Sarcophagus/Asparagus

Chad rolls the case with Zandra inside toward the lounge with the grace of a concussed sewer rat. Bexley rolls a second case behind him, this one still locked and much heavier.

Inside the case, Zandra uses the sound of rolling wheels to cover her twisting and turning to find a comfortable position. Such a contortion doesn't exist, but giving her chest an extra inch to breathe keeps the panic down. Despite knowing fresh air is only an unlocked latch away, the darkness and hot air feels suffocating.

It'll be worth it. All Chad needs to do is roll the case to the stairs that lead to the upper level. Bexley rolls the bigger case to block the view of me getting out. I need one more look at Aaron on the upper level. It won't take long. Then I make my move.

After a cigarette, of course.

Through the foam, Zandra hears the muffled murmurs of the attendees as the cases roll into the lounge.

Demos are over. Must be time for lunch and networking. Not ideal, but that's why I'm in this case.

One voice breaks out from the conversation and approaches. Both cases slow to a stop.

"What do you think you're doing with those?" Ivy says, presumably to Chad and Bexley.

Don't stop to talk. Keep going. You can walk and talk at the same time, can't you? Think on your feet.

Chad takes a moment to think and then says, "Hey, Bex, what are we doing with these things again?"

A punt worthy of professional football, Chad. Just brilliant.

"The captain guy told us to bring these out of storage," Bexley says to Ivy.

Not great, but better.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Captain Mel says, suddenly joining the conversation. "I never told you that."

Chad counters with, "Yeah, actually, you did."

Zandra feels the top of the case she's inside cave inward ever so slightly.

"Take this back to where you got them. Now," Captain Mel says. His voice sounds only inches away from Zandra.

Because it is.

He's leaning on the case.

Zandra sucks in a cough.

Getting stuffy in here.

"Did you say the captain? I think you meant the cash guy," Bexley says to Chad. Even from inside the case, Zandra can hear the lie in her voice. So does everyone else.

Chad snaps his fingers and says, "Oh, yeah. It was the cash preacher."

Rev. Cash must be nearby. He chimes in next. "For heaven's sake, I didn't tell you to go get no cases or nothing."

So much for being discreet. Why don't we invite the rest of the boat over while we're at it?

"Look, I'm not supposed to tell you this, but these cases have something really important inside," Chad says.

"You don't know what you're talking about. Put them back," Captain Mel says.

There's a knock on the side of Zandra's case. She can't help but flinch. The foam does a good job of covering her reaction, but Zandra can't be positive no one heard her jolt.

"What's in these anyway?" Ivy says.

Bexley and Chad don't respond.

"Captain?" Ivy says.

"Audio equipment," Captain Mel says. "Real expensive, too."

"There's going to be a band. I think it's a surprise. Don't tell anyone," Chad says.

Ivy clears her throat. "That is indeed a surprise, even to me."

"Keep it a surprise," Bexley says with a whisper and a wink.

This might actually work.

"I'm not in the mood for more surprises today," Ivy says. "Open the cases up."

OK, maybe it won't.

Jade steps into the conversation next, because the sight of two rolling speaker cases is too much to resist. "Did someone say a band is coming?"

"A band? I love music," pDano® says from across the lounge.

"Quiet," Ivy says to Jade. "Help me open this."

Oh, shit.

Ivy reaches down, grabs the latch, and tugs. And tugs again.

OK, good. She tried the other case.

"It's locked," Ivy says. "Do you have the key?"

"No, I thought you did," Bexley says.

"Why would I have the key?"

"I don't know. Ask Chad."

"Nah, I don't have the key," Chad says. Then to Captain Mel, "Do you?"

Captain Mel slams a fist down onto Zandra's case. The force of the impact nearly collides with Zandra's head.

Saved by the foam, but just barely.

"Enough!" Captain Mel says.

The entire lounge goes silent.

Captain Mel looks around at the faces staring at him.

"I...I'm sorry, it's...," he says, stammering. "It's been a stressful day."

Ivy ushers Chad and Bexley away from the cases. Turning to Jade, she says, "Push these cases over by the stairs to the upper level. No one's supposed to go up there anyway."

Perfect.

Captain Mel slinks away as the lounge resumes lunch. Bexley veers off toward Cherry Peach while Chad spills a bowl of ranch dressing on the floor.

Jade wheels Zandra's case to the stairs first. A minute later, Zandra hears the second, locked case come to a stop beside her.

Now all I need is Bexley or Chad to come let me out of here. This thing latches from the outside.

Lunch, however, takes higher precedence. Zandra listens to Chad and Bexley talk between bites of food mere feet away from the cases.

"I need a bowl and a nap," Chad says after polishing off a pyramid of mini tacos.

"Yeah, there's got to be a place to crash around here," Bexley says.

Fuck. They forgot me. Fucking braindead fucks.

Zandra lets loose the cough she was holding in, hoping one of them hears it. They don't. Zandra listens to them chug their pops, belch, and leave.

Ivy steps onto a chair to make an announcement. "Your attention, please. Now that lunch is done, we're going to move the networking into the conference rooms. Also, my apologies for running out of asparagus. I didn't realize it would be such a hit."

Zandra listens to the lounge grow quieter as everyone leaves.

Everyone except me. I've got to get out of this thing.

With the utmost care not to cut herself in the cramped conditions, Zandra draws the lawnmower knife from up her sleeve. There's no way the knife can cut through the walls of the case, but there is something it may be able to do.

Zandra feels for the crease where the lid of the case meets the rest of the frame. After pawing through the foam, she finds the horizontal indentation of the crease. Using her free fingers as a guide, she slices the foam away to provide easier access to the crease.

The two latches holding the lid in place are offset 12 inches or so from either side of the case. They're unlocked, so they should open without much effort if pushed from the inside.

How do I know about the 12-inch offset? Because when you crawl into a sarcophagus with Chad and Bexley as your means of rescue, you come up with a plan B whether you think you need it or not.

Zandra pushes the lawnmower knife into the crease. It's tight, but the tip pokes through a couple inches to the outside. She wiggles the knife down the crease until she hits resistance.

That's the first lock.

She marks the lock with her finger, backs the knife out, moves her finger away, and jams the knife tip into the lock. The lock pops open. Her smile lights up the dark interior.

Getting hard to breathe in here, though. Need to hurry.

Zandra repeats the process for the second lock. This time, the lock doesn't pop open. She backs the knife out and tries again. The lock still won't budge.

The hot, humid air inside the case taxes Zandra's breathing. She drives the knife into the crease near the first lock and twists. A sliver of fresh air rushes in.

That's better.

Zandra gets ready to try the second lock once again. That's when she hears someone collecting dishes outside. That someone seems to have heard Zandra, too. The second lock opens without any help from the lawnmower knife. The lid opens, and a baffled crew member looks down at Zandra.

"Not a word," Zandra says, squinting hard as her eyes readjust to light. She holds the lawnmower knife out in front of her. "Not one fucking word."

The crew member backs away from the case as Zandra crawls out. It feels good to stretch. Even her bad ankle doesn't complain.

"Don't look at me. Do your job," Zandra says to the crew member.

The crew member nods and heads to the far side of the lounge to bus dishes.

Zandra heads up the stairs. The sun on the upper level warms her sore joints. The welcome from the crew member with the broom is less so.

"You were told you can't be up here," the crew member says, wielding the broom toward Zandra like a joust.

Zandra, lawnmower knife still in hand, isn't impressed. "I was told to tell you to fuck off downstairs and help with the dishes."

"I don't do dishes," the crew member says.

"You do today," Zandra says and lights a cigarette with her free hand.

The crew member tosses the broom to the side and grumbles down the stairs. Zandra waits until she's alone on the upper level to approach Aaron's body. It only takes her a second to spot what she came to see.

This answers everything.

Zandra finishes her cigarette and heads back downstairs.

Time to let everyone know what's really been going on.