Chapter 16: The Hunt begins

Devan sat in his dimly lit apartment, his laptop screen casting a faint glow across his face. His eyes scanned the information he had gathered, his fingers drumming against the desk as he processed every detail. He had them all, every single one of them. Their schedules, their routines, their weaknesses. He wasn't rushing this. No, he had waited too long to make a mistake now.

His phone buzzed. A message from Josie.

Josie: Hey, you. Haven't heard from you today. Everything okay?

For a moment, his fingers hovered over the keyboard. Josie. She was the one part of his life that felt… different. Warm. Safe. But could he afford safe? Not now. Not when he was finally getting justice. He locked his phone and set it aside. He couldn't let emotions cloud his judgment.

A knock on his door made him tense. He wasn't expecting anyone. He quickly shut his laptop and moved towards the door, keeping quiet. Another knock, this time more urgent.

"Dev? Open up, man."

Marty.

Devan sighed in relief but didn't let his guard down. He unlocked the door and let Marty in.

Marty stepped inside, looking around. "Damn, man, you finally got a place, huh?" He whistled, glancing at the barely furnished room. "Could use a little personality, though."

Devan smirked slightly. "Not here to judge my decorating skills, are you?"

Marty plopped down on the couch, stretching his legs. "Nah, just checking in. You've been quiet lately."

"I've been busy," Devan said simply.

Marty's eyes flickered to the desk where the laptop was still warm. He didn't say anything, but he knew. He knew Devan was up to something. And it worried him.

"You know," Marty started, leaning back, "sometimes I wonder if you ever think about the future. Like, really think about it."

Devan frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, where do you see yourself in five years? Ten? Are you just gonna keep working this job, living in this empty place, and…" Marty hesitated, then sighed. "Never mind."

Devan's jaw tightened. He knew what Marty was really asking. Are you going to let go?

But he wasn't ready to answer that.

Marty clapped his hands together and stood up. "Anyways, I was around your area and just wanted to make sure you were alive. Don't be a stranger, alright?"

Devan nodded. "Yeah."

Marty walked to the door, pausing before leaving. "Oh, and Dev?"

Devan looked up.

"Whatever you're planning… be careful."

Devan didn't respond. He just watched as Marty walked away, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Devan turned back to his laptop. His eyes hardened as he clicked open the files again.

No distractions. No second thoughts.

One by one, they were all going to pay.

The Next Day…..

Devan stared at the screen, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk. He had everything planned. Every step calculated. He wasn't going to be reckless, he had waited too long for this moment. And now, it was time.

Eli.

He was the easiest target. No family watching over him 24/7, no security. Just an unsuspecting man living his life like he hadn't helped ruin someone else's.

Devan had watched him for weeks. Eli's routine was predictable. Work, drink, smoke, lie to his pregnant girlfriend, and repeat. He always took the same route home, a quiet, dimly lit road just outside the city.

Tonight, Devan would make his move.

11:43 PM…

Eli stumbled out of a bar, his movements sluggish. He reeked of alcohol, his shirt wrinkled, sweat lining his forehead. He muttered something to himself as he reached for his car keys.

Devan, hidden in the shadows of an alley, watched as Eli fumbled to unlock his car. He wasn't going to let him get home tonight. Not in one piece.

As Eli finally got the car started and pulled out onto the empty street, Devan followed on his motorcycle, keeping his distance. The road stretched ahead, silent and deserted. It was perfect.

Eli swerved slightly, his drunken state making him a terrible driver. Devan sped up, gripping the handlebars tighter. His heartbeat was steady.

He had rehearsed this moment over and over again.

Eli reached a sharp curve in the road, a deadly one if you weren't careful.

Devan accelerated. Just as Eli was about to straighten his car after the curve, Devan pulled up beside him and slammed his motorcycle against the car's side.

Eli panicked, jerking the wheel too hard. His car spun out of control.

For a split second, time seemed to slow down.

The vehicle skidded off the road, smashing through the guardrail. Then, it tumbled down the steep hill, flipping violently before finally coming to a crumpled, steaming stop at the bottom.

Devan parked his motorcycle a distance away and walked toward the edge of the hill, peering down. He could see the wreck, see the smoke rising.

No movement. No sounds.

Eli was dead.

Devan didn't smile. Didn't feel relief. He just turned, got back on his bike, and rode away.

One down.

The Next Morning

The city buzzed with news of the "tragic accident." The headlines read:

"Local Man Dies in Car Crash – Suspected Drunk Driving"

Devan ate his as he watched the news report from his phone. The police weren't suspecting foul play. Not yet. To everyone else, it looked like Eli had simply lost control of his car.

But Devan knew better.

Then, something made him pause.

The news anchor's next words sent a chill down his spine.

"The police are now reviewing nearby CCTV footage to determine the full circumstances of the accident. Authorities say they are looking for any possible witnesses who may have seen what happened."

Devan set his coffee down slowly.

CCTV footage?

He had been careful. He had made sure there weren't any cameras on that road. But still, the possibility that something had caught him in the background made his pulse quicken.

A knock on his door made him freeze.

It was loud. Firm.

Devan swallowed hard, his mind racing.

Was it them?