Blameless in a mad world

It would have been nice to have had advanced notice that Optix Automation, the company you work for, would be shutting down for two and a half months, effective immediately.

The news hits everyone who works there at once.

According to contract, Optix is obligated to keep paying employees until their doors reopen. But by word of mouth, you just found out their insurance only covers 30 days for each employee. One month.

It's in fine writing at the bottom of the contract. Something you, along with a few dozen others, never bothered to read.

Optix failed a government inspection. The resulting violations forces operations to remain on hold until a full audit of the facilities can take place.

No one saw this coming.

Not even your boss.

The thought of going the final forty-five days without income gives you a slight panic. Yes, you have money saved but it’s not supposed to rescue you from your own job. You are proud of the nine hundred dollars you put away and don't want to touch it if you can avoid it.

Being just two years out of college, you have no kids to take care of or mortgage to maintain. You barely have any bills to pay and could actually save money faster if you didn’t always have your eyes on a bunch of stuff you don't need.

Like that time you bought those waterproof pants cos the commercial made them look cool. That was six months ago and you still haven’t opened the package to try them on.

Struggling through those years of college is a memory still fresh. Surviving on dirt cheap groceries makes you never want to hear the words, ramen or peanut butter again.

With three other offspring to spread their finances amongst, your parents were barely able to help. But you crushed the odds and graduated with a degree in the engineering field. Something to be proud of.

Troubleshooting the work issue, you reach in your bag of tricks and realize you still have that Uber app on your phone. Of course! It wouldn't hurt to fire up the app to see what fares are like in Seattle.

Uber came through for you as the perfect side hustle before graduating. And it’s not like you have to get rehired. All you have to do is update the app along with your credentials, set a new location, and accept whatever fares you want.

It’s exactly what you plan to do...

*

After the first couple of weeks of not working at all, lazing around and gaining a pound or two from exercising nothing but the X-box controller, boredom sets in. You click on the app to get a head start on keeping your finances on track.

The first two days allow you to get reacquainted with the process. You see that Uber now has a tier program with incentives behind them, giving you more opportunities to make income.

You end up earning $278 working 6 hours a day for 2 days. Not bad.

Near the end of day three, around 11pm, you take a fare that pays $24 for a 5-mile drive. Pretty simple. Even better, it's going in the direction of your apartment complex.

After pressing the green confirmation button, you begin driving to the pick-up location, content that you’re at least working but kind of tired at the moment.

Arriving at the address on time, you place your vehicle in park, anticipating the fare coming out.

You weren't expecting to be parked in front of a bright, red Walgreens sign. A drug mart is not the strangest place you've ever picked someone up at, but it kind of feels strange. Peculiar.

Two minutes pass and the fare is yet to make an appearance. Maybe it's an employee just getting off work there. You think about calling them but decide to wait longer.

Wanting something to do while waiting, you grab your phone from the holder to reread texts you never answered from your mother and cousin, imagining the likely responses until the sound of the rear door opening snaps you back to reality. A man is getting inside.

You quickly put your phone back on the holder and return the app to its home screen, exchanging hellos. Your foot goes to the brake in preparation of putting your dark blue, mid-sized SUV in gear.

"Thank you for waiting… This is the actual address I need you to take me to. It's about four miles away but I'll still pay the twenty-four dollars for the original drive." the man says, handing you a piece of paper with an address scribbled on it.

"Oh, that’s okay but thank you. I'll get you there as soon as possible." you say, inputting the new address.

"Also, if you don't mind waiting and want a few extra dollars, I need to be dropped off in Lindale afterwards. I can pay you another fifteen off record if you can do that."

You immediately start adding numbers in your brain. Thirty-nine dollars total for seven miles of driving? Why not?

You agree and adjust the radio to a comfortable volume before pulling off.

During the drive, you eye the rearview mirror frequently; something you do out of habit. You can never forget that these are strangers you are driving around.

Before long, you make it to the destination. It turns out to be a Homestyle restaurant at the corner of a strip mall. Nothing big. Just a mom-and-pop place that’s probably been in someone’s family for decades. The absence of lights inside tells you it’s shut down for the evening.

Preparing to exit the vehicle, the passenger mentions he's part owner of the restaurant and needs to drop off documents for his partner to look over in the morning. The smell of alcohol on his breath makes you assume he's had too much to want to drive himself.

He leaves the car and goes around the side of the building, perhaps to gain entry through the back door. You reach for your phone again and pick up where you left off.

You don't have to wait too long, though. Within a few minutes, the man comes walking back to the car with a pep in his step and an irate look on his face. You brace yourself for what ever happened.

"Can you believe we were fucking robbed? My office is torn apart in there! I just got off the phone with 911." the man says as he pulls out a cigarette, twitching while trying to light it. “Dammit! I don't know what to do now... Look, I need some help. Here's a crisp, 100-dollar bill. I just need you to drop off this package from the pharmacy at my mother's house. I have to wait until the police get here. All you would have to do is leave it on her porch. If you can do that, the hundred bucks is yours…I can't believe this shit! The rest of my night is fucked!"

You see the cash being held up in front of you. There is no way you are going to miss out on pocketing that for 15 minutes of work. You stall for a few moments, pretending to be undecided when you already know you're going to agree, but don't want to seem too anxious.

"Okay. And all I have to do is drop it off on her porch, right?"

He nods his head yes and hands you the cash through the window. In his other hand is a padded envelope, bulging in the middle from the meds it contains. He gives that to you after.

"Thank you. And make sure you drop it off there. My mother's got high blood pressure and Asthma. She needs those meds tonight. I'll probably wait a half hour then call her to make sure she got them."

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll get it there." you say, your eyes full of dollar signs.

This is exactly the dream tip every driver wishes for, planting a smile across your face.

On the way there, you crank the radio, singing along with the lyrics while tapping a fist to the beat on the steering wheel. The day will end with huge margins. It excites you.

Easy enough, you park your car on the street and approach the modest, 2-story home, its large front yard has a 'For Sale' sign lying flat in the grass. You continue walking, passing two cars in the driveway on the way to the porch. Brown shades are pulled down on the front windows, but you can see light coming from the edges of them. You place the package near the door, knock and leave.

Why would you knock?

You weren't supposed to knock. That wasn't part of the instructions. You felt it was the right thing to do, making sure his mother gets the package as soon as possible.

Two men come busting out the door seconds later, looking around. One has a gun in his right hand down by his side.

You hear the sudden commotion and turn back towards the house. That's when you see the two men standing outside staring at the package. They grab it. A moment later, their attention shifts to you standing on the sidewalk looking at them.

"HEY YOU! WHAT THE FUCK!"

You tilt your head in confusion. Maybe you dropped it at the wrong location, but you triple checked the address before leaving it there.

The men come running off the porch toward you. Your stomach drops and your eyes widen when you see the silver glint of a gun reflecting in the streetlight.

You don't know what is happening but are sure whatever it is, is a simple misunderstanding.

"Can we help you with something? Kind of late to be delivering packages.” the one with the gun says as he slows down to a halt and stays a few yards away from you, not moving too far off the property. He raises the gun and points it... at you!

You put your hands in the air and stop where you are. What else are you supposed to do when someone points a gun at you? The reaction is automatic, born of immediate fear. Your car sits five feet behind you, held in your mind as the only way out but too far to reach.

"Sorry! I was just asked to drop that off here. This guy gave me 100 dollars to bring it. I'm just an Uber driver." you nervously say.

"Who? Who paid you to drop it off here?" the man asks with an intimidating glare.

"I don't know his name... I can check my phone. It might be on there."

You lower your right hand, the one holding the phone and look at the screen, struggling to focus through the adrenaline. The trip details are still displayed.

"All it says here is, A. Warren." you say, putting your hand back up with the other.

"Do we know an A. Warren?" the man says turning to his friend or whoever he is to see if he recognizes the partial name.

The other man frowns slightly and hunches his shoulders. He doesn't recall the name.

"What did he look like?" the gunman says with a sudden jerk, causing you to flinch.

"He...he was kinda tall. Salt and pepper short hair and a few pockmarks on his face. And... he was wearing a brown leather jacket with I think a square, black patch on one of the shoulders. Maybe both of the shoulders. The app doesn't show the customer's face or I would-"

"I bet it was Rico! Doesn't he wear a jacket like that?" the gunman says to the other, then turns back to you. "That fuckface was supposed to stop by here today. He owes me a shit-ton of money! Go ahead and open it, Griff. There better be a bunch of cash in there."

You and the gunman watch Griff bring the package up with both hands and begins to open it.

Before it's completely open, you see a small, blue flash happen at the seam where it's being torn. And then.

BOOM!

The package explodes, sending a powerful shockwave that knocks you straight to the pavement. There is smoke everywhere and debris falling through it to the ground.

Disorientation is overwhelming, leaving you completely rattled from the blast. You think you are hurt but only have a few scrapes and dirt on your palms from breaking your fall.

Lights begin to flash on in neighboring houses. Doors open and people cautiously peek out to see what happened.

You push up on your arms, hyperventilating and can see the two men on the ground, not moving. If you would have been any closer, you might be in the same predicament.

Your ears are ringing so loudly you swear the sound is coming from speakers hidden in the trees. You get to your feet, stumbling to your car with the only thought of getting out of there. You waste little time putting the car into gear, burning rubber as you begin leaving this horrific incident.

With hands cemented to the steering wheel, you look in the rearview mirror and see neighbors in the street in pajamas, some are holding flashlights watching your car drive away. You turn the corner, fighting back sounds of insanity through clenched teeth, your expression bordering on madness.

In an out-of-body state, you get away from the scene. Did that just happen? you wonder, lying low and taking backstreets the whole way home.

*
Three hours pass and your nerves haven’t settled. You’re still pacing inside the apartment, checking the windows every few seconds for the police or anything suspicious. You can't be sure if anyone got your license plate number or a good description of your vehicle. Or even a good look at you!

You take a minute to replay the night in your mind, not knowing if fleeing was the right thing to do. Or, if those men died back there. You did nothing wrong. You thought you were being a good Samaritan by helping someone out. Instead, some asshole who probably lied about everything unintentionally sets you up to become the prime suspect for a crime you are utterly clueless of. You shouldn't have knocked.

Before deciding what to do next, you open the Uber app one last time before deleting it. You don't care to drive strangers around anymore. And now, you have a much bigger problem than money to deal with...

You don't sleep at all that night.

Or the next.