The office had emptied earlier in the evening. Most of the other workers ventured home to their routine lives. The field of empty cubicles seemed to stretch on for eternity, no natural light crept into this place. It was an environment devoid of the sense of time, which was likely intentional. It was part of the plan. If the workers didn’t get indications of time, then maybe they would work longer. Only one clock rested on a distant wall behind the receptionist’s desk. Its batteries had run out long ago.
Sam stood under the harsh fluorescent light, draped his coat over his shoulder, and logged out of his workstation. He was a model corporate employee: clean-cut hair, recently groomed beard, and slightly unfitted grey suit. Upon standing, he peered across the massive room toward the exit. Karen was still sitting behind the reception desk. It was odd to see her here this late, he usually was the last to leave. He had talked to her here or there, but always with others around. Maybe this was his chance.
Grabbing his backpack, he carried it at his side as he made his way to the reception desk. Karen was staring blindly into the computer screen as if detached from reality. Regardless of her blank expression, she was quite beautiful. She had flowing blonde hair, the right amount of makeup, and vibrant green eyes. It was her smile that always drew him in. It was how she looked away, as if embarrassed when she couldn’t hold back that joyous expression. Here it was, just the two of them. He approached the desk.
“I’m usually the last one to leave,” he said awkwardly. “What do they have you working on?”
She didn’t flinch, continuing to stare at the screen.
“I mean, it’s almost eight. How late are you staying?”
No reaction. No smile. No engagement.
“Okayyy,” he mumbled nervously. “I guess I’ll leave you to it.”
Sam slowly backed away from the desk and then darted to the exit, trying to leave the awkwardness behind. It was odd for her to be this cold. During the day she was so warm and inviting. They had spoken in the break room several times, and he thought they had some connection. He must’ve been wrong.
Making his way to the elevator bay, he began beating himself up for being so vapid. He thought he was charming in some ways. Clicking the down button, he told himself he wasn’t. The elevator took an unbearable amount of time to arrive. The longer he stayed on the same floor as her, the more that crushing feeling washed over him. The door slid open, and he quickly jumped in, desperately clicking the button for the ground floor.
After several seconds, the elevator doors gave way to the lobby, and Sam continued to flee his awkward interaction. How could he live this down tomorrow? He made his way past the front desk and called out to the security guard, “Hope your evening is going better than mine, Hank.”
Hank was staring at his security terminal without flinching. Sam stopped and looked to his left and right in a confused daze.
“Hank?” he said, leaning forward. “What the…”
He stepped forward to the edge of the desk and tried again, “Hank! What’s wrong?”
No expression. No reaction.
“Goddammit, what’s happening?!”
He put down his backpack and made his way around the desk to see what he was staring at on the screen. As he peered over Hank’s shoulder, he realized that the screen was turned off. He was staring at nothing. Sam put his hand on Hank’s shoulder and gave him a nudge. Nothing.
Sam looked back at the elevators. Maybe he wasn’t as awkward as he thought. Something was not right. Karen and now, Hank. He shook his head and stumbled back. Returning to the front of the desk, he grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder and made his way out of the building.
Outside, he saw the same phenomenon. Cars had stopped in the middle of the street. Pedestrians were frozen in place. The hot dog guy at the corner stood still as the steam from boiling water wisped across his face. All had the same blank stares as Karen and Hank. Sam’s eyes darted across the scene, his head turning, his body spinning. What the hell? He rushed to the nearest person and grabbed them by the arm.
“Sir, are you okay?”
He shook the man’s arm. Nothing. He went in front of the man and clapped in his face. Nothing. Sam turned and rushed to a yellow cab with its windows rolled down. He poked his head in and hollered, “Sir! Sir!! Wake up!!!” Nothing. He pulled his head back and slammed his hand on the top of the car, letting out an echoing smash.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement down the street. Someone was moving! He focused in on the location and saw a man in a white coat darting for an alleyway. He dropped his bag and rushed after the man.
Sam weaved in between the idle vehicles and made his way onto the sidewalk, rushing past dozens of frozen people. He turned and peered down the alleyway. He could see the white coat turn to the right and around a corner, continuing to flee. Sam, panting, dropped his backpack and sprinted after him. He made a quick right and abruptly stopped.
Standing before him were five people in white hooded coats. The hoods masked their faces in darkness. He stepped back, and they stayed still. Was this a trap? Are they muggers? The hairs stood on the back of Sam’s neck as a feeling of impending doom crept over him.
“It’s okay, Sam Berlinski. We’re here to help,” said one of the hooded.
“How do you know my name?” Sam demanded as he looked back down the alley.
“If you stay and listen, we can tell you. If you flee, we cannot help you.”
“Help me with what?”
