UK streets are on shutdown, with a curfew of 7:00 p.m. to get behind locked doors. This serial killer doesn’t prejudice: straight, gay, bi, young… old—he’s a profiler’s nightmare, and he’s got the UK populace back to the days of hurrying through the streets, nervous whispers in their wake. The one constant in his MO: there’s no safety in numbers anymore. He… likes dark play with couples.
Drift mostly passes through life unnoticed, shunned by society, so curfews have no meaning in his displaced world. He sold his watch years ago anyway. But when a ride down a lonely road forces him into the path of ex-lover, Carter, time never becomes more paramount in Drift’s life. He owes Carter an explanation for walking out on him, only problem being—there’s a killer on the loose who also has a fascination for collecting tongues. Especially tongues that… tell tales. And coming from where he has, Drift’s been brought up not to expose secrets.
When Carter finds a tongue nailed to his door, Drift knows there really is no safety in numbers, nor from the past and its secrets. Couples are the killer’s fascination, and him and Carter, they are now the outstanding collectable:
It seems the stone that Drift set in play all those years ago to ensure Carter built those barricades between them is about to ricochet, taking them both down….