World-Mart (7 page)

Virginia first suspected something was amiss when it occurred to her that everyone else in the room was a deviant.
 
Then, a shocking revelation came to her when one of the others stood, spread his arms, stared up at the camera, and yelled, “Why am I locked in here with a bunch of
deviants? 
What are you trying to prove?”

Everyone in the room turned to the man, and his eyes went wide at the unwanted attention.

“Nothing against any of you,” he said, his voice suddenly low and uncertain.

“I’m not a deviant,” said a young woman sitting nearby.

Everyone else watched in silence as the two stared at one another’s eyes, the impossible answer suddenly becoming painfully clear:
Each had entered the hospital a human, but would be leaving as a deviant.  Would Corporate even let them leave, or would they keep them all for research purposes?  Medical-Corp Management gave them no indication as to how the virus had been spread, but it was clear that they were being held for Corporate research.

Most of the people there
became
too bitter about their situation even to converse amongst one another
.
Although they were all victims of the same crime, animosity ran thick throughout the room.  They were lab rats in an overcrowded cage, and already a few of them were ready to slit throats for the sake of just a little more space.

There were two people Virginia felt she could trust, a young woman named Emily and a middle-aged man named Olaf.  Emily had a pretty figure, a sweet smile, and dark, straight hair.  She was a
c
ashier associate for Food-Mart’s Grocery Division, and she was engaged to be married.  Olaf had short salt-and-pepper hair and a long, grey beard.  He worked as a manager for Housing-Corp, had a wife of almost thirty years, and had a son who worked for Transportation-Corp.  Emily and Olaf both had insight enough to realize they were in this together, and with Virginia, they discussed possible escape strategies at night, huddled behind the short wall in the bathroom.

It was morning, as they had been fed breakfast already but they had not yet been fed lunch.  Virginia sat on the floor facing Emily, and the two played
R
ummy with a flimsy, worn deck of cards.  Olaf walked up and down the room, feeling out the rest of the group for potential co-conspirators.  Most of them ignored him, but a couple of them
grew
hostile at his presence.  Another older man screamed obscenities and shoved Olaf aside, while a young man threatened to knock out his teeth if he didn’t stick to his side of the room.

Olaf sat down on the bed beside Virginia, his face strained.  “Let the rest of them rot here,” he muttered.

“I can’t believe that guy threatened to punch you!” Emily said, making sure she was loud enough for the young man to hear her across the room.

“And I’ll knock out your pretty little teeth, too,
sweetheart
!” the young man angrily yelled back.

Emily rolled her eyes, returning to her cards.

Everyone looked up as the locks on the door clicked open.  A
medical manager
walked in carrying a briefcase, an armed security associate on either side of him.  The door shut behind them, and he took a few steps toward the beds.  Everyone went silent as they waited to hear what he had to say.

“We understand your situation is unfortunate, and we are doing what we can to keep all of you comfortable,” the medical
manager
began.  “There is a good possibility that we will not be able to reverse the virus’ effects, I’m afraid.  I hope you can understand that we can’t just return you to your families . . . given the circumstances.”  The blank expression that suddenly took over his face was chilling as he continued.  “Corporate has approved
free e
uthanasia
for
any in here who request it.”  He opened his briefcase and removed a sign-up sheet.  “I’ll just need your signatures.”

“Why can’t we just go home?” a young woman cried from her bed.  “I’m still me!  I don’t feel any different!”

“I’m sorry,” the medical
manager
said.  “Corporate has the final say on this, unfortunately, and Corporate still hasn’t decided what we’re going to do with all of you.”

The young woman sprang from her bed and made a dash for the door.

The security associates blocked the young woman as if they were linebackers working against a three hundred-pound foe.  They sent her flying, and her body hit the floor with a loud smack.  She stayed down, crying,
unable
to move from the awkward position
in which
the throw had landed her.  She fell silent after only a moment,
go
ing limp and still.

Emily moved to get up, but Olaf put a hand on her shoulder and held her back.  “Choose your battles.”

The room went silent as two young men and one older woman hesitantly approached the medical
manager
and signed his sheet.  Virginia covered her mouth, positive some horrible noise might escape her lips if she didn’t hold them shut.  She turned away, unable to watch as one of the security associates led the three away. 
How could they give up so easily?

The medical
manager
left, the second security associate at his heels.  The door slammed closed behind him,
locking with a loud
click
.

Virginia looked over at her new friends, grateful that both of them were above simply signing their lives away.  She had lost too much as of late, and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing anything more.

“I can’t believe they would just as soon kill us,” Emily said, her eyes still on the door.

“It’s probably less paperwork for them,” Olaf said.

Virginia nodded in agreement, then moved to
the
young woman on the floor.  She knelt down at the woman’s side, gently putting a hand on her shoulder.  “Hey . . . are you okay?
”

The woman was unresponsive, but alive.

The
door unlocked and
opened once more, this time with two nurse associates pushing a gurney.  Virginia backed away as the nurse associates charged up to the fallen woman.  A security associate gruffly watched the door as the nurse associates picked up the woman, tossed her onto the gurney, and removed her from the room.  The
door locked with another jarring
click
, the room f
alling deathly
silent.

Virginia looked around, the empty beds suddenly adding a strange new ambiance to the room.  That the beds represented three, maybe four, dead people gave them almost a haunted feel, as if their spirits might rise up through their disheveled sheets and haunt the room from that day forward.  The absence of just four people, however, did relax the room in a way Virginia did not want to admit.  What had her world come to?  Her mind drifted back to thoughts of her family.  She had to stay strong if she ever wanted to see George and the kids again.  She was determined to see them again. 

Virginia looked up as the camera’s eye passed over her.  She wondered if a group of
research managers
in white coats was watching them, or if maybe the camera simply fed into a small, dark room where one or two low level associates of some kind stared at tiny screens and ate popcorn all day.

The camera panned to the other side of the room and Virginia turned to her friends.  She found it interesting that despite them, the other remaining patients, and the camera, she could still feel so alone.  She considered that everyone else in there probably felt the same.

Emily gathered up the cards and began to shuffle.  Virginia and Olaf both motioned that they weren’t in the mood to play, and so she set up a game of solitaire with a shrug.

Chapter Nine

SHELLEY
took the school shuttle past Housing to the exchange garage, where she found the direct
l
ine to the Food-Mart.  Finding herself bombarded with the bulk of her mother’s chores, Shelley held strong as she carried George’s debit card and the burlap grocery bags through the dense shuttle crowd.  Virginia
had
always
gone
shopping on Wednesdays, insisting that it was the best day of the week for all of the good sales, so Shelley too went on Wednesday.

She wore a surgical facemask and plastic gloves, as Corporate had issued a red alert.  She had gone shopping with Virginia before, to learn the process.  Still, entering Food Mart’s Grocery Division on her own for the first time was overwhelming.  The colossal establishment seemed much more crowded than usual.  Several lines of people wrapped around the different vending booths in confusing and erratic patterns.  People pushed their way past one another.  Music played over a loud speaker, helping to offset the noise created by so many people trying to speak over one another at once.  Occasionally
,
the music would pause and a pleasant voice would take over the speaker to announce overstock specials, news associate locations, and random Corporate pearls of wisdom.

“Attention
,
Food-Mart customers,” the voice announced.  “For today only, the canned meat
product
booth is having a buy three, get one free sale (limit two free items).  And remember, a hard worker is a happy worker.  Thank you for shopping at Food-Mart.”

Shelley pulled her list from her bag, struggling to orient herself as panic threatened to freeze her where she stood.  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began to look over the items on her list, which she had listed by booth.  Virginia had taught her always to go to the inner booths first, leaving the outer booths for last in case a rush came in.  Shelley got in line for the soaps booth, as the family needed shampoo and would soon run out of dishwashing detergent.

Food-Mart’s Grocery Division was comprised of three dozen large booths, each set with a particular type of inventory.  The booths were each manned by four to six cashier associates, and they consisted of deep, open-backed shelves and bins from which the associates could pull the requested items.  On the other side was a small warehouse, where stock associates would keep a steady line of product coming as quickly as the cashier associates could pull it.  The cashier associates wore bright red polo shirts with the words “Food-Mart” printed above their nametags, and khaki pants.  The booths each stood at roughly the same size.  The uniformity within the massive room was almost dizzying, almost like standing in the center of a very crowded house of mirrors.  Shelley found that it brought out the claustrophobic in her.

“Attention
,
Food-Mart customers: a news associate in Area Three will be beginning broadcast in five minutes,” the voice on the intercom reported, and then happily added: “Don’t forget the face-masks when you stop by our health and beauty booth
.  T
wo-packs are on sale right now for only ten ninety-nine.  Thank you for being a Food-Mart shopper!”