The Wrong One

violence / mature themes

"I don't know where Rick is, Mom. Why don't you try calling his phone instead?"

"If he's not answering, he's probably busy."

"No, I haven't seen him. It's only been a day. I'm sure he's fine."

"There's no such thing as twin telepathy."

"Yes, I know he calls you every day."

"You're right, Mom. He's the good twin, the twin everyone likes."

"Yep, if I were more like him, I'd probably have a girlfriend."

"I have to go. Someone just pounded on the door."

"I don't know who it is."

"It's not Rick. Rick has a key."

"I really have to go."

"It's not late. It's only 7:00. It's dark because it's winter."

"Okay, I'll be careful. I'll have Rick call you as soon as he gets home."

"Goodbye, Mom."

Who pounds on a door like that?

Someone's lying out here.

Did Rick get drunk and pass out?

What's with his neck?

"What the fuck, Rick. Get your ass up."

Jesus, he's really out.

"I'll drag your ass inside, but that's it. You can fucking sleep in the foyer."

What's wrong with his arm?

Fuck! His hand is gone!

Jesus Christ! His other one!

Both fucking hands!

How the…

A note?

"We grabbed the wrong one."

Oh, fuck!

They wanted me.

Was it..?

Could she have figured out…?

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

I need to call Sam.

"Sam, she knows who I am and where I live."

"How? My brother's on the porch with no fucking hands."

"Do I need you to send someone?"

"Did you fucking hear me? They cut off his damn hands! I need you to send someone right now."

"Calm down? Are you really telling me to calm down?"

"What are you going to do, Sam?"

"What is the goddamn FBI going to do? That psycho bitch knows who I am and is collecting body parts."

"A car's pulling up. Is that..? Never mind, I see you."

"Who's that next to you?"

“No…”

"What the … Why is she…"

“Sam, you goddamn crooked…”

Her hand. A gun.

Fuck!