Ben cut off his truck, then sat there for a moment, staring at the gate. No carbox sat there now; it sat waiting for him to decide which to call. He could simply call up an empty box and put his truck in it, then walk the two blocks home. Just like any other night.
But then what would happen to the girl? Eventually her box would be opened, and someone would find her. That box could be traced back to his account; he was the last to use it. And eventually his wife would see that he was paying for two boxes. Two boxes, one truck. Questions would be asked. Not getting involved was no longer an option.
How involved did he want to get? The supplies laid out on his seat said he was getting in over his head. And as soon as he called that box to him, there would be no going back. He took a deep breath and waved his transponder, calling up a box.
PART FOUR
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