The Delivery Man: A Nice Chat

Carlos felt the cold water on his face as waves passed over him. He smiled with his eyes closed and let the ocean carry him down the current. It had been a long time since he had time to relax. It was just a few weeks ago he was being chased by mutant beasts and an unrelenting army in a never ending hellscape to deliver a very important package. After a tough work schedule, sometimes you just need to take some mental health days. Another splash of water hit his face but this time it had a lot more force. And it wasn’t salty. Also, someone just punched him in the face.

“Wake up!”

Carlos bolted up, eyes wide open, coughing up water onto the ground. His breathing took up most of his hearing and there was nothing to see but a green light overhead. Pain pulsed in his right hand as he tried to move it, wrapped behind him as he sat in a wooden chair. He could slide his feet back and forth a little but not much. His options were to sit a little to the right or a slight shift to the left. But he could move his neck. So that was something.

“I need you to pay attention.”

Carlos’ head shot to the left as another punch landed on his cheek. The taste of pennies on his lips kept him focused and he took a deep breath to right himself.

“Well, you definitely have it, friend. What do you want to talk about? I’m very fond of early Victorian vacation homes-“

“Shut up.” Said the voice as another punch landed across his raw face. “All we want to hear from you is where and when the next shipment is. Anything other than that, is pointless. “

Carlos shifted himself to an upright position. He still couldn’t see anyone or anything. Just a green light, though, it appeared to get closer. Stretching his neck, he looked into the distance and spoke with confidence.

“These are not the droids you’re looking for.”

He got smacked this time. Looks like the puncher is getting tired. Win for Carlos, he thought.

“Don’t you see? We only want to help mankind.” Said a different, pleasant voice.

“Sweet!” Carlos enthusiastically replied.

“If we remove the week, the strong can build a better place-“

“A little less sweet.”

“-No longer having to take care of the unwanted and useless-“

“More of a tart, lemony taste.”

“-and achieving what our forefathers couldn’t. A real, utopian society-”

“Like a rhubarb pie. Have you ever had one of those? I wouldn’t recommend it.”

It got quiet, again. Carlos smiled at no one and waited for the familiar awkwardness to pass. The green light got a little closer, almost buzzing in his ear. A shape was now visible above him and he began to speak with that pleasant, soft voice that made Carlos want to ask for the night’s dinner specials.

“We can’t move forward without a sample. We know you have delivered it before. We can end all of this. The mutants, the violence, the hate. All of it will end once we get what we need. Isn’t that simple? Super simple right? I mean, come on. Can you do that for me?”

“You know what? You’re right. Why are we doing this? This isn’t a life. If we got to make some sacrifices, I mean other people’s sacrifices, to be in a better place, so be it! They will understand! This is how we stick together. This is how we win!”

The shape moved right above Carlos, close enough to whisper.

“You are doing the right thing. I’m proud of you, son.”

“Thanks, not dad. You smell like cabbage.”

Carlos flexed his neck forward, landing the top of his head on the edge of the man’s nose. The calm voice gave a quick high squeak and backed away. Boots moved forward but before they could grab him, Carlos slid his foot to the left hard, breaking the wooden leg. Kicking up, now that he was free, the green light shattered and sparked, leaving the room in darkness.

“Geht hem!” A not so calm and rude voice said.

Hands grabbed for Carlos, hitting empty space. Grunts of pain echoed in the black as heavy bodies hit the floor. A flash of a gun followed by the loud bang of a discharge heard in the small, enclosed area certainly caused ear damage to everyone inside.

“Give me that! Haven’t you taken a gun safety course before?”

A loud umpf followed by another plop of a large body again filled the room. Chambers of a gun were opened and checked in the dark and could be heard being put away. A switch clicked and the room was filled with light.

“Well that’s better. Poor lighting does not make a communal work area functional. Seriously, how do you get anything done? Wires everywhere, gas cans, random dead bodies. This is an OSHA nightmare.”

The calm voice belonged to a blonde gentleman in his forties who was now crawling his way to the door. Carlos waited for the man to realize that he was being extremely loud, about twenty feet from the door, and had a broken ankle caught on the rest of the rope still connected to the wooden chair. Eventually, that time came. The man turned to Carlos, wheezing from his broken nose with tears and blood mixed on his face.

“What are you going to do to me? I just want to make this world a prosperous place. That doesn't happen unless we make tough, hard decisions. I’m not a monster, I’m a realist.”

Carlos walked past the man and unlocked the door. He took a quick look outside to check if the coast was clear.

“I’m not in the business of judging people and taking sides. I know where you are coming from and, yes, your ideas are flawed but come from a place of resolution. Problem solving. A way to erase our mistakes and chart our own future. This is your path forward and I can respect that.”

The man on the floor nodded his head.

“Just kidding. I’m going to leave this door open for the hungry mutants. Bye now!”