10 May 2012
[I admit this story takes a bit of time to get into! I'd advise to get up to the ellipsis before deciding it's not for you! Hope you enjoy]
“Another enthralling day at Al’s Self-Storage Facility then?”
The mid-morning light from the glass doors outlined the silhouette of a short haired man in a tall coat. As he stepped closer his features began to assemble. I placed the book I was barely reading down on the side and came up to the counter, stifling a smile of acknowledgment.
“What can I do for you today, sir?”
His gaze moved from the crumpled yellow walls to the deteriorating laminated name tag on my chest.
“I would like to deposit an item in one of your boxes please. And if you could do it with haste I would be incredibly grateful.”
He gave me a warm smile that begged me to return it. I caught a glimpse of something metal at his belt line before he closed the folds of his trench coat.
“What size unit you need? We got anything from 5’ x 5’s to 10’ x 25’s.”
“Actually I was looking for something a little smaller.”
He glanced behind him then winced as though in pain, his hand shooting up to his neck. I noticed that the scarf covering it appeared to be damp; a darker patch stained one side.
“Do you have any lockers? Or a safety deposit box perhaps?” he asked, flashing that winning smile again.
“Well usually a bank would be better for...”
“Unfortunately I’m in a bit of a rush so I’ll take whatever you can give me.”
I reached under the counter and brought up a blue box about the size and shape of a brick. In a few seconds I had selected the correct combination and proudly swivelled the open box around.
“Perfect” he beamed.
“This isn’t strictly part of our services so I have to ask that you rent a unit along with the box. I’ll just put you down for the small one.”
“Nonsense, I’ll take the largest!”
After completing the transaction for a month’s rental and accepting his cash, we walked out back towards the storage spaces, passing by about a dozen corrugated steel doors before reaching number 1014. I handed him a card with the code to the unit and box written on it and waited patiently while he worked the keypad. As the door rolled open he turned to me.
“Actually, would you mind if I had a moment in private to sort this out?”
There was a bulge in the top pocket of his trench coat that I hadn’t noticed before and assumed it was the item he was attempting to store. I nodded and retreated back to the reception area as he placed the box in the middle of the unnecessarily large room. Turning back briefly I notice him take another quick look either side before grasping his painful neck and closing the door behind himself. I was used to unusual behaviour in this job, but something about the man unsettled me.
When he returned I noticed that he had removed his scarf but also rolled up the collar of his trench coat to cover his neck. I reached for my book again as he bid me farewell. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him place a cash tip on the counter, but before I could thank him he had vanished...
“Open the box.”
Her voice was calm and her gun steady, but there was a menace in her eyes that let me know she was serious. I shuddered as the door to the unit clunked closed, leaving only the weak light from the bulb above. The two frighteningly well-built men that had helped convince me to open the door positioned themselves behind me, standing professionally still. I stared at the box on the floor through watery eyes.
“No.”
I don’t know why I said it but I immediately regretted having spoken. The force of the gun to my head caused my consciousness to flicker and I emitted a choked grunt, unable to muster the yell that the pain deserved.
“Open the box,” she repeated, straightening her expensive grey suit and trousers.
This time I obeyed. Dragging it closer to me, I scrolled the number wheels until I heard the click, then collapsed on the ground holding my wound.
She picked up the box, opened the lid and looked inside, her expression remaining unchanged. Slowly she lifted out the blood-stained scarf, to my utter confusion. This is what they were looking for? A small piece of paper fell near my face as the scarf unravelled that I recognised to be the card with the security codes. On the back, written in perfect handwriting, was a message: ‘You owe me a new scarf’.
A throbbing vain in her temple was the only indication as to any emotion. The gun found its way back to my head again as I moved up onto my knees.
“I’m going to give you one minute to tell me everything you know about that man. Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered, tears in my eyes.
“Where is he?” Her voice raised as her patience diminished.
“I don’t know he didn’t say where he was headed.” My vision was beginning to restore now, but the pounding in my head kept me grounded.
“What did he say? Did he mention anything about ‘thorn protocol’ to you? Did he?”
Her gun arm was shaking now, the vain on her head raging. I shook my head, arms trembling as I steadied myself on them. I felt like a dog, a wounded dog that was about to be put down. She bent down low and brought her head close to mine. Her voice became insanely calm, as though she were talking to a child.
“Wouldn’t you rather get out of this alive... Al?” She glanced at my name tag.
“Don’t you have a wife, a girlfriend perhaps that would be worried about you?”
No was the simple answer to that question, but I thought that perhaps the more valuable she assumed my life was the more likely she was to spare it. It was clear I knew nothing. She glanced briefly at her henchmen behind me then turned away towards the door.
“Get rid of him,” she said, and they did.
Safe • Opuss № I