It was 5:30 p.m. Dr. Kane was only half an hour from the meeting location, having accessed the location pin as instructed.
He had the habit of letting his radio play in the background on long drives. He used to listen to the vintage music Mama had played.
Lately though, it wasn’t so relaxing. His favorite station had started airing tense talk shows instead of music. He had turned it off earlier when their topic caught his attention:
“Sources tell us the governor has activated two National Guard units ‘as a precaution.’ State officials won’t comment, but leaked memos cite concerns about ‘community polarization—”
He followed the news at home, but not while driving. He wanted calm, especially tonight.
They arrived in three separate vehicles. Jeff rode with Bird, while Tamika drove alone.
As they crossed the gravel toward the building, Dr. Kane took in the structure: an abandoned factory at first glance, a broad concrete block that looked lifeless, yet oddly well‑kept. Nothing about the exterior hinted at activity. No machinery. No scent of chemicals, steel, plastic. Not even sawdust. The air was clean, almost sterile. Wrong for a place that should have smelled like work. The complex was isolated and surrounded by long stretches of grass. Even their phones had lost signal halfway through the journey. They had followed miles of unmarked, crumbling roads to reach it.
Tamika squinted. “There are no windows. That’s strange.”
A sharp squeal split the air. Kane’s heart kicked. Tamika grabbed Jeff’s arm. They all froze, until they realized it wasn’t a scream. It was the groan of a rusted white door lifting itself open, slow and deliberate, beckoning them inside.
“So no one’s gonna come meet us?” Tamika said, quickly letting go of Jeff. “We’re just supposed to walk in because the door opened? I think we should wait out here and let them come get us.”
“It’s okay,” Dr. Kane said. “We were invited. Our host is a bit—”
“Creepy,” Jeff supplied.
“Eccentric,” Kane corrected. “He’s expecting us.”
He stepped forward first. The others followed.
* * *
The interior smelled damp, like a space sealed shut for months. Dim lights cast a muted glow across the room. There was a potent stillness. The room was empty except for a man standing near the center beside a lone desk. He stood perfectly still as they approached.
“Dr. Kane. Jeff. Tamika. Bird. I am Mr. Zhang. Mr. Chen is expecting you.”
The team didn’t react; they assumed Kane had given their names. Kane hadn’t confirmed his team selection to anyone. He hadn’t spoken to Mr. Chen since their first meeting. The fact that Zhang knew them unsettled him more than he let show.
“Before we go,” Mr. Zhang continued, “I need you to answer three routine questions.
First: do you agree to keep everything you learn here private and confidential?”
“What, do we need to sign an NDA?” Jeff asked.
“An NDA won’t be necessary, Mr. Caldwell. Your word is binding.”
Zhang paused, letting the silence stretch. “I’ll need verbal confirmation before we proceed.”
Their voices echoed one by one: “Yes.”
“Second,” Zhang said, “Mr. Chen wishes it made clear that you may change your minds at any time… but once the payment is accepted, you won’t have that option. The project must be seen through to its end. Do you understand these terms?”
“Payment?” Jeff brightened. “Dude, that’s all you had to say. I’m in.”
“So am I,” Tamika said, then shot Kane a grin. “You holding out on us, Dr. Kane?”
Bird and Kane added their agreement.
“Good,” Zhang said. “Finally, do you agree to be blindfolded as we travel to our location?”
A sudden pressure sat at the base of Kane’s skull.
“Can I have a moment with my team before we answer that?”
“Of course.” Zhang nodded, his expression pleasant and completely unreadable.
Dr. Kane pulled his team aside.
“I didn’t tell you about the pay,” he admitted. “I wanted to be sure you’re here because you want to be. I won’t hold it against anyone if you leave now. Truth is, I don’t fully know what this is. I don’t want to put anyone in danger.”
“How dangerous could an academic project be?” Jeff said, half joking. “It’s probably just a ton of work. I’m up for it, aren’t you?”
He looked around for agreement, but the words hung there, unanswered.
Kane exhaled. “All right. All in?”
He placed his hand in the center. Jeff’s hand landed on top of his immediately.
“Blindfolds though?” Tamika whispered, easing her hand onto the stack.
Bird was last.
The team rejoined Mr. Zhang.
“We’re all in,” Kane said.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Kane, but I need verbal confirmation from each of you.”
One by one, they answered.
Zhang opened the briefcase on the desk and lifted several large silk handkerchiefs. The team exchanged uneasy glances. He stepped forward, tying the red cloths securely over their eyes, checking each one with careful, deliberate precision.
* * *
A hand gripped Kane’s shoulder and guided him away. Footsteps echoed around him; more people now, joining the group. He expected to be led to a vehicle, so the shift in direction surprised him. Only a few paces later, he realized they had stopped inside what felt like an elevator.
It was unlike any elevator he had ever ridden. He was strapped upright, a wide belt cinched around his waist. He heard the others being fastened in too. He soon understood why.
The elevator lurched into motion, zigzagging unpredictably. He couldn’t tell whether they were rising or falling. The movements were erratic, like the machine was lost in a maze, searching frantically for an exit. Screams and muffled cries rose around him, swallowed by the clanking metal. The acrid scent of singed steel drifted upward.
Then he felt it; heat blooming at the nape of his neck.
Please, please, not here, he reasoned with himself.
He pressed his toes hard against the soles of his shoes, trying to steady himself. Although blindfolded, he squeezed his eyes shut anyway and focused on his breathing, shallow and fast. He had left his meds in the car, worried he might be asked to empty his pockets. He’d wanted to keep his mental challenges private. Now it felt foolish.
His mind scrambled for one of Mama’s proverbs before one surfaced. “If you were born to hang, you can’t drown.” Morbid, yes. But the reminder that he could not be harmed if it was not fated steadied him.
He unclenched his jaw and let his toes uncurl.
He tried to reframe the experience as exciting. It was a hard sell, even to himself.
Gradually, the elevator’s violent motion eased.
The platform slowed, the zigzags softening until, finally, it stopped.
Only their ragged breaths filled the space.
Then, with a soft click, the doors slid open.
A shift in the air hit him immediately. Crisp, clean, carrying none of the factory’s damp, musty scent. He knew, without seeing, that they had arrived somewhere entirely different.
