Page 19 of Split You Open

We get to the second man who—had I not seen him climb the tree—is hiding pretty well. We stop just below the branch he’s standing on and look up. Yanking out my gun, I point it up and fire off a few rounds.

The older man cries out as he falls out of the tree. He hits the ground hard, but he’s not dead. Not yet anyway. I recognize him as the piano instructor who’d reached out to my underage profile—offering me extra special lessons. Bile climbs up my throat as I watch him try to get to his hands and knees.

“Stop fucking around, Santi. Let’s go!” Wes snaps as he pulls his phone out of his flannel jacket pocket.

I put two bullets in the instructor’s skull.

“Get him on the back of your ATV, I’m going ahead to find the next one.”

At my nod, Wes peels off into the night, searching for our third victim.

I struggle a little more than Wes did to get this body onto the back of the ATV but once he’s up there and tied up, I’m searching for the fourth victim. He’s dead thirty minutes later. I’m pretty sure he got the furthest out of the others, which is impressive given Gnarly Pine’s rough terrain the further you get from the house and the business.

Pulling up the next victim on the cameras, I find Wes standing over top of him, one foot on his back to keep the asshole from getting up.

Wes’s gun goes off, once, twice, a third time… the body jerks and twitches beneath his foot but Wes doesn’t relent. He fires his gun until the magazine is empty then goes still. At first, I think the camera feed froze given how long Wes simply stands there, staring down at the man he’s got pinned beneath his foot.

Just as I’m about to close out and head back to the cabin, Wes lifts his foot up and stomps on the corpse’s head. Over and over his booted foot makes contact with the skull. I stare, mesmerized by the unusual brutality from Wes. Out of all of us, he’s probably the most laid-back. That man is nowhere to be seen now.

Wes continues stomping until the skull caves in. When he’s done, he stumbles back—the heaving of his shoulders lets me know he’s breathing hard. He gives a single shake of his head before it drops—his chin going to his chest. Knowing that I should give Wes his privacy, I close out of the trail cam app and head back to the cabin.

I pull out the wood chipper and just as I finish filling it with gas, Wes drives out of the woods.

He parks his ATV beside mine and quickly gets to work untying his three guys.

I know it doesn’t matter since this wasn’t a game—but if it had been, Wes totally would’ve won having three kills under his belt and me with only two.

It definitely doesn’t irk me at all.

Nope.

Not. A. Game.

There’s no winner…

My teeth grind together as I lug my two bodies closer to the wood chipper. I’ve already taped the heavy duty bags onto the other end of the machine so that all the pieces of human remains that spill out are caught. Once these corpses are fertilizer, we’ll dry them out and scatter them.

I expect a lecture from Wes about my irrationality as I move around. I absolutely deserve it and I’m willing to hear him out. Except, that’s not what happens. Wes lugs his victims over quietly. His gaze seems distant and when he’s done, he simply steps back and lets me take over.

Shit, is he that mad at me that he can’t even find the words to scold me?

This is the last thing I need.

Wes can’t abandon me now—he’s all I have left!

Choking on my groan, I stomp over to the machine and flip it on. The wood chipper roars to life, the blades quickly beginning to rotate. I let it warm up for a bit before I shove the first body into it. The machine roars and chugs away, ripping flesh, bone, and cartilage to pieces. The mess is collected in the bag on the other side.

Quickly, I switch the bag out and repeat the process.

I do this five times. Wes watches, his arms crossed over his chest. It’s not until the last bag is filled and tied up and I’ve flipped off the machine that Wes speaks up.

“Put the bodies in the shed. We’ll have a bonfire tomorrow…” he mutters before turning and heading back to the cabin.

“Wait!” I call out, desperately.

Wes pauses, his back still facing me. “What is it, Santi?”

“What?” I demand. “No lecture? No yelling? It’s alright, I can take it. I know I fucked up. I just… I just got overwhelmed and I needed an outlet. I thought this would do the trick.”