Don't Open the Package

Brad glanced at the buildings as he rounded the corner of the alley. He caught the sign to the left -- “Deliveries Only”. He quietly inched towards the door, as he didn't want to draw attention. He was holding a small brown package in his hands, the obsession of his thoughts for the past 24 hours. He didn’t know what was in it and didn't even care at this point. He just wanted it gone.

He thought of his plan as he walked to the door. According to the news, they knew it was a RAT that had the package, but, thanks to his disguise, they didn’t know it was him. He knew he would be in big trouble if they caught him. As he crept closer, he thought, I can just drop it and then run back down the alley.

He reconsidered this plan as he gently placed the box down. If someone other RAT takes it, they would still be looking for him. Maybe he could let them know somehow. He saw a greasy white doorbell next to the delivery door. Maybe he could ring the bell? As he contemplated ringing the bell, the door suddenly swung open and a pair of hands grabbed him.

He yelled as a cloth came sweeping down over his face. He stopped as he became aware of the lessening oxygen underneath this eyeless hood. He was dragged inside.

‘Don’t touch it! I will get it,” A woman’s voice commanded. A moment later, he could hear the door slam.

“Take him to CSV-05,” a male voice ordered.

Brad was suddenly being dragged away. He couldn't see where he was or where he was going. He was jerked around left and right as he changed directions. Eventually, he heard a heavy metal door creak open. He felt the metal of the door scrape against him as he was dragged within. He was made to sit down roughly onto a cold metal chair.

“Don't you dare move!” a voice whispered in a low growl.

Voices chattered as footsteps wandered in and out of the room. What were they going to do to him? After a couple of minutes, the metal door creaked, then slammed closed. He could hear a lock engage.

The mask was ripped roughly off his head. Brad could see that he was in a completely metal room--metal walls, a metal table with metal chairs, and the metal door where he entered.

The man who took the cloth off his head was clearly military, with precision-cut blond hair and an all-green khaki uniform with multiple stripes and medals.

The man walked silently and sternly around the metal table to join a woman sitting across from Brad. She wore a white lab coat, which contrasted with her chocolate skin. She adjusted her black glasses as she carefully inspected the unopened package.

Once settled into his chair, the man, steely-eyed, leaned in towards Brad and barked, “How did you get that package?”

Brad shifted nervously in his chair. How could he save himself? “I didn’t steal it!” He called out.

“I don't believe you!” The man yelled as he leaned in closer, more menacingly. “How did you get it? Were you in on it?”

“No, I wasn’t!” cried Brad. Tears filled his eyes at the thought of his fate. He took a deep breath as he relayed his story to the interrogators.

---

Brad was a RAT, but not a thief. With the protection of the military, the rich decided that everyone else was expendable. Most people worked full time, but everyone was paid the same nearly slave wages. RATs were an open secret in this society. They were desperate enough to take to the alleyways at night, diving in dumpsters for food and valuable objects that could be pawned. It was a shameful activity, except for the poorest of the poor. Brad worked in IT during the day. Then, wearing a disguise, he stalked at night, like the other RATs with nice jobs. He never spoke of his activities to anyone else.

The night before, he was inside the dumpsters scavenging for food and valuables. He found a couple of unopened burgers and a gold ring, which was probably worth enough to buy him a week's worth of food. Content with his findings, he was about to crawl out from the dumpster when he heard a cry for help. Brad peered out.

A masked man was wielding a knife while his other hand gripped the collar of a delivery man.

“Give me the keys and you will live!” The robber yelled. Brad was terrified and wanted to run away, but he knew his footsteps echoing in the alley would give him away. So he just cowered in the dumpster.

“Okay, okay, here you go,” the delivery man acquiesced, handing the keys to the robber.

The robber shoved his victim to the ground and smiled at the keys in his hand. He laughed and shook his head as he walked away from the shaking man, who collapsed and cried in the fetal position. Suddenly, some footsteps hurried into the alleyway as a loud voice boomed, “Stop!”

It was the military police. They must have been monitoring the area. The robber attempted to escape, but one quick swipe of one officer's electric baton jolted him to the ground. The keys clanked as they flew from the robber’s hand. The officer that shocked him began to handcuff him while the others checked on the delivery man. He was pretty shaken but okay. They called an ambulance as some officers dragged the robber away. Brad knew the robber would be executed by morning, as the penalty for theft is death.

The ambulance came soon after then the EMTs checked on the victim as they strapped him onto the gurney. He was taken into the ambulance as the few remaining officers picked up the keys and glanced around for any other suspects or witnesses. Brad laid quietly in the dumpster as the ambulance and police eventually left the scene.

Once they were gone, Brad felt safe enough to crawl out of the dumpster and into the alley. He started to creep away from the dumpster, but a small package near the dumpster caught his eye. He wasn’t sure if it was trash or not, as it was about 10 feet away from the door that said: “Deliveries Only”.

He walked up to the package and picked it up. It was extremely light, almost like there was nothing in it. However, the word “Fragile” was stamped on the package. Whatever it was, it was valuable enough that someone didn’t want it broken. Brad stacked the burgers on top of it and quickly ran down the alley towards his home.

---

The man laughed at Brad’s story. Brad’s face turned red in shame and fear.

The woman, who was quietly listening, said “Commander Harrison, why would you think he made that up? Obviously, he wasn’t involved in the robbery, based upon the surveillance video!”

“Stay out of this Foster!” the man snapped at her.

“That’s Dr. Foster, and no, I won’t stay out of this!” She yelled back, putting the package down to lean towards him. “I’m not under your command, and this is my project.”

Harrison stood down and focused back on Brad. “What were you going to do with the package? You knew it wasn't yours.” He was still unconvinced of Brad’s story.

Brad said calmly, “I...I don't know. I mean, honestly, I was thinking about selling whatever the contents were--but, but at least I brought it back!” He was hoping for some sort of reprieve. He didn’t want to be executed for theft like the robber.

“I believe you,” said Dr. Foster calmly, “and lucky for you, you didn't open the package.”

Brad looked puzzled. “Wait, what is in the package?”

“It’s classified!” Commander Harrison and Dr. Foster yelled in unison.

There was an awkward silence in the room.

“Well, what are you going to do with me?” Brad asked.

Dr. Foster and Commander Harrison looked at each other. “We will discuss that,” Commander Harrison said, rising to stand.

Dr. Foster also stood, “As you know, the penalty for theft is death, but we may be able to extend you some mercy since you did return the package.”

Commander Harrison motioned for Dr. Foster to follow him as he knocked on the metal door. The door quickly unlocked and they silently walked out as the door slammed behind them and quickly locked again.

Brad stared at the package. What was in there? What was so secret that they couldn't even tell me what it was at all? Well, since he may die anyway, it may be worth knowing what he was dying for. He looked at the package and then looked at the door.

--

The guards looked curiously as Commander Harrison and Dr. Foster quietly argued while walking down the hallway toward Harrison’s office.

“He didn't know what he was doing,” Dr. Foster pleaded, “We should just let him go.”

“No,” Harrison countered. “Rules are rules. He technically stole the package. He wasn't supposed to have it; he should have left the package alone if he didn't want to be in trouble,”

“He didn’t know whether it was trash or not. It was next to the dumpster. There has to be some allowance for intent.”

They walked into Harrison’s office and closed the door. They quickly glanced at Harrison’s security monitor. The feed was somewhat fuzzy, but they could see Brad at the table, looking down. Commander Harrison sat down in his chair and started looking through his drawers. Dr. Foster sat in the chair on the other side of the desk.

“Claire, he was going to sell it. We can't have these RATs stealing our stuff and then turning it in with no consequence once they have a change of heart.”

“He’s not a rat, John, he’s a human!” Dr. Foster glanced softly at Brad’s image on the security monitor before returning her gaze to the commander.

“Well, humans don't dig in trash cans to eat,” Harrison said coldly. “Anyway, we can run this by General Westhaven to see what he--”

Suddenly there was a loud boom followed by a scream. Dr. Foster recognized it as Brad’s voice. Harrison and Foster turned towards the monitor. It was black. Dr. Foster’s eyes widened as her eyes met Harrison’s. His demeanor turned from stern to worried.

They rushed out of the commander’s office and back down the hall. A few guards surrounded the door but were too fearful to investigate further.

“Open it, I will take a look,” Harrison said. The guard closest to the door unlocked it hesitantly. Harrison pulled the door open and peeked in cautiously. It was pitch black.

“I need a light!” Harrison motioned to the guards. One pulled out his flashlight and pointed it into the room. Frantically following the beam, Harrison realized that he could only see the four steel walls. Nearly everything else was gone. The table, the chairs, the camera, the light. And most importantly, Brad. When the light illuminated the center of the room, he could see the tattered remnants of the package on the floor.

“What the hell happened?” a guard called out from the back.

Dr. Foster, her voice trembling, observed: “He opened the package.”