Chapter 17
Megan - Day 28
It’d beena long ass day. After Aaron and I calmed ourselves enough to function, we started the process of cleaning his kitchen.
I glanced over at Aaron. “I’ve been around enough dead bodies not to be squeamish around them, but I’ve never had to get rid of one. You’re going to have to instruct me on the best way to go about this.”
Did he just smile?
“First, I’ll need you to help me clear these bodies out of here.”
That sounded easy enough. “Okay,” I said as I took in the display of bodies in front of me.
Chuck was thrown back against the wall and door that separated the kitchen from the living room. His damaged head and hunched shoulders were slung against the wall, and his lower body was twisted away from his top half. It appeared he was two different parts, trying to make up one body.
He’d lost his bladder and bowels, so a puddle of brown liquid sat near the twisted lower half of his body. The scent seeped into my nose and made me want to gag, but I swallowed the gut-turning impulse and ignored the stench as best I could.
Although I’d shot Chuck in the head, I didn’t see much brain matter against the wall. But there was a significant amount of blood spatter that needed to be cleaned. A large pool of blood also sat under his slumped body and threatened to meet the brown pool of piss.
Dutch was on his stomach on the floor where Aaron had dropped him. A large chunk of the back of his head was blown off, and an unnatural scent crept up my nose and gripped my throat. It must have been what the inside of his head smelled like. It was like shit, rotted food, and vomit that had sat in the sun all day. Not at all something you wanted to be near for long periods of time.
I burped when my food started inching up my throat. Most of Dutch’s brain matter had hit the floor and some had landed on a portion of the counter in front of him. His fists were clenched tight like he’d lived for a few moments after his fatal shot and tried to cling to his last few seconds of life. One of his legs was bent in an L-shape as if he might attempt to get up if he was able to. His head was twisted far enough up that I could easily see his open, lifeless eyes.
Clint had the most dramatic display in my opinion. He was the type of dead body you’d see outlined in chalk and used to scare teens away from the dangers of guns and drugs.
He was laid flat out on his back. His arms and legs were splayed away from his body. Pieces of his skull and hunks of brain matter were splattered against the refrigerator, painting its snow-white surface with dark red splatters and spots.
Clint’s eyes and mouth were wide open like he’d seen the bullet traveling towards his head and had frozen in wide-eyed, open-mouthed shock. The bullet must have killed him on impact because his body had fallen straight back into the path near the back door.
I took each man by the feet as Aaron and I carried them to his backyard. The back porch-light was bright enough to give us all the light we needed. The moon hovered low in the sky like a living creature, peeking from behind the clouds at the twisted shit Aaron and I were doing.
Even the insect calls sounded ominous. Instead of night songs, it was night wails, like they were bearing witness to something they knew they weren’t supposed to see.
We sat the bodies in a pile next to one of those thick metal tubs that animals drank water out of. Aaron poured in one of the jugs of acid. Smoke billowed and hissed out of the big metal tub as the dangerous liquid created a bubbling sound. Aaron gripped my wrist and pulled me away from the fumes.
“We should be wearing a mask around this shit. Try not to breathe any of it in. I’ll grab us something to cover our faces with.”
Once Aaron was out of sight, I stood in his backyard with the three bodies that were about to be soaked in acid. I glared from the metal tub of acid to the bodies stacked beside it. I glanced back and forth, waiting for sympathy, sorrow, or even regret to show up, but it didn’t. Had my heart gone completely black? Had I lost touch with reality? Was I so broken that I could no longer produce the emotions of a normal person?
Aaron returned. He stood behind me and tied a black handkerchief over my mouth and nose. Once he’d secured his, we resembled two outlaws. Was an outlaw what I’d become?
Once I helped Aaron roll the bodies into the acid, I stood, watching him watch the bodies for a moment. Eventually, I learned that he wasn’t just watching, he was waiting to turn the bodies so that the acid would eat at every part of them. He turned and poked at the bodies with a large wooden boat paddle.
Aaron remained outside to ensure the bodies were cooked evenly. I re-entered the house to finish the process of cleaning the kitchen.
By the time Aaron walked into the kitchen, I had cleaned it so well you’d never have known that three bodies had been splayed all over the walls and floor. Aaron raised an approving eyebrow as he glanced around.
Clumsily maneuvering a pair of vice grips, I attempted to yank a bullet free that had gotten lodged in the wall. Once it was freed, I noticed blood on it, which meant that it had traveled through Chuck’s body. I recalled pulling the trigger multiples times, but I didn’t know how many times I’d shot Chuck until after I observed his body. When Aaron had caught me lingering over his body earlier, that was part of what I was attempting to figure out.
“I’m about to take them out back,” Aaron said as he pointed a thumb over his shoulder.
There were those words again. Out back. Frankly, I thought they were already out back. This time, I wanted to see what out back looked like. I wanted to see exactly what out back meant to this MC.
“Can I go with you?” I asked, trying not to sound too curious.
Aaron shrugged nonchalantly. “Okay.”
I dropped the vice grips and bullet onto the paper plate I’d been using to collect bullets and shell casings on. Aaron glanced at the plate and back at me, but he didn’t comment. He seemed amazed at how well I was handling what normal people might have considered a nightmare.