Hunted || Wesari

Chapter Thirteen: Tired

He nudged the unconscious woman's body with his foot.

She didn't stir, showing no signs of a reaction. If it weren't for her chest's rising and falling, Wes would've thought she was dead. She certainly looked the part; she wasn't moving, and there was some blood matted in her head around the spot where he'd hit her.

He was so emotionally exhausted, he could barely think straight at this point. He shoved his arms under Mari's body, lifting her up easily. He made his way to the cabin, carrying her along with him.

The second he walked through the door, he was met with a horrible sight; Courtney's body, lying in the kitchen. He placed Mari's body on the couch gently, before rushing over to his friend.

He grabbed her wrist, checking her pulse, a bubble of hope rising in his chest. If Mari had hit her as hard as Wes had hit Mari, then Courtney had a chance. She could still be alive!

He felt around her wrist for a long time, trying desperately to find something. But it was hopeless, and his hope fizzled out. There was no pulse; Wes should've accepted that the second he picked up Courtney's cold wrist. She was dead.

He dropped her wrist, breathing heavily. He quickly got back up, storming out the door, trying to not think about the blonde woman lying in the kitchen. He was going to get Olivia; he couldn't just leave her rotting in the rain. She deserved better than that, especially seeing as he was the one who caused this to happen to her.

It didn't take him long to find her body, sinking into the mud. He picked Olivia up, and brought her back into the cabin, lying her next to Courtney. He closed both women's eyes, before rushing upstairs, grabbing the blankets he'd dropped earlier. He wrapped the two women in them. It was too wet to bury them right now; he'd have to wait till the rain stopped.

He walked back into the living room, collapsing into one of the chairs, staring at Mari. What the hell was he going to do with her?

After everything she'd done, she didn't deserve his mercy. He should do to her what she did to his friend's; take her life. At least he'd have a proper reason to do so.

She was still holding her knife, drenched in Olivia's blood. He wrestled it out of her hands, before firmly grasping it in his own, bringing it up to Mari's neck, in the same spot where she had had it against his own a little over an hour ago.

He tried to steady his breathing, as his hand shook, trying to gain the confidence to do the deed. She deserved it. He knew she did. She was a psychopath, a monster. She'd taken Olivia and Courtney away from each other, away from him. A slit throat was too quick a death for her.

A tear rolled down his cheek, and he lowered the knife. He couldn't. No matter how hard he tried to talk himself into it, there was no way he could justify taking someone's life, especially if they couldn't defend themselves. Wes just had too much humanity in him.

It had always been one of the things his mother had hated about him. He couldn't count the number of times he'd come home with a black eye from the bullies at school, and she'd pulled him into his room, lecturing him about how he was too soft, how he'd have to defend himself. But he just never could; it was a lot easier to just take the pain than to inflict it on someone else. Of course, he never had a problem with defending Trenton; it was different when he was protecting someone.

But he wasn't protecting someone right now. And Wes just couldn't bring himself to do it, no matter what Mari had done. She could've stabbed him right now, and he wouldn't have been able to return the favor.

His immunity was wasted on him.

He picked Mari up again, leaning her against the railway leading up the stairs. He walked into the bathroom, finding the rope, before tying her up. He remembered his boy scout's lessons well, and used the most efficient knot he could recall.