Greyson

Even though it was nearing three in the morning, my mind was sharp as I tried to make heads or tails of the information I’d received from Maxwell Tiller. I wasn’t even conscious of the black box I was riding in until the SUV came to a stop. When X opened my door, I was where I’d been nearly three hours earlier, back in the alleyway behind The Wasteland.

X handed me a plastic bag containing my gun, knife, and cell phone.

“Thanks,” I said out of habit, ...