The Wrong One

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

"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."

“Yeah, yeah. If I were more like Rick, maybe I’d have a girlfriend too.”

"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 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.

She found me.

How the hell did she find me?

Sam said she didn’t know my real name. She wasn’t supposed to know where I lived.

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.”

“No, they left a note. They thought he was me.”

“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? You were supposed to be watching her.”

“She found me, Sam. She found Rick. She cut off his fucking hands.”

A car turned onto the street.

“Someone’s pulling up.”

It slowed in front of the house.

“Is that you?”

The car stopped.

“Never mind. I see you.”

Someone was sitting beside him.

“Who's that next to you?”

No.

She turned toward the house.

“What the… Why is she…”

Sam looked straight at me through the windshield.

“Sam, you fucking traitor!”

She stepped out of the car.

Her hand.

A gun.

Fuck!