Pale yellow streetlights buzzed softly overhead. The entire industrial park seemed empty, dead. Mia headed briskly toward the loading bay. Halfway there she was abruptly illuminated by a spotlight and changed direction instantly, walking toward the front door of the building. When the spotlight shifted she realized it was only the headlights of a passing car on the service road. By then she had already pulled open the front door and could see inside. Facing her was an empty room.

Forcing herself to breathe naturally, Mia stepped into the carpeted waiting room furnished with white vinyl chairs. Retro modern. The receptionist’s desk hid behind a frosted glass window that reminded Mia of her dentist’s office. The window was closed. No people were in sight, no posters on the walls, no pamphlets on tables or in racks. No indication of what this place was, what they did, what service they provided. Efficiency Matters.

Mia crossed to the main door and tugged the handle. Locked. The only other door led to a closet, empty except for half a dozen plastic hangers. She was about to try sliding open the window to the reception desk when a voice spoke over hidden speakers.

“Can I help you?” a man asked.

“Yes, hi,” she said, stepping back and looking around. In the corner farthest from the door she spotted a ceiling camera. “I’m looking for Hercules Window and Door”–she had passed it on the way into the complex–“and I’m totally lost. Feels like I’ve been driving in circles for hours. Do you have any idea–”

“Turn right at the end of the driveway. At the first light make another right–”

“Hold on, let me get a pen and paper.” Quickly she tugged on the window before the voice could respond.

Like the door, it was locked tight. “Okay, go on. Turn right and then right…”

The voice repeated the directions and Mia pretended to pay attention. “Got it. Thanks so much. Night.”

A faint click sounded as the intercom shut off. The voice didn’t say goodbye.

Outside in the parking lot, Mia passed her car and headed straight for the loading bay. Still nobody in sight. On this side the truck was lodged tightly against the wall. Crossing around the front of the cab, she found there was a narrow space between the other side of the truck and the edge of the loading bay. Didn’t look wide enough to stuff a football into.

Before she could change her mind Mia inserted herself into the space. Sometimes being thin as spaghetti had its benefits. She had to keep her head turned sideways to fit. It was a tight squeeze, uncomfortable, claustrophobic, scraping between the truck and the wall, fearful every second of getting stuck or of someone showing up at either end of the opening. She felt a hard knot of panic tightening in her chest, constricting her lungs, her throat. But she made it.

Pulling herself up on the loading platform, Mia peeked around a corner into the building. A vast space the size of an airplane hangar greeted her. Stacked neatly atop one another in towers about twenty feet high were steel boxes, crates marked Handle with Care and Do NOT X-ray. She couldn’t tell if the crates had just come off the truck or were going into it.

Still no one in sight. Farther back in the hangar though, deep inside the building, behind the crates, she could hear activity. Not voices, just movement and the sound of machinery, like an automated assembly line. Overhead cables hung from the ceiling back there, moving like ropes in a breeze. She moved closer, inching down a narrow crevice between the crates.

When she came to the last crate and stole a quick glimpse into the open warehouse beyond, it was all Mia could do not to cry out. The far end of the hangar was crowded with bodies, hard at work at factory tasks. Bodies without heads.

The cables hanging from the ceiling each plugged into the neck of a body as it assembled items or operated a power press or handled some other job once relegated to day laborers. Perhaps it was someone’s idea of a joke that the bodies all wore blue collars. Struck with a thought, Mia fumbled for her cell phone and snapped a few pictures. If the police weren’t interested, maybe the news channels would be. Wonder where the job market has gone? Here it is, a mix of male and female, headless and soulless bodies of all sizes, shapes and colors. At least they were diverse, Mia thought to herself and almost laughed, recognizing once again just how close she was to hysteria.

Turning to retrace her steps Mia slid between the crates, freezing when she heard voices. Daring to sneak a look through the opening between the crates closest to the loading dock, she saw workmen entering the hangar through a door marked Lounge. She couldn’t hear their words, just the chatter of voices and an occasional laugh as two of them climbed aboard pitchforks and the rest prepared blankets and pallets for moving.

While several of the men approached the first crate, she backpedaled through the crevice, ducking sideways into an even narrower slot between the crates, a space tiny enough to keep out a healthy rabbit. Again her size saved her, but she knew she couldn’t stay here. The moment the crates were moved, she’d be revealed–assuming they didn’t push the crates together while loading and crush her like a grape.

Down the narrow gap she squeezed, sucking in her gut as the opening tapered ever thinner. Again she felt the panic rise, the primal fear of tight spaces. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Forcing her body through the narrowing cleft Mia got stuck for an instant and nearly cried out, planting her hands against the crate and using them to push herself forward until she reached the end of the alleyway, where it widened ever so slightly. Without pausing even to collect herself Mia slipped her head past the edge into the opening beyond and gulped in a mouthful of air.

Workmen were loading the truck no more than a hundred feet from her. Nobody noticed as she quickly pulled her head back inside the gap. They were too occupied with what they were doing and their idle conversation.

Taking deep breaths, Mia closed her eyes and willed her heart to quiet. Her brief peek had revealed a door near her, midway along a wall of frosted glass. The word Office was painted on the door. It looked dark on the other side of the glass. If she could get to the door without being noticed, maybe she had a chance. If it was unlocked. If there was nobody on the other side.

Too many ifs. But no alternative. She couldn’t go back between those crates. Taking a few deep breaths to prepare herself, Mia peeked out again, saw nobody looking in her direction, and dashed for the door. It was only twenty, twenty-five feet away. Felt like miles. She hit it hard and pushed. It didn’t open. Then she realized it opened toward her and she yanked. A moment later she was pulling it shut from the other side.

***

Tell us: Would you have gone into the building?