the smuggler’s bible


Colette slaps the button that starts the red lights and the siren, then swivels to pull the lever that controls the metal jaws at the end of the package chute. There is a rumbling far back in the walls from the direction of the silo.

“Hear that?” she says to the trainee. “That’s the good noise. If you hear the bad noise, there’s a jam.”

“What’s the bad noise sound like?” The trainee’s voice is hushed.

Colette sips her coffee and watches the trucks file along. “Good men dying,” she says, “under a whole hell of a lot of cardboard.”