The Roman Lee Series "Crimson Rows" .... The Match.......

THE ROMAN LEE SERIES

 

"CRIMSON ROWS"

 

 

Twenty-Seven

1:30PM

The speeding ticket was held by a Starbucks magnet to the refrigerator in the one bedroom apartment.  Instructions on the back were either to pay the required fine for the civil infraction or make an appearance before the magistrate to plead her case. A decision had to be made soon because failure to do so would result in a bench warrant.  As a redshirt freshmen on the University basketball team Brandi Jones had overslept one morning making her late for an early practice.

Only a mile away from the Huron fieldhouse she didn’t see the Kirkwood Patrol unit until it was too late.  He had been parked in between a pair of used cars for sale on a vacant lot.  The officer had pulled out of the space closing the distance on her within a quarter mile turning on his lights.  Stopped for exceeding the posted speed limit by 20 mph the patrolman gave her a break by only writing the citation for 5 miles over.  Thankful for the generosity of not ticketing her for reckless driving the fine still remained imposing at $125 for a freshman athlete who did not work.  Brandi’s stern warning from her parents on countless occasions regarding her lead foot had seemed to have served as some prophetic warning.  The constant nagging during her probationary period before she obtained her license was always a source of contention.  Stubborn and independent she had chosen to live on her own off campus despite her parents recommendation to reside in the first year suites.  Consistently on a rigid budget the recent added expense might derail her plans to live on her own.  Her pride would not allow her parents to have a told you so moment. 

The UPC or the United Plasma Collection center was extremely busy mid-day.  First time donors stood in a line waiting for the representative to greet them.  Brandi checked her phone displaying the time.  Her only class of the day didn’t start until 6:00 PM and practice was cancelled giving her the opportunity to come across town. Brandi had planned on meeting a friend from her statistics course who gave her the idea in the first place.  He bailed on her at the last minute when he discovered that he couldn’t retrieve his term paper from the cloud and was in a full panic having not backed it up anywhere.  A quick text told her that she shouldn’t worry about anything.  In fact, the next time he planned on donating his roommates all intended on doing it to intensify the effects of alcohol they had planned on consuming at a party next week.  As she was about to reply to his text she was called to the counter.  A woman in her late twenties with auburn hair and blue eyes greeted her.

“Welcome to UPC.  This your first time donating with us?”

“Yes”

“Do you have valid identification with you?”

“I do one second.”

Brandi reached into her purse pulling out her driver’s license along with her social security card.

“Thank you.”

All of her information was entered into the system creating an account.  Payments would be credited once a successful donation had been completed.  It was suggested that she schedule a follow up appointment within seven days from the first one.

“Ok, if you will go over to the kiosks that are lined up against the wall and login using this default password and then change it after you answer all the questions.  Once you’re finished a health representative will come and get you for a quick screening.”

It wasn’t long and Brandi was seated in front of another smiling face.  Although the attire was somewhat unsettling.  They wore a plastic shield that covered the entire face.  A long white lab coat and purple latex gloves that extended to their elbows.

“Are you right handed or left?”

“Left”

“Can I see your right hand please.”

The tech rotated Brandi’s hand so that her palm was facing upward.  A swab of alcohol was quickly rubbed against the tip of her index finger.  As soon as the plastic end of the device was placed against her skin the spring exploded propelling a small lance penetrating deep enough to draw blood.  A pipette was angled against the wound to collect a sample for testing her iron levels.  She watched as her sample was placed in a solution.  Satisfied that her iron levels met the minimum standard for donation she was led over to a row of reclining comfortable looking chairs.  Several donors occupied most of them in various stages of the process.  Most were looking at their phones or watching a popular talk show on the large flat screen.  After the needle had been inserted into her vein Brandi watched the blood retreat from her arm in the tube leading to the machine that would separate the plasma eventually returning it mixed with a room temperature saline solution.

“This your first- time donating honey?”

A woman in her thirties sat next to Brandi looking to be almost complete with the process.  She was wearing black yoga pants and a white hoodie.  Several empty holes in her earlobes indicated multiple piercings that were being given a respite for the day from holding additional weight.

“I almost didn’t come in today.  My friend cancelled on me at the last minute.”

“Once you do it the first time it’s nothing after that.  I can usually get out of here in an hour.”

“Is that normal?”

“Everyone is different.  My first time in here took me about two hours.  I have small veins and my iron level was questionable.  Once they find a good vein you’re all set.  I needed to donate today to get money for my electric bill.  Those bastards were going to shut me off for $40.  I had kept all my arrangements until my ex didn’t pay his child support last week.  What about you?”

“Speeding ticket.”

“How fast?”

“About 20 mph over.”

“Did he write you for the whole thing?”

“Actually, he cut me a break only five over.”

“Nice guy.”

“Still over a hundred dollars for the ticket.”

“Ouch.”

“So, you go to school or work?”

“School at Huron University, I was late for practice.”

“You play sports?”

“Basketball, on the women’s team.”

“Nice, I played in grade school but didn’t like practices so I quit, wished I would have kept with it.”

A man in his early twenties walked over to them.  Wearing light blue hospital smocks he had dark wavy hair and brown eyes.  He had strong features with a distinct jawline flashing a bright smile at both of them.

Adjusting his purple latex gloves he took care of Brandi’s neighbor bandaging her arm.

“You’re all set.”

Looking at his tablet he scrolled down stopping at Brandi’s profile.

“Brandi, a very pretty name.  The plasma has been separated from your blood that we borrowed. Now were going to give it back to you.  We use a saline solution mixed in at room temperature so it may be a little cold when it enters back into your arm.”

“Ok.”

She watched as the machine reversed the order of its business returning her blood back thru the large clear tube. Slightly concerned she quickly called out before he got too far away.”

“Hey.  Quick question.”

“Yes?”

“My blood supposed to be that light color?”

“No worries.  Perfectly normal.  I’ll be right back.”

Brandi felt her arm.  It was cold to the touch as the saline mixed cells entered her bloodstream.  The whole process until now felt no different when she donated during the Red Cross Blood drive at her High School during her senior year.  Except the last part of it creeped her out slightly.

Jorje went to a supply closet closing the door behind him. Placing his tablet on a shelf next to a roll of gauze he pulled out his smartphone.  Scrolling to his text group he quickly sent a message.  They had the match that they were looking for.  Jorje was only to target the transients because the odds were in their favor that no one would look for them once they had gone missing. But they were not lasting long enough for the farm.  The homeless were usually unhealthy because of poor diets along with their propensity for drinking heavily.  Brandi Jones was the best candidate that would serve the dual purpose placed before them.  Except for the recent incident almost all of the previous farm donors had been disposed of at a place called Devil’s Lake.

Having gone only once out to the lake to help Jorje vowed to himself he would never go again.  Rowing out to the middle of the waveless lake they dumped the wrapped body over the side of the aluminum boat.  The water greedily drank the corpse into its depths as though it yearned to be fed.  Upon watching something so unnatural Jorje gripped the sides of the boat demanding they row like hell to reach the boat launch. His accomplices for the nights disposal took pleasure in his fear rocking the boat violently.  After the boat scraped the concrete slope on shore Jorje jumped out running to the car refusing to get near the water or help with the boat.

Multiple blank captions appeared before texts began filling Jorje’s screen. 

“You sure a match?”

“Allelle 100% and recessive trait.  Statistical Anomaly.”

“In return process now?”

“Yes”

“Dosage administered?”

Injecting the beta blocker into the saline solution was relatively easy and unnoticeable.  Jorje always carried it on him in case they were lucky enough to get a match.  The mixture caused momentary fainting in its intended victim by slowing down the heartbeat lowering their blood pressure to reach the threshold of a syncopic episode.  A short period of unconsciousness allowed them the opportunity to get their donor through the back doors into the awaiting van.  Time was limited so a coordinated effort was needed in order to succeed.

“All set.  We have just a few minutes until the process is complete.”

“Everything is ready here.  Make sure there are no mistakes.  You need to execute this with perfection understand?”

“I flirted with her a bit so she is relaxed.”

“Parking the van near the door now.”

Watching he last of Jackie’s blood return Jorje powered down the centrifuge with the plasmapheresis process now complete.  Looking into his eyes she smiled shyly.  He slowly withdrew the needle placing a square piece of gauze on top of the wound holding it there applying the right amount of pressure with his thumb. Gently he wrapped just below the bicep area.  Taking her opposite hand he placed it underneath the bandage asking her to elevate it for a moment.

“Ok, Ms. Brandi Jones you are all set.  Your deposit should be in your account.  Remember to go online and schedule another donation in the next 5 to 7 days.”

After standing up something didn’t feel right. Brandi started to perspire feeling very warm.  She remembered reading about a possible effect of donating but had dismissed it entirely.  The room became unsteady as though one side of the floor was pulling her down.  Closing her eyes momentarily to regain her bearings did little good making it worse.  Jorje had started to prep the machine keeping a watchful eye on her the whole time waiting for the exact moment to catch her.  Quickly he moved towards her helping her to a recovery room near the back.  Almost no one had paid any attention to the events that had unfolded.

The back door was opened slightly allowing the natural sunlight in to mix with the artificial.  They placed her inside strapping her down on the gurney and shut the windowless doors.  The black Ford cargo van with its bright green UPC logo drove off with their most valuable donor.