BOUND BY THE JERSEY

She opened her eyes suddenly, feeling a sense of disorientation wash over her, making her head pulsate. The gleaming white ceiling with two latticed openings above her made her feel uneasy, while the coldness of the floor she lay on gave her chills. Her body shivered unconsciously at the mere thought of lying on the cold concrete floor. A little unsteadily, she managed to get up into a sitting position, thankful that the coldness of the concrete floor had disappeared, and started surveying the dimly lit room in which she was. She was not alone.

As she took in her surroundings, a musty odor assaulted her senses, mingling with the faint hum of ventilation machinery. The air was thick with tension, and she could hear the muffled sounds of distant voices echoing through the metal walls. Her heart pounded in her chest as her thoughts raced through her head, trying to figure out what kind of trouble she was and who these strangers around her were.

"Hey, you're awake," a voice said, breaking the silence. His tone was cautious but somehow soothing.

Her gaze snapped to the source of the voice—a tall, imposing figure with a stern expression. She estimated that the black man was over thirty years old, and judging by his build, he had been in the army, maybe even a policeman. She had never seen him before, but his presence offered a glimmer of security amid the chaos. His face did not reflect concern, a sign that the man had been in this situation before.

Next to him sat another stranger, an old man with a lean face decorated with a thick beard that seemed to add to his mysterious aura. The musty scent grew stronger, mingling with the faint smell of old paper and dust. "Welcome to the party, young lady," he said with a wry smile, his voice husky. Looking at his old-fashioned suit, she thought he could be over sixty.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm Tracy. From New Jersey. How did we all end up here?"

"John, New Jersey, too," the black man smiled slightly at her. "I woke up here and saw all of you. Frank was already awake." He nodded to a bespectacled old man with a gray beard in an old-fashioned suit.

Frank half raised his right hand in greeting. "New Jersey," he said in a hoarse voice. "I have no idea how I ended up here."

"I'm Olivia." A small woman in a flower-design dress introduced herself, avoiding looking at anyone, her voice trembling with fear. "Also, New Jersey."

"I'm Mason, and I'm pretty sure we're all from Jersey. Is there anyone among us not from New Jersey?" A skinny man with a bald head and big square glasses attracts attention.

The silence ruled the room.

Tracy's gaze swept over, landing on a woman with a commanding presence. Her demeanor exuded confidence mingled with a hint of arrogance. She was clad in an elegant suit, the epitome of sophistication amidst the stark surroundings.

Her meticulously styled blue hair hinted at a bold personality unafraid to defy convention. Tracy found herself both intimidated and intrigued by this enigmatic figure, wondering what role she played in their shared ordeal.

Before Tracy could gather her thoughts, the woman spoke up, her voice cutting through the uneasy silence. "Mary Crowley, the Vice President of Crowley Industries. I demand an explanation," she declared, her tone firm and unwavering.

"Like all of us, I guess," Mason said harshly.

Mary gave him a look of disdain and then turned her attention to Frank, an older man with a beard.

"You seem like a person who could give insight into our situation," her voice sounded colder than the concrete floor they were sitting on.

Frank smiled weakly and shook his head. "You flatter me, young lady, but I have no insight into our situation. I have not the slightest idea of what is happening to us."

His explanation was not what she expected, and when her gaze swept over the faces of the others, she saw disappointment and contempt clearly outlined on her face.

"It looks like I'll have to ask someone more responsible for the answer," her arrogant voice said.

"Good luck with that," John added calmly, closing his eyes. "There's no one here but us. Frank and I tried to call someone while you were sleeping but to no avail."

Mary approached the metal door, acting like she hadn't heard John. She knocked on the door with her right hand forcefully, but nothing happened except that the clang of the blow resounded like a cathedral bell, forcing them to cover their ears with their hands.

"Stop doing that," Mason shouted, standing up and forcing John to stand up as well. The room was suddenly filled with tension.

Mary turned to Mason, her face emotionless, hard as stone. "I won't allow you to address me like that," her voice cut the air in the room sharper than a knife. "Someone kidnapped me and brought me here without my permission. I want answers. I want them now."

"You're not going to get that by yelling and making everyone nervous," John said, looking from Mary to Mason. "Let's calm down and analyze what we know."

Tracy was almost convinced John was a cop because of the way he was trying to calm Mason and Mary's nerves. He was the only one who looked composed and under control.

Suddenly, an unpleasant thought appeared in her mind. How can he be calm in this situation? They are all terrified, faced with an unimaginable situation while he is so irritatingly quiet. Who really is John? Did he have anything to do with their kidnappings?

Tracy felt another panic attack. Every face she looked at revealed new doubts. Who are these people around her? What connects them other than they are all from New Jersey? Are they part of an experiment?

"You look kind of strangely secretive, Tracy," it was more of a statement than a question from John. "What do you do?"

Tracy looked back uneasily, feeling everyone's eyes on her now.

"Maybe it will help us discover why we are here if we find what connects us," Frank said soothingly.

"You mean, except that we all live in Jersey," Mason threw in as he dropped back to the floor.

Mary Crowley moved away from the door and, crossing her arms over her chest, stared at the ceiling, ignoring the others.

"Nothing special. I'm a nurse," Tracy muttered loudly, trying to keep her voice calm.

"I'm a retired history professor," Frank introduced himself indifferently.

"The head chef in the restaurant," said Olivia modestly.

"Software engineer," Mason said.

"Ex-cop, I work as a private investigator," John said briefly.

Mary ignored the others as if she were not involved in the whole situation.

"Now that we've established that, we know our jobs don't connect us. Do you agree with that, detective?" Mason laughed again.

Before John could answer, Mary took a step closer to Mason.

"Are you amused by all this?" she snapped sharply. "Is this a game for you?"

John approached Mary and took her hand. Tracy instinctively stood up and moved closer to Frank.

Olivia was shaking, panic on her face.

"People, calm down. There's no need to create tension," she shouted, not knowing why she was interfering in the conflict. "We're all in this together."

Olivia's voice sounded like the croaking of a bird caught in a trap.

Mary tore herself from John's grip and went back to the corner of the room.

"If you have a hand in this, you'll be sorry. I promise you that," Mary's voice sounded menacing. "There are people who will turn the whole Earth upside down to find me, and when that happens, those responsible for this will wish they had never met me."

"Just keep telling yourself that," Mason said dismissively. "No one will find us here. The sooner you come to terms with that fact, the easier it will be."

"Maybe that's true for the likes of you, but not for me," Mary told him in disgust as Mason stood up again.

Tracy felt uneasy. Suddenly, she didn't know how to position herself. Mary seemed entirely antipathetic to her, John was too much of a mystery, Mason was a typical provocateur, Olivia was scared, and Frank was ordinary. Whom should she trust?

"Not all of us are destined to be presidents of big companies," Mason grinned. "Some of us have to actually work to survive."

"You don't know anything about me," said Mary. "I don't know anything about you either. And to be completely honest, I don't even want to know."

"This is Typical behavior of rich people. You're all the same. You look down on us ordinary people while you live in glass skyscrapers and watch real life lulled into your fairy tale world," Mason straightened the glasses on his nose. "It's not hard for me to understand why someone would kidnap you."

Mary shuddered at the outpouring of bitterness from Mason, who seemed about to get physical with her. His words made Frank and Olivia stand up and move closer to Tracy.

Tracy felt uncomfortable in a group with Frank and Olivia. It seemed the group had split into two factions, and she found herself in the weaker one. She glanced at Frank and was horrified to see him staring lazily at Olivia's exposed cleavage.

'Frank is a pervert,' flashed through her mind. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his face, which clearly showed lust. His lips were slightly parted, and saliva could be seen at the corners.

Unconsciously, she moved away from them, feeling completely isolated.

John stood very close to Mason, who continued to glare at Mary. She reciprocated in kind. The situation became increasingly tense, and the following silence only intensified it.

Tracy felt that one wrong word was enough to escalate everything into violence.

"You're not worth my time or attention," Mason finally said gruffly. "None of you are worth it."

He sat back on the floor and buried his head in his hands. John remained seated, waiting for Mary to move or acknowledge either.

Frank hugged Olivia, whispering words in her ear that only she could hear, causing them both to sit on the floor. Olivia rested her head on Frank's shoulder, pulling her knees closer to her chest. Tracy's horror grew as Frank placed his right hand on Olivia's right leg, caressing her with a sickening smile of pleasure. Tracy suddenly couldn't catch her breath. All these people seemed awful to her, except for John. Or maybe not.

On the other hand, maybe he's even worse. Didn't he say he was an ex-cop? Why the 'ex'? What's the reason he's no longer in the police? Maybe he's violent or an alcoholic?

Her thoughts bombarded her with questions and possibilities, overwhelming her. She had to scream. She opened her mouth but couldn't make the sound. Her horror becomes even more significant when she realizes that the whole room is disappearing into the darkness.

"Tracy?" a woman's worried voice echoed over her thoughts. "Tracy, wake up. Everything is fine. You just had a bad dream. Open your eyes."

She obeyed and opened her eyes. Olivia was leaning over her with a slightly concerned look. She wore a white doctor's coat, and John and Mason wore blue hospital uniforms.

Tracy looked around. She was tied to a hospital bed in a room devoid of furniture or anything else. Just white walls, a bed, and two openings in the roof covered with iron bars.