Working On the Weekend

Chapter 13 - We are Friends, not Food

It's a dirt trail to the Agriculture Lab. They cannot shake the feeling of impending doom. It doesn't help that the crew had seen a dead body and worse, it's at night. With the lab ahead of them, they pick up the pace and try to file inside at the same time once the wooden door was opened. The light drizzle of rain quickly turns into a thunderous downpour.

Great.

The main entrance leads newcomers straight into the greenhouse. Its vibrant green seedlings that once glistened with morning dew had turned into cold deep green jungle weed. The pretentious sunlight blubs directly above did nothing to soften their looks. The gang huddled in front of the door. Alex shone her flashlight at the plants that did not have a light shining directly atop them.

"Please don't that," Dakota pushes the flash to face at the ground, "It'll ruin the experiment."

"Sorry." Alex keeps the light facing the floor. "What'll happen to it?"

"I don't know, it's not my project." Dakota tells her.

The crew follows the centre pathway of the indoor jungle, where an identical metal door like the one they passed through stands at the end. A few steps inwards, they begin to hear scratching noises and the jingling of metal. They pause their stride to listen, and it's soon followed by a few clucks to which the group collectively sigh in relief to themselves.

On the ground, near the other end of the greenhouse, an octagonal metal chicken coop stood

"So cute." Alex coos at them as Joseph mouths to the chickens I'll curry you.

Once they arrive at the end of the greenhouse, in front of them a metal door stands. It leads into the classroom laboratory and is centered so that it can face the main entrance. To the right is a metal door marked 'AG Stock Room'.

"It's really stuffy and claustrophobic in there now that the outside door is closed." Curtis warns his co-worker. Keith could deal with many things but he has what he considers – an aversion to small spaces. Other people, such as doctors and psychiatrists, would call it claustrophobia. But Keith doesn't have claustrophobia. He just doesn't like standing in small spaces cause he feels like the air supply would run out, the walls are closing in on him and he'd feel frozen and helpless as though he was in a coffin.

Definitely not Claustrophobia.

Keith nods, handing over his keys, "Get as much as you can carry."

Curtis announces to the group, "I'll check the Stockroom. Boys, why don't you come help me carry some things?"

Keith sees a bag of feed leaning against a counter and stalks over to it.

"Might as well feed the animals one time. No sense they starve." Keith skirts around the chicken pen, heading towards the cupboard. He moves the bag of new feed and opens the door. He pulls out a smaller container of feed and scatters it in the open octagon fence.

"How'd you know that was there?" Vai asks, knowing that Keith is usually hiding in his office or hiding in the staff room.

"We reared animals too. I know when there's a new bag of feed unopened, there's probably an almost finished one somewhere."

The chicken pen was shaped into an octagon and covered at the top so that the chickens could not jump out. Keith looks around for the rabbits... rabbit*, as it's down to the last one. The bunny sits in his cage where the bottom held tired old wood shavings and newspaper caked in its own Cocoa Puffs.

Curtis walks out of the stockroom area holding a long but extremely rusted down, weathered pair of metal shears. "Where are the baby bunnies? I saw some last week. They finally have some fluff on them and they're so cute." He gushes until he sets eyes on his fuzzy nemesis, "I'm only seeing this thing." He motions to the gigantic rabbit in the cage, "For those of you who don't know this is Brutus."