She swept her colorful hair away from her face and turned towards Mr. Wendigo. “So, do we just slice his ass open and start digging?”
“I don’t particularly want to dig through someone’s body.”
“Then how else do you suppose we find where this key has been hidden?”
“Let me check something,” Dion said suddenly.
He helped Morrigan down from the examination table and walked over to where our cadaver was, keeping her by his side. Her pace was off—sluggish—like she’d been drugged. Then again, she probably had. At the very least she’d been under anesthesia with three syringes of something injected into her blood stream. Who knows what the faux doctor was planning to do next?
She glanced at us, offering a strained smile. Now that I could see her clearly, I realized she and Dion were practically the same height. Their build was similar as well, and that wasn’t the only thing.
She was a naturally pretty girl, but they could’ve been brother and sister with how closely they resembled one another.
Dion released her hand and crouched beside the body. We all watched as he unbuttoned the man’s shirt, careful not to get blood on his shoes or hands. He removed his glasses to clean the lens, scooting a bit closer once they were back on.
“There’s an incision scar already, just follow along that. My guess is that this keys by the ribs.”
Cut along the dotted line is what he was saying in so many words. It was a simple solution I felt like a dumbass for not considering it myself.
We joined Dion beside Mr. Wendigo. Looking at the man’s face up close had my mouth turning down on its own violation. Where I’d torn the real doctor’s flesh away from his was splotchy and bleeding.
His lips were slightly parted, revealing a bottom row of yellowing teeth and black gums. I almost felt bad for the guy. There was insanity, and then there were people like him.
“You want to do the honors?”
Dion rose to his feet and retreated at the speed of light. “That’s not my area of expertise.”
With a sigh, I stepped over Mr. Wendigo’s legs and pulled the scalpel from the side of his neck, causing an arterial spray of blood to shoot across the tiled floor. I paid it little attention, focusing on his pale chest.
I could see the incision Dion was referring to clear as day. I stepped to the side and knelt beside the body, careful not to kneel directly in the blood that had pooled and ran.
“I’m going to need your help,” I informed Mel.
“What should I do?”
“Go to his other side.”
She did as I asked without any rebuttal, mirroring my stance. Cognizant of how sharp the end of the scalpel was, I gripped the metal handle tightly and lowered it down to where the incision scar was.
I swallowed and took a small breath. The most mind-boggling thing about this to me was that someone cut Mr. Wendigo open and put a damn key inside his body just so that someone else could remove it.
“You studied this in school, didn’t you?”
I paused and glanced across at her. “You know I barely passed anatomy and physiology, right? By barely, I mean if my mom didn’t threaten my life with the chancla I would’ve failed.”
She laughed dryly. “I didn’t even make it to that class, so you’re already doing better than I would, babe.”
“Thanks for the encouragement,” I muttered, staring down at the lifeless chest.
I knew where to cut, but not how deeply I needed the blade to go. Readjusting my grip one last time, I began. I made the first incision, and I swear to you this blasé moment would stick with me for the rest of my fucking life. It wasn’t because I was slicing open another human being, but because I had this distinct feeling that I’d done this before.
I didn’t get it.
I had no idea where it was coming from. I tried to shake it off and honed my focus on what I was doing right then. Scarlet blood bubbled up and began to pool onto the floor, a stark contrast against its host’s nearly chalk-white skin.
It was a little surprising, how easily the skin separated. I used my other hand to slightly brace myself, finding Mr. Wendigo felt leathery to the touch, his body already going cold.
As flesh separated from tissue, I began to see deposits of fat. At the same time, a putrid odor started to rise into the air. A stench so potent my eyes watered.
“Holy fuck,” Mel sniffled, leaning as far back as she could while still being close enough to help.
“Hold that left flap,” I said to her, turning my head to the side and blinking a few times.
Dion coughed and retreated a little further from us, taking Morrigan with him, trying and failing to suppress a dry heave. I refocused my attention, starting again, this time twice as determined.