by Nic Joseph
The back part of Dr. Christine’s clinic was nothing like her office at the hospital or the neat waiting room I’d seen through the window out front. It was cold, worn, and dirty. We walked through a long hallway, which was flanked by doors. The halls were virtually empty—no paintings on the walls, no floor runner, barely enough light to see in front of me.
The man turned, and we went toward what I imagined must be the front of the building. I kept a lookout for Christine, wondering if she was here and how much she knew about what was going on in her clinic after hours.
The man slowed down in front of a door on the right side of the hallway. He stepped forward and opened it before moving back.
“Wait in there.”
As he turned to walk away, he looked at me again. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
I paused, my body turning to enter the room, and I looked back at him. “I doubt it,” I said. I waited, staring at him, just long enough for him not to get suspicious, before walking into the room.
What could that mean? Had Christine showed him a picture of me?
Did he know my father and think I looked like him too?
In the room, I saw I was not alone. The other men I’d seen in the alley were sitting there, along with two more who must have arrived before I did. They looked up at me.
Judging by their appearance, I could tell that at least two of the four men were homeless. The man I’d talked to in the alley was still scratching furiously, and he gave me a slight nod as I sat down.
“Where’s your friend?” he asked.
“My what?” I blinked, and then I remembered my lie from the alley. “Oh, he decided to go home,” I said with a shrug. “Whatever.”
We sat in black plastic chairs around the perimeter of the room. No one spoke, and everyone seemed okay with that. I was dying to ask them why they were there, but I held back, tapping my finger against the armrest and hoping I looked bored rather than nervous.
What in the hell was going on here?
The door opened again, and a woman came into the room. She paused and looked around before walking over to me.
“If you’ll come with me,” she said. “They’re ready for you.”
I stood and locked eyes with one of the other men, who frowned.
“Why does he get to go first?” he asked. “I been waiting here an hour!”
“Your turn will be up soon,” the woman said before walking through the doorway and stepping aside to let me exit before pulling the door closed behind us.
The woman moved quickly, and I soon lost track of where we were in the building. She walked swiftly through a maze of hallways and doors, and I shuffled along behind her.
“Here we are,” she said as she approached a room. She opened the door and stepped back to let me enter. “Please undress and put on the robe,” she said. “Someone will be with you shortly.”
The door closed behind her, and I stood in the middle of the room. Did they really expect me to take off all my clothes?
Just what were they doing here?
I knew I didn’t have a choice if I really wanted to see this thing through. Quickly, I undressed and wrapped the robe around me. Then, I sat down on the exam bench and waited. I crossed and uncrossed my legs as I tried to get settled on the elevated perch.
I was seconds away from getting up and walking back into the hallway when the door opened and the man who’d let me in from the alley came inside. He strode over to me and asked me to stand.
“I need to check for wires,” he said, motioning for me to put my arms out.
He patted me down through the gown, and when he was satisfied, he nodded for me to sit back down.
“Do you have any sensitivity to light?”
I blinked, surprised by the sudden and direct question.
“Well?” he asked. “Do you?”
“Uh, no, not really.”
“Do you ever experience dizziness or anything similar?”
“No.”
“Do you have any problems with anxiety, panic attacks, or similar conditions?”
I swallowed. Now why would they need to know that?
“No,” I said softly.
“What?”
“No. I don’t.”
The man nodded. “Okay, good.” He took a key out of his pocket and went over to a small cabinet above the sink. Opening it, he pulled out a bottle and turned back to me. “As you know, you’ll need to take these pills before we get started.”
He poured two pills into a paper cup and then opened a cabinet under the sink and took out a bottle of water. He handed me the pills and the water bottle.
“You’ll need to take these while I’m standing here, and then we’ll get started.”
I took them from him and was about to respond when he cut me off.
“And make sure they go all the way down, okay?” he said. “I’ll be checking.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Stop shaking, Francis.
I stared at the cup in my hand. The two pills seemed to stare back at me defiantly, and they started to rattle against each other. I switched the cup to my other hand, hoping Scarface wouldn’t pick up on how nervous I was.
“Is there a problem?”
“No,” I said, pouring the pills out into my palm and juggling them around.
Think.
The man took a step closer to me, his face scrunched in a frown. “What the hell are you waiting for?”
I unscrewed the cap on the water bottle and held it in my hand, gripping the cap firmly against the pills.
“Look, I don’t have all day,” the man said, shifting even closer and peering over into my hand. “Are you going to take them or what?”
He was watching me so carefully, as if he knew, and I wondered if he could hear my heart racing.
“What are they?” I asked as casually as possible.
“What does that matter?”
“I’m just asking,” I said. “It could be anything.”
“No questions, remember?” he said. “If you don’t want to take ’em, you don’t have to be here.”
“No, no problem,” I said, the pills still rattling in my hand.
Do something.
Taking a deep breath, I leaned my head back and dropped the pills in my mouth, opening my hand out wide for him to see that it was empty.
I lifted the water bottle up to my mouth and filled it with water. As I did, I carefully slipped the two pills beneath my tongue.
Now.
Pressing down as hard as possible on the pills, I began to swallow the water, letting it slide down the back of my throat before opening my mouth and expelling the majority of it into the man’s face.
“Ugh!” he cried out, stepping back and putting his hands up to shield himself. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I pretended to choke, and soon, the charade turned to reality as the water continued to drip down my throat, and I coughed violently. I bent over, the coughs shaking me as I pressed down even harder with my tongue. Putting the water bottle to my mouth again, I pretended to take another swig, but this time, I pushed the pills into the opening of the bottle before screwing the top back on. I opened my mouth to take in big gulps of air.
“What the fuck, man?” he asked, peering at me. With his eyes still on me, he backed toward the sink and unrolled a few paper towels. He used them to wipe at his face and chest. “That’s some nasty shit.”
“I’m sorry,” I said between heaves, and I sat in the lone chair, placing the water bottle on the floor beside me. “I’ve always had a really hard time swallowing things. They always want to come back up.”
He glared at me angrily as he continued to wipe his face. After a moment, he reached behind him and grabbed another paper towel, handing it to me. “Open your mouth,” he said
, leaning forward, but he was careful to keep his distance.
I stood and positioned myself so my body completely shielded the water bottle. I opened my mouth wide. “Not this time, though,” I said. “I think they’re going to stay put.”
He didn’t say anything. For good measure, I turned my head to the side and coughed again, and he finally took a step back.
As I turned, I caught a glimpse of the water bottle. I couldn’t see the pills, but the water had turned a dull, murky white.
Shit.
“Sorry about that,” I said again, searching for a way to distract him. “Hazards of the job, huh?” He stared at me for a moment but didn’t say anything, so I kept going. “How long have you been working here?”
His eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms in front of his beefy chest. “Why?”
“Just making conversation, man.”
He watched me carefully. “About a year.”
“Wow. So a year of late nights and idiots like me choking in your face,” I said. “I hope it’s worth it.”
He took a step closer and snarled. “Look, I know you’re here just to make a few bucks, but you can be assured that there is nothing more important than the work we’re doing.” We stared at each other, and the tough-guy facade broke, just a bit, and I saw there was more to the man than his gruff responses or scarred face. He wasn’t just muscle. Maybe, just maybe, I could get a little bit more out of him.
“And what’s that?” I asked, shrugging when he narrowed his eyes. “Hey, man, I’m just curious.”
“You should keep your curiosity to yourself.”
“Oh,” I said casually. “So you don’t really know what’s going on, huh?”
“What?”
“I mean, they probably don’t give the details to just anybody.”
I could see the annoyance flit across his face. “Good thing I’m far from just anybody,” he said, and I could see he was rattled. He covered it quickly. “You may want to sit down,” he said, and the conversation was over. He turned and headed toward the door.
“What?” I asked, but he walked out of the room and closed the door.
The pills he’d handed me had to be some kind of sedative…but why? I sat back in the chair and used my foot to push the water bottle as far beneath it as possible.
I scanned the ceiling for signs of cameras but didn’t see anything. Still, they could be watching me. I closed my eyes and leaned back in the seat.
Less than a minute later, I heard a light, barely noticeable knock on the door, and it opened. The woman who’d led me to the room came in and stared at me for a second before frowning.
“How are you feeling?”
“A little dizzy,” I said, praying it was the right response.
She nodded. “You seem to be holding up pretty well.”
“Yeah, I…I don’t know.” I took a chance and leaned forward, placing my head in my hands.
Too much?
Too little?
The woman placed a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up. “If you’ll please sit here,” she said, gesturing to the exam table.
She walked to the wall and pulled down a blood pressure cuff. As she lifted my arm, she peered into my face. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m just… I’d like to lie down.”
“Okay, no problem,” she said, nodding. “Do you need some water?” I saw her glance around the room.
I cleared my throat loudly. “No, I’m fine. No more water. Just…lying down would be good.”
“Sure,” she said, helping me recline back onto the table. She continued taking my blood pressure.
“What were those pills I took?” I asked.
“Oh, just a mild sedative, but it doesn’t seem to be affecting you too much, so that’s a good thing,” she said with a smile. “You’re a big guy. I guess you can handle it.”
I smiled and nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
“Now I need you to relax.” She was silent as she read the dial. “Blood pressure is normal.” She lowered the cuff and grabbed a penlight from her pocket. She shined the light into my eyes and looked closely.
“Are you a nurse?” I asked.
She smiled again. “Something like that.”
I was about to ask another question when a noise made us jump. She turned to a phone on the wall, which I hadn’t noticed when I’d walked in. The woman picked it up, her attention still trained on me.
“Hello?”
As she listened to the person on the other end of the line, her eyes widened, and she stared at me for a moment.
“Okay.” She waited a few minutes, and then she frowned a little. “Okay,” she said again. She hung up the phone and came back to me. “It’s time for you to move on to the next stage.”
“What was that call about?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “There was a problem with one of the recruits in the waiting area, so they’ve sent him on.”
Recruits?
I nodded. “Where are we going?”
“You’re going to see the doctor now.”
“The doctor?”
“Yes.”
I wanted to ask her if she meant Christine, but I bit my tongue. I looked down at the flimsy robe I was wearing. “Like this?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” she said. She seemed to be in a hurry. She opened the door and waited for me to get off the table to follow her. She wasn’t nearly as gentle as she had been before.
What had changed?
I pretended to feel a bit woozy and stood slowly, following her out. But she wasn’t wasting any time. She walked down the hallway, and I moved quickly to keep up with her.
Did I even need to pretend anymore?
Had they figured me out?
She turned down another hallway and stopped. I was again surprised at how big the space was compared to the outside.
She pushed opened a door, and I was greeted with another waiting room, this one empty.
Across from where we stood, on the far wall, was a single office.
“You can head into room three,” she said, pointing. “Whenever you’re ready to begin.”
With that, she walked out. When I heard a soft click, I spun around, reaching for the handle.
Too late. She’d locked it.
I banged on the door, but there were no sounds from outside.
What the hell?
Why had she locked me in?
Was this really part of the “experiment”?
I walked slowly toward room three, my eyes searching for cameras. The rectangular waiting room contained only a few pieces of furniture: an old desk with stacks of file folders on it, two armchairs, and an empty, floor-to-ceiling metal bookcase near the door against the far wall.
When I reached that door, I put my hand on the handle and waited.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled it open.
And froze.
Standing in front of me, hands at her sides, was Christine Sharpe.
I walked farther into the room. “What the—”
Before I could finish, two hands were on my back, pushing me roughly to the ground. I choked on my breath as I hit the floor.
Groaning, I rolled over slowly and stared up into a man’s face.
Scarface.
“Oh, hi again,” I said as I began to push myself up, but he stepped forward and placed a foot firmly on my chest. “Oh—okay, got it. I’m supposed to stay down here—”
“What are you doing here, Francis?” Christine asked, and I looked back and forth between them. This room was even smaller than the one I’d just left, but it was filled with filing cabinets and overstuffed bookshelves. “Why’d you come?”
“I don’t know. I think a better question is what are you
doing?” I said. “What are you hiding here?”
Christine didn’t answer my question but continued to stare down at me. “Why did you sneak in?”
“Because you’re hiding something, and we both know it,” I said again. “Do you know where my father is?”
“No!” she said quickly.
“Look, all I want is to find Alex and that kid,” I said. “I came here tonight to talk to you, and I saw the men coming in through the alley. What’s going on here?”
“It’s none of your business, Francis,” she said. “You had no right sneaking in. It wasn’t just to talk to me. I saw you on the cameras the minute you entered the premises, but I wanted to see what you were up to.”
“You know what I’m up to,” I said, cursing myself for having missed the cameras. “I just told you. But that’s a lot more than I can say about you.”
“I said it’s none of your business!”
She locked eyes with Scarface and made a small motion toward the door, communicating something with her eyes that I couldn’t understand. He said something back, a whisper under his breath, and she shook her head. I watched them debating their next move, and I knew it might be my only opportunity to act.
Without giving myself time to overthink it, I reached up and grabbed Scarface’s ankle firmly, pulling toward me as hard as I could.
He looked down at me, startled, but it was too late.
As he lost his balance, he reached out to brace himself on a filing cabinet. He missed, the underside of his arm striking the corner of the cabinet, and he cried out in pain. As he landed, gripping his arm, I pushed myself up and bolted toward the door.
“Francis!”
I reentered the waiting room and immediately stepped to the side, flattening myself against the wall near the door.
Christine rushed out behind me. “You can’t get out that way,” she said as she walked out. “I had Giselle lock it so we could speak.”
As she turned back toward the office door and caught sight of me, I quickly pushed the door shut. I rushed forward and grabbed hold of the tall metal bookcase on the other side of the door. I breathed in and yanked as hard as I could, toppling it. The crash it made was deafening, and we both froze.
Christine blinked as the sudden separation between her and her scar-faced friend settled in.