Deadbeat by Adam Hamdy Summary, Characters and Themes
Deadbeat by Adam Hamdy is a dark psychological thriller that explores the gritty life of a fallen veteran, Peyton Collard, as he navigates moral ambiguity, fatherhood, and personal redemption. Set against a backdrop of manipulation and covert violence, the story unravels Peyton’s descent from a broken man into an unwilling pawn in a sinister game.
Fueled by guilt, trauma, and love for his daughter, Peyton’s journey is as much about confronting his past as it is about resisting the forces that want to shape his future. Adam Hamdy crafts a raw, haunting character study layered with conspiracy, emotional weight, and a search for meaning amid chaos.
Summary
Peyton Collard, once a respected soldier, begins his story with a confession: he has killed and lost any claim to innocence. Now living in near destitution and estranged from his daughter Skye, Peyton is caught in a cycle of alcohol abuse, financial ruin, and self-loathing.
A DUI arrest appears to seal his fate until an unknown benefactor bails him out. What follows is a chilling offer—a contract killing for $100,000, targeting nightclub owner Walter Glaze.
Initially appalled, Peyton slowly justifies the murder. The promise of financial security for his daughter, who might have diabetes, becomes his rationalization.
After a humiliating encounter with Walter, Peyton accepts the hit. He secures a weapon, says emotional goodbyes to his daughter and ex-wife Toni, and prepares for the killing.
Under the influence of drugs and emotional instability, Peyton executes Walter. But the psychological cost is profound.
Guilt consumes him, manifesting as hallucinations of his victim. Soon after, Peyton is offered a second contract: kill Farah Younis, a lawyer allegedly connected to criminal networks.
Faced with threats from low-level gangster Frankie Balls and increasing financial pressure, he accepts. He murders Farah in a garage, but this time the weight of remorse is greater.
As the hallucinations of Walter and now Farah intensify, Peyton begins to realize that the justification for these hits may have been fabricated. This suspicion is confirmed when he’s offered a third contract: Alice Polmar, a seemingly harmless woman.
Instead of carrying out the murder, Peyton investigates her. He discovers that none of his targets appear to be actual criminals.
The realization dawns that he is being manipulated—not employed by vigilantes but by someone using him for an entirely different purpose. Surveillance photos and altered online profiles reveal he has been under watch and control from the start.
As Peyton digs deeper, his perception of reality begins to fracture. He is tormented by the ghosts of his victims, struggles with his sense of self, and spirals through emotional isolation.
His ex-wife remains wary, keeping him away from Skye. Peyton’s attempts to do the right thing are thwarted at every turn.
He eventually confronts Alice but spares her. He uses the opportunity to gather more intelligence.
He uncovers clues that point to a powerful and tech-savvy manipulator orchestrating the entire sequence of murders as part of a cruel experiment. Peyton’s refusal to kill Alice disrupts the plan.
The payoff is denied, but the coercion continues. Through underground contacts and personal investigation, he identifies Joseph Persico—a wealthy, influential figure connected to Peyton’s past—as the man behind the operation.
Persico’s motive appears rooted in a twisted sense of justice. Peyton once caused a drunk-driving accident that ruined Persico’s life.
The killing spree was designed as a psychological gauntlet, perhaps to torment or test Peyton. In a final, desperate confrontation, Peyton infiltrates Persico’s estate, kills him during a chaotic altercation, and rescues a captive woman.
He is arrested but later released after exposing Persico’s crimes. With the help of Felicity, a woman he grows close to, Peyton launders the hidden money he had stashed and begins building a modest life in Topanga.
He starts reconnecting with Skye and slowly earns back Toni’s trust. Though he remains haunted by memories and regret, Peyton is no longer a weapon for others.
He ends the story not redeemed in the traditional sense, but changed. He is no longer a puppet, but a man trying to reclaim his humanity on his own terms.
Characters
Peyton Collard
Peyton Collard is the tortured protagonist of Deadbeat, a man whose life has unraveled from honored military veteran to alcoholic, jobless ex-convict, and ultimately, a pawn in a deadly conspiracy. At the outset, Peyton is consumed by guilt—haunted by his failings as a father to Skye, his past addiction, and a fatal drunk-driving accident.
His moral decline is gradual but inevitable, as desperation forces him to accept a contract to kill a supposed criminal. Initially, Peyton justifies the act as a sacrifice to secure Skye’s future, but each subsequent murder chips away at his psyche.
What makes Peyton compelling is the novel’s intimate portrayal of his interior struggle. He is not a cold-blooded killer, but a man crushed by circumstances and manipulated into violence.
Hallucinations of his victims serve as metaphors for his crumbling mental health and conscience. As the narrative unfolds, Peyton evolves from a passive figure acted upon by invisible forces to someone actively pursuing truth and justice.
By the final chapters, he has shed his role as a killer and chosen a path of redemption. His decision not to kill Alice Polmar and to bring down Joseph Persico symbolizes a return to moral agency.
Even though he ends with no accolades and limited reunification with his family, his transformation into a man of principle and action is complete. He offers a glimpse of hard-won peace.
Skye Collard
Skye is the emotional anchor of the novel and Peyton’s primary motivation throughout the narrative. Though young and mostly a background figure, she represents innocence, hope, and the possibility of redemption.
Peyton’s every decision, from taking on the hit to rejecting future assignments, is shaped by his desire to secure a better life for her. The false alarm about her diabetes adds a layer of tragic irony—it strips Peyton of his moral rationale for killing Walter and sets him spiraling further into remorse.
Skye is also emblematic of a future Peyton fears he is destroying by staying in her life. As the story progresses, Skye’s continued emotional distance (and Toni’s cautious gatekeeping) highlights Peyton’s internal conflict.
He wants to be a good father but questions whether he’s irredeemable. In the end, her reappearance and weekend visits symbolize cautious reconciliation and tentative forgiveness.
This suggests that while Peyton cannot undo his past, he might still be worthy of love and trust.
Toni
Toni is a powerful emotional counterweight to Peyton. Her character reflects both resilience and guarded compassion.
As Peyton’s ex-wife and Skye’s mother, she is understandably wary of letting him back into their lives, having witnessed his self-destruction firsthand. Her protectiveness toward Skye underscores her moral clarity—she wants nothing to do with “dirty money” and often acts as Peyton’s moral compass, even if indirectly.
Toni serves as a judge-like figure in the narrative; her judgment of Peyton is swift but not cruel, rooted in her duty as a mother. Even when Peyton tries to atone, her skepticism forces him to confront whether redemption is possible without external validation.
Over time, her stance softens slightly. Her eventual willingness to allow Skye some contact with Peyton shows that she, too, is open to the idea that people can change—but only when they’ve earned it.
Walter Glaze
Walter is the first target in Peyton’s journey and represents more than just a criminal to be eliminated. Initially portrayed as a drug dealer and nightclub owner, Walter comes across as charismatic, dangerous, and manipulative.
However, as Peyton descends further into the conspiracy, Walter’s character becomes more complex, especially through post-mortem hallucinations. His ghostly presence evolves from an accusatory figure into a voice of Peyton’s conscience.
Walter’s role shifts from antagonist to spectral symbol of Peyton’s own degradation and internal conflict. By the time Peyton realizes that Walter may have been more scapegoat than villain, his guilt manifests as paranoia.
This suggests that Walter’s significance lies not in his actions, but in what he triggers within Peyton—the collapse of any illusions about moral justification.
Farah Younis
Farah Younis is the second victim of Peyton’s forced assignments and presents a sharp moral and psychological turning point. As a respected attorney allegedly laundering money for international criminals, Farah is portrayed through the lens of propaganda until Peyton investigates her personally.
Upon killing her, his hallucinations begin to include her ghost, representing a more intense level of regret and realization. Unlike Walter, Farah is shown to be completely innocent, a revelation that crushes whatever rationalizations Peyton clung to after the first murder.
Her death marks the end of Peyton’s moral ambiguity. He can no longer pretend he’s serving justice or protecting Skye.
Farah’s presence lingers, not just in hallucinations, but in Peyton’s growing obsession with uncovering the truth. She becomes a pivotal character in his moral awakening.
Alice Polmar
Alice Polmar serves as the ultimate test of Peyton’s transformation. Assigned as his third victim and described as a threat to national security, Alice turns out to be an elderly, gentle woman who runs a diner with her family.
Her warmth and humanity starkly contrast the clinical description provided by Peyton’s handlers. This pushes him to fully abandon the role of hitman.
Alice becomes a mirror to Peyton’s better self, evoking the compassion and protective instincts he once reserved only for Skye. By refusing to kill her and instead trying to understand her life, Peyton breaks the psychological hold his patron had over him.
Alice’s character is both a narrative device and a symbol of redemption. She is proof that Peyton has evolved beyond manipulation.
Joseph Persico
Joseph Persico is the elusive mastermind behind the web of killings and represents systemic evil, manipulation, and the commodification of human life. He is revealed to be a billionaire with connections to experimental surveillance and social engineering projects, possibly driven by vengeance over a past tragedy linked to Peyton.
Persico’s character exists mostly in the background until the final chapters, where his motives and control mechanisms are revealed. Unlike traditional villains, Persico doesn’t operate through direct confrontation but uses anonymous technology, misinformation, and coercion to orchestrate events from a distance.
His death at Peyton’s hands is symbolic not only of vengeance but of breaking the machine. It dismantles the narrative of faceless control that has governed Peyton’s life.
He’s less a man than a representation of unchecked power and psychological warfare.
Felicity
Felicity enters the story later and acts as a beacon of emotional healing and practical support. She helps Peyton launder the recovered money and build a new, peaceful life in Topanga.
Unlike Toni, Felicity does not judge Peyton solely by his past but offers him a chance at renewal. Her presence signals the possibility of forming new, healthier relationships not based on guilt or obligation.
In the meta-ending of the novel, it’s revealed that Felicity helped Peyton write the book. This lends a final layer of intimacy and support to their bond.
She represents the antidote to isolation—an anchor for Peyton’s tentative step into a life not defined by violence or shame.
Themes
The Corruption of Morality Through Desperation
A core theme in Deadbeat is the way desperation dismantles personal morality. Peyton Collard begins as a man already teetering at the edge of societal collapse—estranged from his daughter, haunted by his past, and financially destitute.
Initially, he resists the idea of murder, but his deteriorating life circumstances, compounded by guilt and shame, eventually lead him to rationalize the act as a necessary evil. The proposition to kill for money is not merely a criminal temptation—it’s presented as the only viable option to protect his daughter’s health and future.
His initial resistance erodes slowly, replaced by a grim resignation. As the narrative progresses and he commits more murders, Peyton begins to justify each action through a distorted ethical lens.
He convinces himself that his targets are bad people—drug dealers, money launderers, corrupt insiders—and in killing them, he is somehow cleansing the world while saving himself. But this reasoning unravels as he uncovers the truth: the people he murdered were not villains, and the real evil lies in the manipulation he has fallen victim to.
This revelation leaves him morally bankrupt, not because he chose evil, but because he allowed desperation to dictate his values. The novel ultimately shows how poverty and hopelessness can create fertile ground for ethical collapse, where once-clear lines between right and wrong are blurred by survival instincts and emotional fatigue.
The Illusion of Redemption
Peyton’s journey is defined by a longing for redemption, but the narrative consistently challenges the validity of that desire. From the opening scenes, Peyton frames his confession as an effort to be understood by his daughter, hinting at the idea that telling the truth might redeem him in her eyes.
This is mirrored in his repeated justifications that each violent act is in service of a higher goal—giving Skye a better life. Yet the novel refuses to grant him easy absolution.
Every attempt at redemption is marred by deeper moral compromise, such as accepting dirty money or lying to loved ones to shield them from harsh truths. Even when he believes he is acting for good, the motivations are entangled with self-interest, emotional instability, and a fractured sense of justice.
After learning that his victims were not criminals, Peyton confronts the hollowness of his supposed redemptive arc. His actions did not cleanse his past but compounded his guilt.
His final acts—refusing to kill again, confronting the mastermind behind the crimes, and choosing a life of quiet service—offer a truer but more ambiguous form of redemption. There is no fanfare, no forgiveness granted by others, and no dramatic moment of salvation.
Instead, the novel posits that redemption is not a reward but a process of learning to live with guilt, make better choices, and accept the solitude that comes with genuine moral reckoning.
Fatherhood and Failed Masculinity
Fatherhood is at the emotional heart of Deadbeat, serving both as Peyton’s motivation and his greatest source of pain. His estranged relationship with his daughter Skye is the one aspect of his life he clings to with any sense of purpose.
Peyton’s paternal instincts are sincere but tragically misapplied—he constantly tries to protect and provide for Skye while making choices that inevitably push her further away. This contradiction exposes a larger crisis of masculinity in the character.
Peyton is a man who once embodied traditional masculine ideals—military strength, stoicism, self-sacrifice—but is now broken, addicted, and powerless. He views providing financially as the only remaining form of fatherly worth, which explains his eventual descent into criminality.
The novel critiques this narrow definition of masculinity, showing how it isolates men like Peyton from emotional expression and healthier paths to redemption. As the story unfolds, his understanding of what it means to be a father evolves.
He moves from being a provider at any cost to a man willing to give up everything—even contact with his daughter—if it means protecting her from the shadows of his past. The final chapters depict a new version of fatherhood: less visible, less heroic, but rooted in stability, self-restraint, and moral responsibility.
By rejecting further violence and accepting emotional solitude, Peyton finally begins to reclaim his role as a father not through wealth or sacrifice, but through character.
Psychological Disintegration and Guilt
Peyton’s mental state is a central focus of the narrative, depicted through vivid hallucinations, erratic behavior, and his constant internal dialogue. Guilt functions as both a narrative device and a thematic undercurrent, revealing the psychological toll of his actions.
From the moment he commits his first murder, Peyton begins to see the ghosts of his victims. These apparitions are not mere spectral flourishes—they embody his unraveling conscience.
As he accumulates more deaths, these hallucinations grow in frequency and intensity, blurring the line between reality and psychosis. The novel portrays guilt not as a singular emotion but as an evolving psychological force.
Initially, it manifests in shame and fear of exposure, but over time it becomes internalized and symbolic. He begins to view himself as irredeemable, and his deteriorating mind mirrors this belief.
There is a slow erosion of identity; Peyton becomes less the man he was and more a reflection of what he has done. His hallucinations eventually take on the qualities of guides or tormentors, pressuring him to face the truth and reject the illusion that he can compartmentalize his violence.
Even in moments of apparent stability, such as building a new life with Felicity, the presence of ghosts signals that guilt remains part of his psyche. The story argues that guilt does not fade with time or good deeds—it must be carried, and the true challenge is to live in its shadow without letting it consume you.
Power, Manipulation, and Surveillance
The theme of manipulation permeates every layer of Deadbeat, culminating in a critique of unseen power structures. Peyton begins the story thinking he is making autonomous choices, but it is gradually revealed that his life has been orchestrated by an anonymous figure with surveillance capabilities and strategic psychological insights.
This power dynamic reflects broader fears of technological and institutional manipulation—how data, images, and artificial narratives can be used to justify immoral actions. Peyton is not simply offered jobs; he is studied, coerced, and pushed through fabricated stories and doctored websites to believe that his victims deserve death.
The use of surveillance photos, web-based instructions, and disappearing digital trails illustrates a dystopian world where truth is entirely manipulable. The patron’s ability to construct and dismantle public narratives about Peyton’s targets underscores the terrifying ease with which information can be weaponized.
What makes the manipulation even more insidious is that it’s personal—rooted in Peyton’s trauma, his military background, and his paternal guilt. The novel shows how those in power don’t need to issue orders directly; they only need to create the conditions in which desperate individuals make the “right” wrong choices.
In the end, Peyton’s fight is not just against a person but against an entire system of exploitation that thrives on surveillance and psychological profiling. His resistance, however modest, becomes an act of reclaiming agency in a world designed to rob him of it.