[Introduction]
Narrator: Are you listening? Good. This is not a podcast. This is not an audiobook. This is a dimensional experience set in the unseen realms to your left, your right, and all that lingers between (between, between). We ask that you put on headphones if possible. Use caution during your journey and always—

Listen carefully.

[Sounds of cars and trucks whizzing by fade into a slow, thudding alternative rock score]

QCODE presents "Carrier", starring Cynthia Erivo.
Written and directed by Dan Blank.

[The final twangs of the guitar fade back to sounds of cars and trucks whizzing by]

[Sounds of CB radio crackling on; different voices, each with a Southern accent, come on as the truckers speak to one anotherr]

Trucker #1: I'm sorry, I just don't see what Russia has to do with any of this.

[Sound of static as the speaker switches]

Trucker #2: [Country music playing faintly in the background] Then maybe we should turn off the flow of news, and pay attention to history for a change! This whole crisis began when we started sellin' our grain to the Soviets. Increased farming led to higher land values and lower interest rates. Then, a Cold War comes along and the Gipper decides, "Gee! Maybe we shouldn't be sellin' our grape nuts to Mr. Gorbachev! So, property values nosedive. The banks foreclose on old MacDonald, and that's when these beings start snatchin' up farmland for themselves on the cheap!

Trucker #1: [Chuckling] Right, to grow corn.

Trucker #2: Not corn, you sheep! A cereal grain resembling corn, to convert into high-fructose syrup for plumping up the masses for the rest of their species' arrival on this planet! Christ! What more do you need?

DeAndre:[Laughing] What on Earth are you listening to?
Ray: Just some CB. But I gotta' leave it on, just in case he tips me off to any bears on my front door.

Jamill: Whoah, there are bears?

[Ray and DeAndre both burst into laughter]

Malika: She means cops. They just call them bears.

DeAndre: Well, I don't want your mom running into either out there. [Ray chuckles] Are you sure you're gonna' be alright doing this?

Ray: You don't think I can handle myself?

DeAndre: No-I-look, listen, I mean, what if your dad was mixed up in something?

Ray: Like what, arms dealing? [laughs]

DeAndre: Hey, hey, hey, you're the one who said you were pickin' up from a farm, right, right? Now you didn't specify what they grow there.

Ray: Here we go, my seventy-year-old father the mule, right? [ DeAndre chuckles] Ok.

Malika: What's a mule?

DeAndre: It's what bears hunt. [Ray laughs] Hey, hey, hey, seriously, you still have that police scanner, right Ray?

Ray: Oh-all of you, e-e-enough! I'm gonna' be safe and sound at home before any of you even wake up! Maybe-maybe, if you're lucky, I'll even drive you to school.
Jamill: In the truck?

Ray: Would you like that?

Jamill: Yeah!

Malika: No! Mom, seriously! You cannot take that truck to school.

Ray: Oh-oh you watch me; I'm gonna' roll into that dropoff line, with all the other parents, and just sneak up behind one of those P.T.A. moms in her bougie S.U.V., and the second-the second I see her glancing down on her phone? You know what I'm gonna' do?

Malika: Mom, don't!

Ray: I'm gonna' give her a woo-woo! [She honks the horn loudly to laughter from Jamill and immediate crying from Malika]

DeAndre: Oh, hey, hey, hey, Malika, she just messin' with you! [Ray laughs heartily] Jesus, great, thank you, thank you, I really appreciate that Ray. Now I'm the one who has to lure her back here. [Silence] Ray? Ray, you s-Ray, you still there?

Ray: He-hey-hey sorry, I-I think I just-I think I just pulled up.

DeAndre: Everything cool?

Ray: Yeah...yeah, it's just I-it's just not what I was expecting.

Male worker: Can I help you?

Ray: Uh hi, I-I'm-I'm picking up?
Male worker: Ok, got your driver number?

Ray: Uh, 68306.

Male worker: Ok.

DeAndre: [Whispering] Ray, what is it?

Ray: Um, it's not a farm, not exactly, it's more...industrial, like...chemical refineries. Lot's of security.

[ Machinal noises]

Male worker: Ok, know where you're going?

Ray: Uh, not really.

Male worker: K, you're gonna' follow the service road along the greenhouses and turn right at the grain bin. You'll see the packing house.

Ray: Ok.

Male worker: Is that a dashcam?

Ray: Uh, yeah.

Male worker #1: Ok that's gotta' go off. Phones too.

Ray: You serious?

Male worker: Yeah.

Ray: U-uh-babe, I'll have to call you back once I'm on the road. Thanks! [Sounds of gears shifting and the truck driving on a dirt road] What the hell is this place?

[ Machinal noises]

Ray: 'Scuse me? Hey-hello?

Male worker #2: The hell are you doin' back here?

Ray: I-I'm pickin' up a trailer.

Male worker #2: Well, you're early. We're not even loading yet.

Ray: Well where should I go then?

Male worker #2: You're gonna' have to come back.

Ray: Oh-I'm not comin' back.

Male worker #2: I'm sorry, but who the fuck are you?

Male worker #3: Chef, Chef, that's e-that's enough. Are you Raylene?

Ray: Ray's fine. Mr. Caldwell?

Mr.Caldwell: Noah. I'm sorry, e-everybody's a little on edge tonight. A heat wave on top of harvest season isn't the best thing for morale.

Ray: Mm-hmm.

Mr.Caldwell: Why don't you throw it in park and come on inside, and we'll get your paperwork sorted out while Chef finishes loadin' you up.

Ray: Alright.

Mr.Caldwell: [Voice muffled] Lo-you-just focus on your job so she can get on the road. Grab the other boys to help. I-it-get-do what I'm tellin' you! Raylene? You gotta' jacket?

Ray: Uh, just a hoodie.

Mr.Caldwell: Good, you're liable to need it.

[ Machinal noises]

Mr.Caldwell: [Shouting over the noise of the machines] You alright? I should'a warned you about the cold room.

Ray: I'll be fine. Just might take me a minute.

Mr.Caldwell: Bouncin' between environments is a good way to catch pneumonia, but we have to keep pretty strict temperature controls around the products.

Ray: What do you grow here?

Mr.Caldwell: Depends on what Nevanto needs at the moment. This is one of their research farms, so we field test a lot of their agrochemical products. Right now, we got a few dozen acres of soybeans, squash, tomatoes, corn—

Ray: I see. Well-why's everyone wearing hazmat suits?

Mr.Caldwell: You a truck driver or reporter?

Ray: Just curious. Just curious.

Mr.Caldwell: Health code regulation. One lawsuit against the company and suddenly everybody needs to cover their keister. Ok, over this way. [Sound of door opening and closing; machinal sounds are muffled] Sorry, it's a little easier on the eardrums in here. Vending machine's over there, can I get you a coffee? Not a bad idea before an all-nighter.

Ray: Uh, yeah. Sure. Thanks.

Mr.Caldwell: Well ya' alright? You-you seem confused.

Ray: No, no-this just isn't the kind of farm I was expecting.

Mr.Caldwell: How's that?

Ray: Well-well to be honest, I assumed you'd be some small local grower who couldn't afford to deal with the fleet's overages, not some—

Mr.Caldwell: Multi-national conglomerate. Well, personally, I like to keep things a little more familial around here. With a fleet, you never know who they might dump on ya'. Your dad and I go way back.

Ray: Is that right?

Mr.Caldwell: Oh yeah. I used to make him swing by Elsie's barbecue every time he'd pass through Kansas city; always had to be sure he—

Ray: Asked for the burnt ends.

Mr.Caldwell: —for the burnt ends. [ both chuckle]

Ray: Yeah, he wouldn't shut up about that place. It's just-w-weird, he-he never mentioned havin' a dedicated route out here.

Mr.Caldwell: Well [ Coughs], when you logged as many miles as he had, maybe this just didn't seem that noteworthy. Or, maybe he just wanted to keep his fleet's hands off the triple-pay.

Ray: Triple? You pay $120 a mile for haulin' corn?

Mr.Caldwell: [ Coughs] $125. Plus, free coffee. Now, let's go get you that paperwork.

[Sound of truck running]

Mr.Caldwell: It's a tight schedule. You handoff to the receiver by 5:00 A.M., so you don't get too many pit stops. Also, you'll have to pulp the air and keep an eye on the temp gauge with this heatwave, and just don't let it get above 32.

Ray: 32. Cool, ok.

Mr.Caldwell: Now Pam here's gonna' get you sorted out with your B.O.L. Pam, this is Ms. Watts, she's gonna' be takin' over Chicago route tonight.

Pam: Wait, where-where's Earle—

Mr.Caldwell: Earle couldn't make it, but Ray here is damn good at what she does; a world-renowned produce hauler, ain't that right?

Ray: Uh-yeah, you bet.

Mr.Caldwell: Heh, let's hope so. Once Chef finishes loadin' he'll get you the S.L.C. info and your outbound way.

Ray: Oh-hold up, I-I don't get to inspect it first?

Mr.Caldwell: Well, for liability reasons, we bolt-seal all our trailers. Navento's policy. That's not gonna' be a problem, is it?

Ray: ...no. Not exactly.

Mr.Caldwell: You sure? Cause' Chef's got someone else that wants this load...

Ray: Hey, uh, drivers are paid to drive, right?

[Sounds of Ray getting into and starting the truck; sounds of machinery fade into a slow, languorous alternative-rock beat, with strains of country-twang drifting through; the music overlaps the sound of static-filled radio switching channels ]

Southern male speaker #1: And the more scholarly these climate scientists seem to be, the less they seem to have read the only book that matters. [Voice fades out to raucous applause]

[Channels switch ]

Southern female speaker: Rather than blaming governments or corporations, perhaps it's best to search within and ask, "What have we done in our lives, w-what have we permitted others to do in their lives, that we should be so deserving of God's wrath?"

[Channels switch ]

Southern male speaker #2: I think, if the end of times are, in fact, upon us, we should simply prepare ourselves, and our loved ones, to be bathed in the light of—

[Radio switches off]

Ray: Jesus! Enough already. [Phone buzzes] What the-Loretta? I'd figured you'd gone home for tonight.

Loretta: I'm lookin' at the map. Are you on the road?

Ray: Uh, yeah, why?

Loretta: I didn't wanna' leave you danglin' in the wind for another night. I know you're goin' through a lot right now, so I put out a few calls.

Ray: Y-ya' did?

Loretta: There's a bottling plant in K.C. with a freight to Milwaukee; it's not Chicago, but it gets ya' pretty close.

Ray: You really didn't have to do that.

Loretta: I had a meat-packer with a direct route, but you're just not qualified. They needed someone with experience pullin' a reefer trailer.

Ray: Oh, uh, right. Hey-that's all good.

Loretta: So, how quickly can ya' head back to Kansas City?

Ray: Um, I appreciate you lookin' out for me...I really do, but, uh, I may have a backhaul worked out already.

Loretta: Side gig?

Ray: Yeah.

Loretta: I see. Good for you, hon'. Just be careful with the rig, ok? Your dad's truck is still financed to the fleet, so if anything happens to it, they could reclaim the vehicle.

Ray: Oh, uh-a-alright. Um, I'll be careful. Uh-say-uh, uh, you know anything about liability on a preloaded trailer?

Loretta: Mmm, you got the shipper's load and count listed on the B.O.L., right?

Ray: Yeah, it's all there.

Loretta: Then you should be fine. [pauses] Ray, I hope you know what you're doin'.

Ray: [Chuckles] Yeah, me too. Night, Loretta.

Loretta: Ok.

[Sound of truck horn beeping loudly and incessantly]

Southern trucker: [Crackles through radio] You wanna' ride my caboose, friend? You be my guest, but ol' Hutch here, he knows every mile marker on these backcountry highways, and I'll wager there's a county-mountie with a laser lurkin' in those bushes. So you keep yankin' that horn like it's your manhood, but it ain't' gonna' get me one thin butt hair above fifty-five. [Beeping continues] If you go out son, don't say I didn't warn ya'!

[Sound of police siren appears]

Ray: Oh shit!

Hutch: [Cackles] Yep, tried to warn him. Young ones never wanna' listen to the old dog, but this ol' hound, he can sniff out a shit storm a mile away. [Cackles his gravelly laugh] How's your night treatin' you, driver? [Silence] I can see your lights back there! I know you're tuned in, otherwise, you'd a' joined our friend in receiving his drivin' award. [Silence] Look, I-I ain't tryin' to make a pass at ya' fella, but if you're eastbound on the thirty-six this late at night, I'm assumin' you're headin' to Chicago, same as me, but now that our hotdoggin' friend decided to feed the bears, you and me, we're gonna' be boogeyin' together for the next seven hours, so, you can either listen to me kibitz with the roadkill, or you can join the conversation. [Silence] Nah, [Chuckles] suits me fine; what kinda' rig ya' got back there? Wait-let me guess, size and spread of those lats, I'd wager a 2009 Freightliner Cascadia. Now, that's a good, reliable truck, but that's also a company vehicle, which means you're probably some brainless fleet jockey who lets his dispatcher tell him when and where he can take a piss! Huh, that about right, fella?

Ray: Close, but it's a 2008, you hee-hawin' motherfucker.

Hutch: Heh, ooh boy [chuckles], ma'am, I am about as red as a babboon's ass right now. I-I shouldn't've run my mouth off like that, I'm sure you have to put up with plenty of loudmouth S.O.B.'s on the road.

Ray: Whatever, man, it's all good. That you up ahead in that chicken hauler?

Hutch: Ya' must have night vision if you can see that far.

Ray: No, but judgin' from the amount of feathers I'm drivin' through, I'd say you're probably due for a new suspension.

Hutch: [Laughs raucously] Oh, I like you driver! [Both chuckle] Name's Hutch, glad to have you along for the ride.

[Sounds of trucks speeding down the highway]

Hutch: So how long you been pullin' for the fleet, driver?

Ray: Just a few months. This is temporary doe'.

Hutch: [Chuckles] Yeah, sure. Haven't heard that before.

Ray: No, really. I'm just helpin' out my dad for a bit.

Hutch: Oh! Family business?

Ray: Sorta'. We used to be team drivers.

Hutch: Well, isn't that just great. Yeah, I always say, family's the most important thing, ain't it? Especially in a life on the road.

Ray: Yeah, I hear that. Say, c-can I ask you somethin'? You ever hauled produce?

Hutch: Shoot, only for about five years, before I got a lock on the poultry racket.

Ray: You ever hear about someone bolt-sealing a shipment?

Hutch: Bolt-sealin'? Vegetables? Now why in the heck would somebody need to do that? Unless, they were haulin' more than just corn. A sealed trailer; now that could be anything. Drugs, plutonium, aliens...

Ray: I-I'm sorry, aliens?

Hutch: Illegals, I mean. Bolt-sealin', huh. Why do you ask?

Ray: I just-somethin' I heard about earlier on the CB.

Hutch: Sheesh, yeah, if I was in that poor chump's boots and they sealed my load before I could check it? I'd say, "Sorry bucko, no thank you, been there, done that, I got the T-shirts to prove it." [Chuckles, notices the silence] Driver, you ok? I see you fallin' behind back there.

Ray: Uh, uh-yeah, yeah, um, I'll catch up. Just need to get some personal things in order. Uh, lady stuff.

Hutch: A big 10-4 on that. I'll leave you to it. See ya' in the next state.

[Sound of phone ringing]

Female Automated Voice: Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system. [Beeps]

Ray: Mr. Caldwell, uh, this is Raylene Watts, um, listen, I'm-I'm just outside of Hannibal, just about to cross the bridge into Illinois, um, uh, I'm really-I'm-I'm really sorry to do this but, uh, it's-it's probably just me, but I'm a little concerned about what I might be transporting and I-I-I think you mentioned having someone else lined up who wanted to take this job and-and I-I uh...[Sound of another call coming in] Terrell?

Terrell: Ray? Ray, can you hear me?

Ray: Where are you?

Terrell: The E.R. It's dad, he-he isn't—

Ray: Terrell, you need to calm down, what happened?

Terrell: Oh, I don't know! No one knows, he just blacked out, they can't get him back! Ray, they askin' me all types of questions and I don't know what to do! I-what am I supposed to do?

Ray: Ok, ok! Just breathe, it's ok.

Terrell: How far-how far are you? I'll pay for fuel, whatever you need, just please, please! I can't do this alone Ray.

Ray: It's ok, it's ok shug'! It's gonna' be ok. I'm-I'm on the road, I'll be there in a few hours. Ok.

[Sound of truck starting fades into the slow, thudding alternative-rock score]

Narrator: "Carrier". Starring Cynthia Erivo as Raylene Watts. Written, directed, and edited by Dan Blank. Produced by Rob Herting, David Henning, Brian Kavanaugh-Jones, Fred Berger, Cynthia Erivo. Recorded, mixed, and masterd by SALTAUDIO. With performances by Steve Howey, Dale Dickey, Joel McKinnon Miller, Lamorne Morris, Byron Bowers, Chris Ellis, Robert Longstreet, Oliver Cooper, Dan Blank, Perry Mattfeld, Nate Torrence, Ashley Basara, Sydney Thomas, Jasaii Curtis, Randee Heller, James Wellington, Lance Reddick, Sheila Carrasco, and Elliott Gould. Original music and score by Jamie Schefman and Noah Gersh for SALTAUDIO. Sound design by Sam Plecner. Dimensional audio design by SALTAUDIO and Dan Blank. Associate Producer Tess Ryan. Script Supervision by Sam Beesley. Casting by Chelsea Bloch and Marisol Roncali at Atomic Honey. Additional country music by Mister Paradise. Blues harmonica performances by Chef de Bosierre. Recorded at Todd-AO Studios. [Wet, crunching sound] If you're a fan of this show, check out our "Carrier" store, where you can find "Carrier" artwork, T-shirts, hoodies, hats, and more. All available at QCODEmedia.com/Carrier.