Chapter Text

The sand was warm beneath her face. It bit into the soft skin of her cheeks as she was pressed into the ground by the old man who knelt on her back, twisting her arm behind her painfully. The other one - the one with no pants - stood over them, pointing a gun. It was night in the desert, but the arid environs still held the heat it had absorbed during the day. Ashley took a breath to call for help and choked on the dust

It was, she knew, useless anyway.

They weren’t ten feet from the busy freeway, but no one would stop. The cars kept whizzing past without a seeming care. Perhaps the people inside convinced themselves it was a low budget movie being filmed in the foothills of the mountains encircling LS. Or perhaps they thought someone else would stop and help, or at least call the police. Or perhaps – and this Ashley accepted with cynical resignation as the most likely of the options – they simply didn’t care. Too busy heading into the city, towards important meetings and dream fulfilment, to even notice the scene taking place in the shadows off the side of the road; briefly illuminated by their headlights as they zipped past, mind focused on that one line pitch that would blow some unsuspecting movie producer away.

In the face of all that potential fame and riches, what was one more minimum wage waitress snatched away in the dead of night?

Best to not get involved. You could end up making things worse. Besides, all the news sites agreed. These cult people were crazy.

‘Zapho has spoken!’ the man with the gun cackled suddenly with a laugh. ‘You have lost your right to youth through your fiendish ways. We shall take it back.’

‘Eat of the flesh, drink of the blood,’ the other snarled as Ashley writhed beneath him. ‘We shall be free once more.’

Something warm and wet dripped onto Ashley’s shoulder blade, between the straps of her tank top, and she realised with disgust that the old man was drooling.

‘Get off of me,’ she said, keeping her voice calm. ‘You’re making a mistake.’ She had to stay calm; had to think her way out of this. Because thinking was all she had. But it was also something she was good at. If she could just focus long enough, she could see it – a brief chasm of a path between the sheer mountains she was hurtling towards at speed. If she lined herself up, just right, she could find her way through and avoid being smashed into those rocky outcrops.

‘Shut up, filth!’ one of the men snapped.

‘I mean it!’ she persisted. ‘I am a messenger from Zapho.’

The man on top of her scoffed, but it was a little delayed - held up by a moment of hesitant doubt. He looked at his companion, as if for confirmation, and said, ‘Why would Zapho send one of the unworthy generation?’

‘I am not!’ Ashley’s head was beginning to ache, but the path felt right. ‘I have achieved what you seek. Zapho blessed me with the gift.’

The two men looked at each other. The one with the gun scratched his dirty beard and said, with eyes widened, ‘Eternal youth…’

‘That’s right,’ Ashley said, her breath puffing up a little cloud of sand. ‘Now, get off me and I can share this gift. As Zapho intended!’

She felt the man’s grip loosen and elation swelled her chest painfully between the weight of him and the press of the hard ground. He was going to do as she said. She knew it.

But almost as soon as the thought entered her head, as she just began to hope that she could make a clean getaway from this, the disturbing realisation that things could, and would, get much worse arrived in the form of tyres screeching on tarmac.

Against all the odds, someone had stopped. A passing truck had skidded to a halt and was now reversing back to them. The men watched it approach, uncertain how to react, but wary of this intrusion.

‘Well, well, well,’ said the man behind the wheel of the red Bodhi, as he drew level with the group and looked down at them in interest. ‘This looks like a fun party! My invitation must’ve got lost in the mail. Don’t worry,’ he held up a hand placatingly as the two old men shifted uncomfortably, ‘I forgive you fellas.’

‘Get out of here,’ the one with the gun warned. ‘This don’t concern you.’

‘Let me guess,’ the man continued, as if a weapon wasn’t being brandished in his direction. ‘Altruists?’

The old men looked at each other, expressions blank.

‘What’s it to you?’ asked the one still sitting on Ashley, tightening his grip on her arms again. The newcomer had barely glanced in the young woman’s direction.

‘Oh, nothing,’ the stranger shrugged casually, but his eyes glinted dangerously. ‘I just thought I’d already got rid of all you fuckers.’

It took a moment for the meaning behind these words to sink in with the two crazed baby boomers, and by the time it did it was already too late. The one with the gun took aim at the truck and was hit square in the chest by a round from a shotgun. The strange man, not missing a beat, jumped nimbly from the cab of the red truck, heavy work boots churning up a cloud of dust, took aim at the altruist on top of Ashley, and squeezed the trigger. A second shot blew the creepy old man right off her back, and she could finally breathe properly again.

Ashley’s chest heaved as she drew in a heavy lungful of air. It was the only part of her that did move, as she lay tensed and ready, waiting to see what the unpredictable stranger would do next. She wasn’t naïve to the situation. She knew this wasn’t a rescue.

It was a vendetta.

The danger hadn’t passed. It had just switched directions.

But after a slow moment of silence passed, Ashley relaxed just a fraction. The whole confrontation hadn’t lasted half a minute. Pushing herself up she saw what remained of the altruist, half of his face and head missing, lying splattered in a patina of gore across the sand.

‘Jesus Christ,’ she whispered.

Behind her the man with the shotgun had begun howling with crazed laughter. ‘No one!’ he shouted at the first dead body. ‘No one tries to sacrifice Trevor Philips and gets away with it!’

‘Oh, Jesus Christ,’ Ashley whispered again, twisting around to face the last man standing, watching him with more curiosity than the fear the situation warranted.

The man, who called himself Trevor Philips, turned to look at her suddenly and in the glaring light of the high beams from his truck she got her first good look at him. He looked, to put it simply, like an addict. His dirty, ill-fitting t-shirt and sweatpants covered a wasted, but muscular form. His dark hair was balding on top, despite the fact that he couldn’t be too far into his forties, and a heavy brow overshadowed a pair of dangerously crazed brown eyes. A dotted line was inked across his throat with the instructions Cut Here.

Ashley knew him for what he was immediately. A dangerous psychopath.

But then, so were the men he had just killed.

He had been regarding her the whole time she had been him, but the only clue he gave as to his inner thoughts was a curt grunt. Shouldering the shot gun, he turned and walked back to his truck, leaving Ashley sitting on the ground. He didn’t speak to her until he had pulling the driver’s side door open. Standing with one foot inside, a hand on the top bar of the roll cage, he swung himself back around to look at her.

‘You coming or what?’ he called.

‘What?’

‘Suit yourself,’ he shrugged and pulled himself fully into the cab of the pickup.

‘Wait!’ Ashley scrambled to her feet.  ‘Wait, wait! Were you offering me a lift?’

He paused just before turning the engine over. ‘Unless you want to stay here?’ He swept an arm at the expanse of the abandoned night-time desert and two dead bodies.

Ashley looked around her, almost tempted, but she had no idea where she was or how to get home. And the psychopath had a truck.

‘Thank you,’ she said with a nod and walked over to the vehicle.

‘Manners!’ said Trevor, following her path with a pointed finger. ‘I like it! Don’t forget them around me and we’ll get on just fine.’

If Ashley doubted this, she didn’t say as she buckled herself into the worn leather passenger seat.

‘So, where you staying?’ Trevor asked as they pulled away, leaving the dead altruists and their abandoned car behind them on the side of the road. Still, no one else had even slowed down to look.

‘Los Santos, but you can just drop me anywhere with a good bus service.’

‘Well, lucky for you I recently relocated to LS myself. You’re pretty far out here though.’

‘So are you,’ Ashley said suspiciously.

‘I was visiting old friends,’ Trevor replied, grinning toothily.

Ashley’s eyes went to the shot gun which was nestled in the foot well near his leg, and the bloodstains on his t-shirt which didn’t seem to have come entirely from the altruists. So busy was she, taking in these details, that she missed the way the strange man kept looking at her. His eyes glancing at her face quickly, before darting back to the road. Again and again. And each time they did, a small crease between his brows deepened.

‘How did you end up out here?’ he asked, his tone more casual than the look in his eyes. ‘And trust me, this is not just polite curiosity. I wanna know all the grisly details.’ He barked a laugh, but Ashley didn’t flinch.

‘Those creepy old guys jumped me on my way home from work,’ she said breezily, as if it were an everyday occurrence. ‘Stuffed me in their OAP mobile and drove me out here. I managed to jump out when they slowed for a coyote on the road, got a few feet before they caught me again, then you showed up.’

‘The hero of the day!’

‘Aye… I suppose you could say that.’ She gave him a hard look. If he had noticed her noticing him he wasn’t saying anything.

‘So where exactly am I dropping you?’

‘Anywhere in the city. I can find my own way from there.’

‘Are you sure? After what happened, you wanna walk home?’

‘It’ll be fine.’

He switched topics suddenly, and without any obvious cause. His eyes darted another quick glance at her face. ‘Where’s that accent from by the way?’

‘Scotland.’

‘Oh, you’re Scottish?’ He sounded happy, as if discovering she were in fact an old friend. ‘My papi’s papi’s papi was Scottish.’

‘Mm-hmm.’

‘Where in Scotland?’

‘The middle.’

‘You been in the states long?’

‘Depends what you consider long.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘What’s with all the questions?’ Ashley asked snappishly before she could stop herself. She immediately regretted it as a sly smile painted itself onto Trevor’s features. She got the feeling she had given him exactly what he wanted.

‘Bit defensive there, aren’t we?’ he asked slowly. ‘Not got something to hide, I hope.’

‘No.’

‘It wasn’t a question.’

There was a moment of quiet and Ashley glanced out her window. They were speeding down the highway now, darkness raced by outside with the occasional streetlight to break the monotony. She considered taking her chances and jumping out anyway, but no matter how she looked at it, that wouldn’t end well.

‘It’s a long drive home,’ Trevor said. ‘Might as well pass the time with some idle chit-chat, huh? What’s there to be scared of?’

For a crazy moment Ashley considered telling him the truth, but only for a moment. She turned back to look at him with hardened eyes and his grin widened.

‘You’re suspiciously cagey,’ he said.

‘And you’re just suspicious.’

‘Huh?’

‘Is it really so strange that I don’t want a complete stranger - who I just witnessed kill two people - to know my name and fucking home address?’

‘Well, when you put it like that… But c’mon, this is your Uncle T you’re talking to. I saved you from those crazy motherfuckers.’ He leaned in close, not looking at the road at all. She caught a whiff of him and nearly gagged. He was doing the casual act justice, but now Ashley had noticed the need hidden deep in his dark eyes. A spark of panic flared in between the skip of her heartbeat.

There was something this man wanted from her. Something that he didn’t think she would give willingly. Something that was going to niggle at him, and keep him hounding her, until he got it.

‘What do you want?’ Ashley asked, not wavering, despite the crazy look in his eyes, or the threatening half-smile playing around his lips.

‘Maybe I’m just interested in getting to know you,’ he said, pulling back into his own seat and turning back to the road.

She laughed bitterly. ‘I’m not buying it.’

The mask slipped slightly and Trevor scowled before recovering himself. He looked over at her again, but she wasn’t saying any more until he did. ‘I know your face,’ he finally said, lips snarling around the words. ‘Mmm’alright? And something in here,’ he tapped the side of his forehead viciously, all pretence of amiability vanished, ‘says it has something to do with money.’

‘You’re mistaken.’

‘No!’ he barked suddenly, expecting her to jump, but she didn’t even blink. His scowl deepened. ‘I’m never wrong about money.’ He said it with such conviction that Ashley couldn’t doubt the truth of it.  ‘So, tell me, what are you involved with?’ he asked. ‘Is it gangs? Are you related to some big-shot? Sister, daughter, girlfriend, wife? Some combination of the above?’

‘You’re crazy.’

‘Bona fide certified!’ he whooped with a laugh. ‘Now tell me. Are you some kinda heiress? Is your daddy very wealthy?’

She didn’t say anything.

‘Someone showed me your photo! Someone was looking for you and talking about a reward. Grrrrr- I just need to remember who!’ He slammed his head into the steering wheel, hard enough to stun himself for a moment. The engine roared as the truck swerved on the road.

Ashley watched him carefully, but implacably. Her hands tightened their grip on her seat slightly. Trevor noticed and once more began to grin.

‘Okay, we do this the hard way then.’

He slammed his foot onto the brake, and Ashley was thrown forward, her seatbelt cutting into her chest, winding her. In the moment it took her to recover, Trevor leaned over and opened the glove box. He pulled out a bundle of zip ties just as Ashley, still gasping for breath, lunged for the door handle. His arm snaked out and a rough, calloused and dirty hand gripped her wrist tight enough to leave marks.

She pulled against him, but it was like pulling herself out of dried cement. With barely any effort he tugged on her arm, and she was pulled halfway across the cab, the gear stick pressed painfully into her still tender ribs. Trevor reached for her other arm, but she jerked it out of his way – holding it above and behind her as though she were keeping something out of reach from a grasping child. He tugged again, pulling her closer still, until her face was nearly pressed into his chest and the stench of him filled her nostrils.

He gripped her free arm at the shoulder and forced it around so hard she thought it might be dislocated. But she refused to cry out in front of him. He grunted as her elbow caught him across the face, but he had both her arms pinned in front of her now, and he wasn’t letting go. Breathing heavily, Ashley dug her feet into her side of the foot well and tried to push herself back, away from him.

‘Stop,’ she gasped in a last, desperate attempt, as he forced her hands together and slipped one of the zip ties around her wrists. She heard the teeth grate against the lock as it was tightened, and she was caught.

Trevor let out a breath as they both sat in their seats, recovering. Ashley’s chest felt tight as it heaved in deep breaths, but her face displayed no fear. Trevor looked at her and snorted, his hand still firmly gripping one of her now bound arms. There was a thin trickle of blood slowly dripping from one of his nostrils.

‘Ready to talk yet, princess?’ he asked.

She shook her head, and spat, ‘Fuck you!’

‘Well, we’re in it for the long-haul now anyway,’ he said with a shrug and leaned across to her side of the truck. She tried to ignore the smell that rolled off of him and the unidentified stains on his clothes as he used another cable tie to secure her hands to the grab handle above her head.

‘This is technically kidnapping,’ he grinned as he settled back into his own seat. ‘I can’t let you go now, any which way.’

‘Technically?’ she repeated.

‘Oh, so you can talk? Well, I suggest you do a lot more of it, because I’m gonna find out who you are one way or another…’ With a loud sniff, he wiped at his nose with the back of his hand and looked at the smear of crimson in surprise. He grinned again. ‘Well look at that,’ he said as he shifted the truck into gear. ‘You got me.’ He pulled out onto the highway again.

‘Please don’t do this.’ Her voice was steady, without inflection as she pled.

‘What? Is your mommy going to be worried?’

‘No.’

‘Do you want her to be?’

She looked at him for a moment in abject horror. ‘My name is Ashley Harding,’ she said smartly. ‘I live in LS. Before that I was in a foster home in Scotland. I have no family, I have no gang ties, and I definitely don’t have any money. Whoever you think I am, I’m not.’

‘You’re lying,’ Trevor growled.

‘I’m not!’

‘Well, you better be, for your sake! Because the moment I find you’re no longer useful to me - or maybe even before that depending on my mood - I’m gonna juice you up and flush you down the shower drain!’

There was a pause and then a calm, ‘So be it.’

Trevor glanced at her briefly and growled wordlessly before saying, ‘LS freaks always do love their juicers.’