Page 256 of Primal

The LED flickers—one weak pulse, like a dying heartbeat, then—

Gone.

The jammer’s military-grade. Solid. Unbreakable.

And now I’m blind.

Chapter Ten

110 BPM.

Last number I got before the world flatlined. No coordinates. No pulse.

My reflection blurs in the glass. Maybe if I stare long enough, I’ll catch her heartbeat. Maybe I’ll see—

Nothing. Just the monster who let her slip away.

Should’ve dragged her back to my car kicking and screaming.

Should’ve locked her in my basement—safe from everyone but me.

Where she’d be mine. Only mine.

Instead, I played this fucking game.

Now she’s out there with a Ghostface who gutted that pretty boy like a fish.

He has her. Or he’s hunting her.

Maybe he’s already finished.

In her.

With her.

Every shadow could be Payton—running, laughing, dying—and I wouldn’t know until I taste her blood in the wind.

I shake the watch. Slam it against my thigh. Useless. Just glass and circuitry. An open grave.

My fist meets the tree. Wood cracks. Splinters bury deep. I lick my knuckles. Burn tastes like copper. Pine. Her.

The air’s electric. Storm coming.

Fuck it.

I’ll find her the way predators do.

I’ll peel back every shadow in this forest. Until the earth itself gives her back.

Think.

Could be The Verge throwing up a blackout. No live feeds. No surprises.

Or maybe it’s him—slithering through their blind spot.

Question is, did they plant the jammer, or is someone carrying it?

Stationary means I can find the edge. Reconnect.