Destroy contents of box? Truthfully? This was nuts.

He turned the radio up. Rolled the window down. Definitely smelled a storm.

4

At eleven seventeen Tom thought he heard something like a giggle come from directly behind his seat.

He turned quick to check on it but the driver’s seat was flush against the cabin wall and Tom knew nothing could fit behind him.

Maybe it was the tires. Maybe it was the radio.

The CB suddenly piped up static and Tom jumped in his seat.

“Is Tomcat out there?”

Someone was trying to reach him. Someone had seen him out on the road and was phoning in.

He reached for the CB and stopped.

The instructions told him not to tell anybody where he was going. What would he say? Should he lie?

“Tomcat…it’s Beartrap here…thought I saw you out there…was I wrong?”

Tom felt a sudden surge of shame, as if he’d been spotted transporting something illegal.

Answer the CB, Tom thought. The instructions just said not to mention 726 Rolling Hills…Goblin…

Beartrap was an old friend. A fellow road dog.

Answer the CB. Come on.

“Tomcat?”

He picked it up.

“Hey, old Bear…Tomcat indeed. You saw me right.”

There was no response from Beartrap. Only static. Tom turned the volume up, but all it did was give him more static.

“Hey, old Bear…repeat…that was handsome Tomcat you saw on the road.”

Still no response. Only static.

Tom hung it back up.

“Well, Beartrap,” he said to nobody. “Let’s hope it isn’t drugs. Let’s hope it’s a shitty piece of art that couldn’t hurt a fly if it fell on it.”

5

If there was a fly in the back, the box might’ve fallen on it.

At eleven twenty-nine Tom heard a thud so loud he was sure it had to be the tires. He gripped the wheel and braced himself, already accepting the fact that he might not get the package to Goblin on time.

But it wasn’t a wheel. And he hadn’t hit anything. And nothing had hit him.

So, what then? What then other than the box falling on its side in the truck?

6

Once back door is secure do not open until you have arrived at 726 Rolling Hills…

Call it habit or professionalism or just plain interest but Tom didn’t care about this particular instruction. If the box fell, the box fell. And it was his job to see that what he delivered was in the same shape coming as going.

“And how will Dean Crawford know the difference?”

He looked at himself in the driver’s-side mirror and saw he looked a little wiry, gaunt, crazy.

The box was getting to him. The instructions were driving him nuts.