got up from off the floor, trying to look past him as I rose, but he closed the door quickly behind him.

  “That was fast. Is it over? Is he gone?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Colton grunted, still facing away from me.

  A tense silence followed once Colton had told me that. All the while he just stared at the door Aiden lay behind.

  “…Did you get it all out of your system, then?” I asked eventually. “I thought you’d be in there for much longer.”

  “Same here. Y’know, all I could think ‘bout since hearin’ what Aiden did was how badly I wanted to break every damn bone in his body, one after the other.” Colton turned to face me. Fresh blood was splattered on his face, arm, and the dirty sheet tied around his body.

  I raised my eyebrow inquisitively. “Did you?”

  “Nah. Not got it in me to torture folk, even someone like him.”

  I looked down at Colton’s fist. It dripped with blood, more than anywhere else on him. “Uh-huh… Did you punch him to death?”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t have a blade on me for a clean kill. Had to make do with what I got. You’re not upset with me, are you?”

  “At pounding in the skull of a man who set your dad on fire? No. I honestly expected much, much worse. I’m more surprised you even considered a quick death for that crazy scumbag.”

  “We ain’t the monsters he wants us to be, Gray. Now let’s get outta here.”

  I started walking down the hallway, back towards the stairs we had used to get up here. “No. There’s one last thing I need to do before we leave.”

  Perhaps Colton didn’t see himself as a monster, but I sure as hell felt like one. And this monster wasn’t finished yet.

  Colton had finally rid himself of the one that had caused him so much pain. Now, it was my turn.

  I went back to Aiden’s room, taking Colton along. Wendy and the other girl were still sleeping soundly in bed, unaware of their lover’s absence.

  “The hell we doin’ here, Gray?” Colton whispered beside me, trying not to wake the girls. “We ain’t takin’ Wendy with us, that’s for damn sure.”

  As I stood beside my former friend, looking down on her sleeping so peacefully, my mind became dominated by the red mist of anger.

  “Don’t worry, Colton. She’s not coming with us.”

  From my pocket, I slid out my survival knife, unfolded it, and held it mere inches from Wendy’s forehead.

  “Don’t!” Colton whispered desperately, only a second before my hand was about to plunge the knife into her head.

  I looked over at him, keeping the knife pointed down towards Wendy. “Why not? This is all her fault. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t do it.”

  “You ain’t a killer, that’s why.”

  After everything I had been through, his words felt hollow to me. “Of course I am! You saw what I did to that young guy earlier. I even killed Carl and the two people trying to hand him in. This is how we need to be in this ‘new’ world now, right?”

  “There’s a difference between takin’ a life out of necessity an’ what Aiden does.” Colton placed one large hand on my shoulder to give me a comforting squeeze, the same bloodied hand he had killed Aiden with. “Come on, this ain’t you.”

  “That’s a bit hypocritical of you,” I said quietly, with my sights fixed firmly on his hand. “Minutes ago, you punched Aiden to death because he caused you so much pain. She did the same to me with her betrayal.”

  “That ain’t why I did it in the end. I did it ‘cause I was scared.”

  I looked up at him, staring into his one open eye. “Scared? Of what?”

  “Aiden chasin’ us to the ends of the Earth. It’s all ‘bout survival, Gray – always was.” Colton gave me a smile, making the cut down the side of his face open slightly. “Not sayin’ I like what Wendy did either, but she is just tryin’ to find a safe place to have kids again. She felt this place was better for her survival than with us; can you blame her for that?”

  “Are you out of your mind?! She handed us all to Aiden! She handed your father to him as a fucking gift!” I snapped, almost losing control over my hushed voice.

  Colton looked away momentarily. “Yeah, I know she did…”

  The knife trembled in my hand. I wanted her dead so badly for betraying me, Thomas, Evan, Colton, all of us! There wasn’t a single reason I could think of to spare the life of this backstabbing bitch I once called a friend.

  “She has to pay for what she did!” I muttered, grasping the handle of the knife with a second hand to steady myself.

  Colton placed his hand on the back of my neck, pulling my head to look at him again. “If this is what you really want, then I won’t stop you. But she ain’t a threat to us, which means you’re ‘bout to kill for revenge. Actin’ that way makes us no better than Aiden. We’re better than that, ‘specially you, darlin’.”

  No one had ever called me their darling before or given me a loving nickname. It felt… nice. Almost nice enough to distract me.

  I yanked my head away and looked back down at Wendy, trying to refocus on the task at hand. Even with a second hand to steady myself, the knife still shook in my trembling hands. A million thoughts raced through my mind in the space of only a few seconds. A bead of sweat trickled down my face, rolling onto my top lip.

  The very second I tasted that salty sweat drop, I plunged the knife downwards.

  Colton let out a long, disappointed sigh, stopping suddenly when he saw I’d only stabbed the knife into the pillow, right beside Wendy’s head.

  Although I was doing this for Colton, ultimately, it was more to do with not wanting another life weighing down my already heavy conscience. All the death I had seen, all the lives I had taken… It was starting to change me as a person into someone I didn’t want to be.

  Sparing Wendy felt like a step towards getting the old Grayson Ryder back.

  My arms fell back to my sides, leaving the knife still embedded in the pillow.

  “Damn, I’m proud of you right now, Gray.” Colton paused to let out another long breath. “You leavin’ the knife?”

  “Yeah. It’s a message,” I answered. “Just letting her know how close to death she came. Speaking of sharp objects, yours is over there.”

  I gestured over towards the empty box that Aiden had intended to use for Colton’s remains. Colton looked over and spotted his machete lying beside it.

  “Misha!” he whispered happily before going over to retrieve her.

  There was nothing left to do here. We took our leave of Aiden’s sanity-draining room of gold, heading for the fire exit.

  The corridors of the hospital’s ground floor were alive with the sounds of drunken snoring. Everywhere you looked you coul
d see Aiden’s followers sleeping in various spots. One naked, drunk man stumbled right past us, not realizing who we were.

  “All right, fellas?” he had slurred in greeting.

  We didn’t bother with stealth, it didn’t seem necessary anymore. We walked casually, occasionally stepping over the odd sleeper who had failed to reach their bed before passing out.

  We left the hospital without a single bit of resistance, walking straight out of the fire door and into the rear car park. The morning sun shone its comforting rays of warmth on us, making me feel glad to be alive.

  Colton was meant to follow me to the car I’d used to get here, but he ended up walking away from me. After realizing he was heading towards what remained of his father in the middle of the car park, I followed him.

  Evan was unrecognizable. The fire that once burnt brightly on him was gone, leaving behind a featureless, blackened corpse.

  “Do you want to bury him?” I asked.

  Colton shook his head slowly, unable to pull his gaze away from the still-smoking body of his father.

  A respectable amount of time passed before I took Colton’s hand, gently tugging him away from this terrible place.

  As we walked through the woods, making our way towards the car, a man appeared suddenly from behind a tree near us. Colton immediately charged like a wild bull right at him, slamming into the man and sending him flying down to the ground.

  “Huh? Oh, wait! Wait!” I shouted after recognizing the fallen individual.

  Colton looked back at me with a confused look on his face.

  I walked up to the cowering Thomas, extending my hand to him. “Try not spooking the big guy next time. You okay?”

  “J-Just… about.” Thomas sounded winded. He took my hand, using it to pull himself onto his feet. “I saw you l-leave the hospital.”

  “Why are you still here, Thomas?” I asked. “You escaped hours ago.”

  “Well, you s-see, I’m not sure I can l-leave.” Thomas rubbed his arm, either because it hurt from the fall, or because he was embarrassed by his next choice of words. “I know she wants Aiden now, but I l-love Wendy! I can’t leave her here.”

  Colton folded his arms. I guessed he wasn’t too pleased to see the man who had helped Wendy in the first place.

  “Aiden’s dead,” I told Thomas.

  “Really?! You killed him?” he responded excitedly. Colton nodded once, confirming my words. “Then maybe I should go back! M-Maybe Wendy will want me now! What do you think, Grayson?”

  I really wanted to slap him for being such a love-sick puppy, one that keeps returning to their abusive owner. But if I had learned anything recently, it was that we do strange things when in love.

  Terrifyingly strange things.

  Besides, I was too physically and emotionally drained to care anymore.

  “Do what you want,” I walked past him with Colton beside me. “We’re leaving.”

  “Wait!” Thomas called out. We both stopped and turned to look at him. “L-Listen, I’m sorry, Colton, for my part in all t-this mess. And I’m sorry to you too, G-Grayson, for how I acted at the hospital. I realize now that if you hadn’t of d-defended us, we—ˮ

  “It’s fine.” I raised my hand to cut him off. “We just want to get out of here now. Do you want to come with us? Or are you going back in there to Wendy?”

  I think his heart wanted one thing, his head another; that’s the impression I got from his changing facial expressions, at least. “Hmmm… I’ll stay. T-Things might get better here without Aiden.”

  “Fair enough. Mind doing me a favour, then?” I asked.

  “S-Sure. What is it?”

  “Tell Wendy the knife in her pillow is from me.” I turned to walk off but paused when something else came to mind. “Oh, and tell everyone to search the top floor.”

  “Why there?” he asked.

  Colton answered that one for me. “Aiden’s there.”

  We reached the estate car I’d left behind an overgrown hedge on the edge of the field.

  I originally wanted Colton to drive because I felt so tired, but the torture he had endured was still taking its toll on his body. This forced me to do the driving for us.

  Just before I drove out of the field and onto a paved road that would take us away from here, I stopped the car.

  “Somethin’ wrong?” Colton asked me. He was sitting in the passenger seat, facing my way.

  “A bit, yeah. I don’t know where to go from here.” I rubbed the steering wheel with both hands in frustration, taking a deep breath. “Should we go back to the hotel and look for other survivors? Do we even want to see what became of that place after the fire? Come to think of it, wouldn’t we be better off alone to keep numbers low? If we get you rested first, then—ˮ

  “Gray-Gray-Gray,” Colton said hastily. I looked over at him. “What do you want to do? What’ll make you happy?”

  That was a bloody good question. I closed my eyes to think hard, hoping for an answer.

  Memories played in my mind of how the old Grayson Ryder used to be… He used to live for the day; he used to go out and steal for fun; he used to love being alive because, back then, it was all so simple.

  That’s what I wanted, to be my old self again.

  Just then, I remembered my sister’s words to me from that dream.

  “You have been, and always will be, Grayson Ryder: a selfish, sneaky, cunning son of a bitch with a heart of gold. So stop overthinking things! It’s not your style.”

  Her words rang true now more than ever.

  My eyes opened. All the answers came easier now that I was thinking more like my old self again. “Right now, I want a stiff drink – preferably while lying in a comfy bed. And I want a long, undisturbed sleep. I’m so tired of overthinking everything. I just want to live again. What about you, Colton?”

  “Sounds like heaven to me, darlin’.” He gave me a reassuring smile. “Let’s go to the nearest town an’ see what we can do. But first, c’mere.”

  Colton leaned over the handbrake towards me, I did the same to him. Our lips met in the middle for a lengthy kiss. It felt like a lifetime had passed since we had done that, almost bringing me to tears.

  Never again would it be that long. Never again…

  Once we were done, my foot went down on the accelerator, driving us forward to wherever the hell we wanted.

  Epilogue

  Family.

  Returning Home.

  Nightmares of the past still haunt me, even though it’s been roughly one year since Aiden died.

  I still see him in my dreams, wearing that monstrosity of a bathrobe and loaded with golden finery. Usually the bastard graces me with that creepy smile of his while whispering sweet, disturbing messages into my ear. Occasionally, he will call forth an army of unearthly yellow flames to incinerate me alive. Sometimes, after the fire dies down, I see an imagine of myself wearing his clothes, smiling his smile, borrowing his mannerisms.

  That night, as I dreamt of my skin turning to ash at the flaming hands of that madman, Colton shook me awake.

  “Hey, Gray? You all right?” he asked, still holding on to me from behind while we lay in our bed together.

  “Huh? Yeah… Yeah,” I said, rubbing the sweat from my brow. “I’m good. Sorry if I woke you up.”

  “You were tossin’ in your sleep again, figured it was another nightmare. Was it him?”

  “…Yes, it was,” I answered hesitantly, still reeling from seeing Aiden’s face.

  Colton pulled me back towards him. Our naked bodies pushed tightly together for our usual night-time spooning. “I gotcha. Try an’ get some sleep. Long trip tomorrow.”

  Colton doesn’t have these fiery nightmares I have, or so he tells me. Each night, if the nightmares come, he soothes me back to sleep by stroking my hair.

  We were woken in the morning by a man pounding his fist against our caravan door. “Rise and shine, ladies! You two awake in there?!” he shouted.

  Grumbling
with tiredness, Colton slid out of bed and into a pair of boxers. “That’ll be Samson.”

  “What does he want? He knows it’s our day off,” I yawned.

  More knocking came before Colton could answer the door to Samson, the leader of our new group.

  We met Samson months ago while out scavenging for supplies. First impressions were not great, to say the least. The guy had a big black beard, scruffy long hair, one arm fully tattooed, a beer belly, and a deep enough voice to terrify any child. The dirty leather and rusty chains he wore made Samson look more like a thug than a survivor.

  Colton and I had spent a few months after Aiden’s death travelling around, encountering many individuals driven to madness from the solitude of a world with so few people in it. Our initial thought when seeing Samson was pretty much, “Oh, joy, another crazy. Here we go again!”

  I’m glad we opted to talk first instead of whipping out the weapons.

  Samson turned out to be the leader of a group calling themselves The Pack; a sort of elite group of survivors. They were mostly comprised of people with skills and survival know-how rather than taking all-comers. The Pack used camper vans and tents to remain a mobile community, travelling around England in search of supplies, never staying in one place for too long – a smart move given the amount of bandit groups these days.

  The recruitment process for joining The Pack was a simple one: if you had something special to help Samson’s group prosper and were not crazy in the head, you were in. Colton was accepted in to The Pack on brute strength alone. I, on the other hand, wasn’t going to be accepted. Samson didn’t believe I had anything to offer his group other than another mouth to feed. That opinion changed after he discovered I’d pinched almost everything from his pockets, all without him noticing.

  When asked why I had taken his stuff in the first place, I replied with, “It’s better to disarm people early, in case they turn out to be dangerous.”