"Excuse me?" A soft voice speaks up from the back of an unmarked vehicle. "Could you turn the radio up? This is one of my favorites."

The driver, surprised by the request, does so. It's 'Live and Let Die' by the Wings, and he turns it up just in time for the guitars to come in full throttle. The young girl in the back of his car smiles sweetly, and begins to hum and bob her head around to the music. 

He already was uncomfortable with this job, but in one moment a task became a human, and he can't help but feel uneasy. After all, he's ferrying this girl to her death.

The song plays out, the classics station changes tracks, and the driver turns it down once more. "Fan of the oldies, huh?"

"I guess. I like all kinds of music, but I suppose I'm nostalgic tonight." She whispers out, as if she barely has the strength to speak. The driver can't help but look in the mirror. She's thin for sure, and pale too, but shouldn't sound that weak.

"Nostalgic? No offense ma'am, but you seem a bit young for that." He chuckles awkwardly. She returns it a bit more genuinely.

"Well yeah, but...my dad was a fan of old rock. Used to play it every weekend, when we'd be cleaning the house, or the yard, or the garage. It's been a while...since I've wanted to listen to that kind of music. Guess this kind of occasion will do that to someone."

"So, you know what's going to happen?"

She nods slowly, but with an eerily positive smile. "I'm going to die."

"And...you're okay with that?"

"Hmm. As okay as someone can be, I guess? Truth be told, I've been wanting to die for a while. Not enough to attempt, but each day getting weaker, getting more forgetful, it feels like losing myself. And this way is better than most."

"If you ask me, no way is better than another. Same end, regardless."

She laughs again, somehow. "That's a morbid outlook on it. Miss Queenie said this'll be painless, and will help so many others."

"Really? Help others?" He shudders to ask.

"Yep. Despite everything that's plagued me, my blood cells have a unique strain to them, one that can be researched and used to help other people like me. Best of all...she helped me set up a real good insurance policy. My folks will finally get something worthwhile from me."

"Don't talk like that. Illness or not, a child's love is the only thing a parent needs." He unintentionally barks. He's not usually this talkative with these jobs, but...

"Are...you a parent?" This particular trip was hitting too close to home for the driver.

"I...I am. Sorry I shouldn't say much else."

"That's okay. You seem like a nice guy. I bet they can tell you love them a lot. Mine...they did their best. They just weren't prepared for me. A part of me hates what it turned into, the guilt and the shame, but...it's their first time living too, isn't it?"

"That's no excuse, in my eyes. When you sign up to have a kid, you're signing up for every which way life can take you and them. Sure, doesn't mean it's easy, or that we're exempt from failing. But...no parent should ever make their kid feel ashamed of living. Is that...is that why you're so willing to die?"

She has to think for a second. "No...no not really. When I was younger, all I wanted was to get better and pay them back. But...that's never going to happen. So, this is the next best thing."

"And why not? I mean, if they found what makes your blood so unique, can't they use that to help you rather than...than..." He can't bring himself to say it.

"Because they need to take a lot to properly study it, more than I can survive. And I'm okay with that. I got to finish high school, had a great prom dance, had my first kiss, had all my favorite meals and even saw the sun rise this morning. So, I get to go to sleep knowing I won't hurt anyone else, and get to help so many more." She makes it sound so beautiful, but to the driver it sounds like how you treat a dog before you put it down.

"What if you didn't have to die?" He asks before thinking. "If you lived past tonight, would you still want to try to live? Try to get better?"

The girl is silent for a bit. "I guess." She doesn't sound convinced. "I wouldn't waste away. I was taught not to be lazy. But, let's face facts, mister driver. No one wants that for me, not anymore." She chokes the sound of a sob down like something rotten.

"That's not true, someone has to-" His words are interrupted by a light through the windshield. He's made this trip so many times, they have arrived before he even noticed.

What makes this time any different from the others? Because it's some young girl? Because she seems so happy? Because she looks like...

The light moves and it's owner taps on the window, as he rolls it down nearly on command. It would be so easy to get out of here, to slam on the gas or put it in reverse, and tell her that someone wants her to live, that he wants a kid like her to live.

"Is the package undamaged?" The attendant asks.

"She's safe, yeah. What does it matter to you all anyway?"

"Is there a problem, sir? You seem...agitated."

The driver doesn't respond. Instead, he begins to fiddle with the gear shift.

"That wouldn't be a good idea." The attendant says, catching on quickly.

"Here's a good idea then, how about you go fuck yourse-"

A moment of darkness passes, and suddenly the man finds himself inside the complex, standing in the hallway in front of a conference room of some kind. The girl is walking away from him, white dress flowing from the movement, and she turns back with that gentle, pained smile and waves goodbye.

"Say goodbye to the nice girl." The attendant says, and the driver's body moves on command, unable to do anything else. His mind would scream, but...he should know better.

The waving stops, the girl turns away once more, and the warm light of the conference room washes over her body, as a dozen ravenous mouths await her arrival.

And the door shuts with finality.