“What?” April asked, shrugging, “What are you staring at?”
“I-I don’t actually know,” Brett replied, trying to process the corpse April was dragging through the playground at two in the afternoon. His mouth formed several words, but ultimately snapped shut as he motioned toward the body.
“What? This? This isn’t a problem. No one goes out anymore,” she replied, motioning for the empty park. “Everyone is too scared of getting the virus, so no one’s going to see anything.”
“Even if they did, I don’t think there’d be a problem here,” she said, giving the corpse another yank.
“Actually, I think you’d find that most people have a pretty massive problem with that,” Brett said, walking around toward the head. “Who was it anyway?”
“Does it really matter now?” April asked, nodding toward the other end of the body. “Be a friend, would you?”
Brett rolled his eyes, sighed heavily, and reached down to grab the arms. “I think it always matters. I know he doesn’t care now, but this used to be someone.”
“Harley Cole,” April said, gritting her teeth as they lifted it over the lip that surrounded the playground.
“Bad guy? Good guy?” Brett asked.
“Just a guy,” April said, shrugging. “Didn’t care one way or the other about the job. It’s done now, and that’s all that matters.”
“It’s not really done yet,” Brett said as the sound of a car driving nearby grew louder. Brett shook his head as he dropped the arms, and April dropped the legs. “Here we go.”
A silver sedan rounded the corner, driving well under the speed limit. April and Brett watched the car creep up and come to a stop before the tinted driver’s side window opened.
“Hey, what are you two-” the man managed as April threw a knife.
Brett pinched the bridge of his nose as April moved to the car in a sprint and finished the job in less than five seconds.
“I can’t believe you,” Brett said, shaking his head. “That’s two! You could have just done this one properly, but you decided to come through the fucking park with it. Now there’s another to deal with. Real fucking professional, April.”
“What, Brett? It’s not like I asked you to come down here and find me, right? You showed up because you were bored, and you found me handling my own shit. There’s no reason to get shitty with me over it,” April yelled.
“Yeah, keep yelling. That’ll definitely go unnoticed in the middle of an empty-fucking-park!” Brett growled.
“Listen, I know it’s not ideal,” April said, “but now there’s transportation here. I can deal with two a lot easier than one now. I’m just going to put this one in the trunk, and the other in the back seat. Then I’ll take a nice little drive up to the mountains, and drop it in a ravine or something. I’m telling you, it’ll be fine.”
Brett watched April walk back to the first body, grab its legs, and begin pulling again. She grunted and shot him the most disgruntled looks as he caught on a bench.
“You know, you could help me now,” April said. “I’ll get out of your hair faster.”
“Not until you admit it,” Brett said, crossing his arms.
“Admit what?” she said, giving the body another pull. It didn’t move an inch.
“Admit that you could have done this one better. Admit that I was right and that you fucked up,” Brett said.
“No,” April said, her lips becoming a thin line.
“No? So you’re just going to stay here, struggling with a corpse until another car comes along to see what’s happening? Maybe next time it’ll be a cop, and you can deal with that fallout,” Brett said, turning away from her, “Nice seeing you, April.”
“Wait,” she said, dropping the legs. Brett turned back to face her, a smile on his face, “Don’t smile at me for this.” Brett’s smile vanished. “You. May have had a point. I know that I should know better than to bring bodies through-” she paused.
“Public spaces,” Brett added.
“Public spaces,” April continued, using her right hand for emphasis.
“And?” Brett asked.
“Do you want me to say this or not?” April snapped. “Shut your cakehole so I can get through this.”
Brett mimed zipping his lips and locking them.
“Do I have to say it?” April asked. “Even the thought of the words is turning my stomach. I doubt I’ll get the taste of them out of my mouth for a week.”
April looked down at the ground and mumbled.
“What was that?” Brett asked.
“I fucked up,” April repeated, barely audible. Her mouth moved without sound as though she had just eaten a rotten fruit, and she gagged.
“Alright, take it easy,” Brett said, walking over. “I’ll help you with these two, but next time, just plan properly and don’t make stupid mistakes like bringing bodies into public view, okay?”
“Fine,” April said, grabbing the legs again, “you know you don’t have to be an asshole all the time, right?”
“I’m just trying to help,” Brett said, lifting his side of the former Harley Cole with a grunt, “Is this guy made of lead or something? He seems a bit heavy, right?”
“He does feel a bit on the heavier side for his size, but you know how it is. Could be muscle density and all that. I did catch him in the shower of his gym,” April said as they began walking toward the car.
“I thought they had closed all the gyms in the city under the executive order?” Brett said, “Hold on a second.” Brett set his end down, walked over to the car, and pressed the trunk release inside the door before returning.
“I thought so too, but somehow he managed to get in. I think he may have owned it or something,” April said as they stepped off the curb and lifted the body over the tailgate.
“There we go,” Brett said, tucking all the extremities inside. He shut the trunk and looked over at April, “You need help with the one in the seat?”
April pulled open the door and yanked on the arm. The guy was tiny and thin, even more so than April.
“Nah, I think I got this one,” April said. “Thanks, though.”
“Alright. I’m going to head out. I’m glad you’re alright,” Brett said.
“Why’d you come out here anyway?” April asked. “You didn’t even call.”
“I heard things through the appropriate channels. Wanted to make sure you weren’t in trouble and whatnot,” Brett said, “Nothing too terrible.”
“You just wanted to see me, didn’t you?” April said, pretending to grab a skirt she wasn’t wearing and twirl. “I’m such a lucky girl.”
“You’re a goober,” Brett said. “No more mistakes, okay?”
“Fine, don’t answer,” April said. “No more mistakes. Call me later, okay?”
“Alright,” Brett said, waving over his shoulder as he walked back down the path.
Brett turned the corner where his SUV waited in the nearly empty parking lot. He shook his head as he climbed in and opened the laptop mounted to the center console. He brought up the call he had responded to about a suspicious person in the park and picked up the radio to clear it with dispatch.
“What?” April asked, shrugging, “What are you staring at?”