Authors: Ernest Dempsey
Atlanta, Georgia
Helen and Joe crouched next to one of the stacks of vaccination
packages. Over the row across from where they crouched, the clicking sound of
hard sole shoes clicked on the concrete. The man in the suit was walking down
the aisle. Where he was going was a mystery they didn’t want to know the answer
to.
The machine in the aisle behind them hummed along before stopping. Joe
felt the pallet vibrate suddenly and realized the robotic lift was picking up
the stack. Helen had the same realization, and they both leaned forward for a
second. A moment later, the entire pallet was a few inches off the ground and
was being pulled away from them, creating a gap in the row of shipments.
At the same time the robot had centered the load and started moving
back towards the back of the facility, Joe heard the voices of the two people
in lab coats. The employees were about to round the corner of the aisle where
Joe and Helen were hiding. Thinking fast, Joe grabbed his wife’s shoulder and
pulled her into the empty space that had just been vacated by the machine.
He leaned up against the stack of vaccinations with his back towards
where the voices had come. They were continuing to move towards the entrance of
the warehouse. For the time being, they were safe. But he didn’t want any more
close calls.
“We need to get out of here,” he whispered.
She said nothing, but nodded in agreement. Taking his cue, she peeked
down the lane in both directions to make sure the cost was clear. Seeing no
danger, she slipped across the smooth floor and crouched next to another stack
of vaccinations. Helen examined the white shipping label for a second then
turned to Joe with a sly grin.
“This is it,” she mouthed silently while jerking her thumb at the
product. He gave a quick nod and shuffled over to where she squatted by the
wrapped plastic containers.
Joe slipped a knife out of his pocket and in a quick motion had
unfolded the blade. A few seconds later, he had opened up a long slit in the
plastic wrap. The containers within were small, about the size of a shoebox,
and were made from a thick, white plastic. Joe carefully slid one out,
terrified that pulling one box out would cause all the others to tumble down
onto the floor.
Joe was relieved when that didn’t happen and placed the hard-shell box
down on the floor between he and his wife. The company logo was on the top, as
well as the description of what was inside. The label said it contained
influenza vaccinations, though Joe and Helen feared it was something far more
sinister.
They both had the same thought simultaneously. But Joe voiced the
concern first. “If we open this, and we are right, and it breaks, we could
die.” His eyes carried his fear.
She tilted her head slightly and answered in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Then let’s not break it, sweetie.” Her southern accent and casual demeanor
relaxed him a little.
Helen reached down and unhooked the clasps that kept the box sealed.
As she slowly opened the lid, a little cloud of mist escaped for a second. Joe
looked up suddenly, worried they had already unleashed something. She shook her
head, and continued to lift the lid. Inside were four, glass vials of clear
liquid. Her thin, strong fingers wrapped around one of the tiny containers and
started to pry it up out of its foam casing when a voice from the other end of
the warehouse froze her in place.
“What’s going on over there?”
Joe’s face petrified, eyes wide. He eased his head slightly to the
left to see beyond his wife. The man in the suit covered by a white lab coat
stood at the other end of the aisle with a tablet device in his hand and a
suspicious stare in his eyes. Joe only had a second to come up with an answer.
So, he did the only thing he could think of. He told the truth, sort of.
“Something cut open this shipment, and one of the containers ended up
on the floor.” He folded the knife with one hand and returned it to his pocked
as he stood, hoping the man hadn’t noticed.
Helen looked up at him with a glare of death. “What are you doing?”
she mouthed to him as she palmed the vial. She quickly closed the container and
slipped it back into its place in the stack.
The man in the suit cocked his head sideways for a second as if
contemplating whether or not he should check it out.
“The contents weren’t damaged,” Joe explained. “But we’re going to
need to re-wrap this thing.” He hoped the suit would accept his explanation.
When the man started walking their direction, Joe felt his heart sink
into his stomach. Helen stood up and spun around. He noticed the vial was no
longer in her hand and wondered if she had put it back in the container.
“How did this happen?” the man asked pointedly. His nametag claimed he
was Tom Thurmond.
Helen shrugged and answered. “We aren’t sure. Looks like one of the
loaders may have cut the plastic on accident as it passed by. It’s kind of
strange, though.” She remained cool while speaking to the threat.
Tom barely paid any attention to them or the tags that hung around
their necks. Instead, he focused on the cut in the shipping plastic. He reached
out a soft hand and ran his finger along the edge of the cut.
“It looks like something sharp did this.” He turned his attention back
to Joe and Helen. “You didn’t see how it happened, though?”
They both shook their heads in tandem.
He looked back at the opening then surprised both of them by holding
out his tablet for Joe to hold. Joe gave a quick nod and grabbed the device.
“Which one fell out?” he asked pulling back the packaging.
Helen pointed to the container, which the man immediately began to pry
out with a high level of care.
“You’re sure none of the others fell out or were damaged?”
“That was the only one we saw,” she clarified.
The man set the container on top of the stack and cautiously unhooked
the clasps. Joe watched with apprehension, wondering what he should do.
Thoughts of hitting the guy over the back of the head and making a mad dash for
the door ran through his head. But he knew that had almost no chance of working
out.
Tom Thurmond lifted the lid, again revealing the thin fog that
emanated from within the little box. A second later the four vials came into
view, all in tact in the foam casing, and in perfect condition.
He lowered the top of the container and locked it back into place
before stuffing it back in its place among the others.
“Looks like the contents are ok,” he said finally, taking his tablet
back from Joe. “Glad you two noticed this,” he said in a stern but appreciative
tone.
“Me too,” Joe said, trying to hide his relief.
“I will go ahead and alert the shipping department to fix this
immediately before the send it out.” He began tapping the screen on his tablet
and turned to walk away.
The man was half way down the aisle when Helen and Joe turned the
other direction to get out as fast as they could. They’d only taken a few
hurried steps when the man’s voice interrupted them again.
“Oh,” Tom yelled at them.
They halted instantly and spun around slowly, fearful their identities
had come into question.
“Thanks for finding this.”
“No problem,” Joe offered with a right-hand salute while Helen just
smiled and gave a nod.
He could feel his wife mentally grabbing his arm to get the heck out
of there. The two spun around again and walked casually around the corner of
the row of shipments. Once they were out of sight, their feet picked up to a
more hurried pace. The other two workers in lab coats were out of sight, but they
didn’t want to chance it. Joe hit the button to open the door to the
sterilizing chamber and ushered his wife in.
“I’ll be right behind you.” He let the door close behind her and kept
a careful eye on the man name Tom who was currently walking away from the
anomaly in the shipping warehouse.
Joe noticed the robotic loaders had stopped moving about the time
Helen had entered the cleansing chamber. He could hear the sound of the jet
spray inside and couldn’t help himself from wishing it would go a little
faster. He was about to check to see how much longer the thing had when he
noticed the two other people in lab coats from earlier round the corner at the
other end of the room. They were busily looking through some sheets and
talking. But if Helen didn’t get out of the airlock soon, their identities
might be compromised. Joe and his wife had been lucky to get away from Tom
Thurmond. Joe didn’t feel like pressing his luck again.
The buzzer sounded from behind him, startling him to the point he
almost jumped out of the coat. He whirled around and pressed on the button to
open the automatic door. He saw the two people in the lab coats look up and see
him enter the chamber, but a quick side glance told him they hadn’t paid him
any mind and were back to chatting about something else.
What seemed like an hour, but was probably thirty seconds later, the
other door to the airlock opened and he stepped out while taking off the lab
coat. Helen was on the other side, already out of her costume and clearly ready
to leave.
“What about the sample?” he mumbled as he shook off the lab coat,
trying not to move his lips, wary of the camera in the corner.
“Let’s just get out of here,” she replied.
“But the sample. Millions of lives—”
“I said let’s go.”
He had heard that tone for a variety of reasons over the years. Joe
knew when to fight a battle and when to let one go. This was one of those times
where he had to surrender. He carelessly hung the coat on a hook and followed
her down the hallway towards the front of the building.
A few tense moments later they arrived at the door where the guard was
stationed at his desk. Helen pressed a button that would open the door, and the
two walked through as casually as possible, desperately attempting not to look
like they were trying to escape.
The young, muscular guard smiled at them as they eased by. They were
nearly to the end of the hall when his voice echoed through the corridor, again
freezing them in place.
“Hey stop,” the words sent a chill down Joe’s spine.
He imagined Helen was experiencing the same sensation, but to look at
her face you couldn’t tell. They turned slowly, expecting to see the friendly
security guard with a gun in one hand and a radio in the other. Instead, he had
a clipboard and a pen as he slowly walked towards them.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized in a sheepish tone, “but I forgot to
have you guys sign in earlier and I need you to just put your names on here.
It’s something they’ve been making us do lately. With all the security they
have, I think it’s a little redundant. But you know how big corporations are.”
Helen let out a long, annoyed sigh. “You know, it really is
frustrating,” she sympathized and took the pen from the guy, writing down her
name in a left-hand column.
“Tell me about it,” he remarked as Helen finished and handed the pen
to Joe.
Joe said nothing, afraid his voice would crack. For a moment, he
hesitated, trying to remember what the fake name on the ID card said. His
fingers began to shake as he nearly panicked.
A few tension-filled seconds later, the name came to him, and he blew
off his moment of trepidation by saying, “Oh, I sign here. I’m sorry. My eyes
aren’t what they used to be.” He signed the name quickly and set the pen back
down on the clipboard.
“Thank you. I appreciate your understanding,” the guard smiled and
waved, giving Helen one last glance before turning around.
This time, the both of them didn’t worry about looking like they were
in a hurry as they marched down the corridor and out the hall into the foyer.
When both of their car doors were shut, Joe and Helen let out a deep
sigh of relief. She revved the engine to life and wheeled the sedan out of the
parking lot and onto the road as quickly as possible.
“That was too close,” she commented, steering the vehicle onto the
interstate, heading south.
“Yeah,” Joe said, looking back through the rear window of the car as
if he were afraid someone was following. “But what are we going to do about the
sample? If those shipments get sent, millions, possibly billions of people
could die if there is some kind of super virus in those containers.”
“Sweetie, you don’t need to worry about that,” Helen smiled over at
him and merged into one of the middle lanes. She stuck her hand in her suit
jacket pocket and removed a small, glass vial. “We got what we needed.”
His face washed with disbelief. “How did you…but the guy in the
warehouse…there were four vials in that container.”
Her grin widened. “I slipped it in my pocket while I put the container
back. Then, when he asked which one it was, I told him the one next to it. Just
an old shell game, baby.”
“Did I tell you, you were good?” Joe laughed. “You are really good. I
do okay with bullets flyin’ at me. But all that sneakin’ around stuff is for
the birds. About wrecked my nerves just now.”