The voice coming from Cart #06 sounded so real that it made Julian Vance’s lungs seize.
“Julian? It is so cold in here...”
The weeping was muffled by thick vulcanized rubber, but every inflection, every tiny hitch of breath, was the exact sound of his sister Clara Vance crying in the dark.
“I can’t breathe through the tarp, Julian... The frost is on my chest... Please, unhook the zipper! Put my heart on the scale before eleven o’clock!”
Shift 08, 03:42:25 AM (Real-World Standard Time: 10:57:25 PM).
Beside Julian’s right hand, the Zebra GX420t printer chattered like a machine gun.
Bzzt-clack-bzzt!
The red-bordered paper strip spewed out another four inches of wet, crimson-inked text, curling against the steel face of Hoist Register #0-H:
