First, one of the new survey tablets was missing from the trailer.He checked twice, even asked the two newest workers if they’d seen it, but no one had.Then he noticed the toolbox near the south wall was half open.Tools out of place.Not how he’d left it the night before.Hell, not even where he’d left it.No way would he leave his tools out like that.
Then there were the boot prints.Subtle, but wrong.The treads didn’t match their company issued boots.They weren’t steel capped, they were more like what the trainees wore.That one he could chalk up to a trainee wandering somewhere he or she shouldn’t be.That was very possible, but unease coiled in his gut.
That’s when his day turned to shit.Carson appeared out of nowhere.He juststrolled in from the west gate like he belonged there.Hardhat tucked under one arm, coffee in hand, and that same slick smile stretched across his face.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said, gaze skating too slow over Oren’s frame.“Hell of a day to build something.”
Oren kept his expression neutral.“You working this site today?Thought you were assigned over at East Ridge.”
“Swapped with a buddy.I like the company better over here.”
Oren turned back toward the layout plans, willing himself not to respond.Not to rise.Hoping that by ignoring the fucker he would leave.
Carson stepped closer.“You just going to ignore me then?You think you’re better than me and the rest of the crew?”
Oren tensed, and rose to his full height, keeping on his toes, ready to move if he needed.He had no idea why his body felt the need to ready itself for fight, but he wasn’t going to second guess it.“You need something, Carson?”
“Just looking for a friendly conversation.Or not.”He leaned in slightly.“Heard you had a rough time overseas, is that true?POW and all that?Bet it left some scars.Inside and out, right, Oren?I bet they sliced you up pretty good and had you begging to die.Did it hurt?All that blood, it had to have hurt like a motherfucker.”
Oren froze, the breath driven straight from his lungs.His hands clenched, jaw locking as a wave of dread surged through him.His entire being was hurled back in time—dust and blood and pain, the suffocating silence of a cell and the endless drip of water against stone.The chill of a concrete floor beneath his skin.The phantom sting of hands that held him down.For one paralyzing moment, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hear anything but echoes from a nightmare.
Oren registered, as if from a great distance, that Carson smiled, sipped his coffee, and walked off without another word.But the world had gone muffled, his awareness shrinking into a tunnel of horror.The bastard had dragged him right back into the worst of it, and even as Carson’s footsteps faded, Oren was trapped—paralyzed—reliving a memory soaked in fear, pain, and the metallic tang of blood and betrayal.
The chill stayed in Oren’s spine long after he was gone.
He stared after him, unsettled.That wasn’t just locker room gossip.Carson had known too much.And the way he’d said it—casual, knowing, invasive—it made Oren’s skin crawl.As the bastard disappeared from view, Oren felt the tremors in his hands and the sweat slick on his brow.He had to force himself to breathe.Slowly, methodically, he began to run through grounding techniques—naming five things he could see, four he could touch, three he could hear.It was something his therapist had drilled into him, and it took longer than he liked, but eventually the ringing in his ears dulled.The tremors ebbed.Only then did he return to his day, shaken but resolute.
Later, when he was walking back toward the trailer to check the inventory logs, he caught sight of Carson again, talking to another worker.His tone was easy, friendly, but his eyes—when they flicked to Oren—held something darker.A challenge, maybe.Or a warning.
He didn’t like it.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, jolting him.Dale.
“Hey,” he answered, trying to keep his voice steady.
“You okay?You sound weird.”Perceptive.
“Just a long day,” Oren replied, forcing a smile he knew Dale couldn’t see.
“Thought we might go on a date tonight—start with a little night mission and then I might cook again tonight.You, me, and Ty.”
Oren exhaled, grounding himself in the sound of Dale’s voice.“Yeah.That sounds ...really good.”
“Cool.Come dressed for action first.”
Oren chuckled.“Copy that.”
When the call ended, he stood there for a long moment, staring out across the site.The sky was blue, the Ridge was quiet, and everything felt wrong.He made a decision then and there.Tonight, he’d talk to Dale and Ty about Carson.About what he’d said.About the boot prints and the tablet and all the little things he didn’t want to believe meant something.
He wouldn’t keep secrets.He’d tell them once he’d figured it out in his head.
