Chapter 34 Joon-Gi

Chapter 34

?Joon-gi

Strange things have been happening for some time at the house up on the cliff, Joon-gi knows that much. And when the new woman arrived, he knew for certain that they had not told him everything; he would have called the police but he has already tried that, so he left her the notes and waited to see what happened next.

—

A lot has happened to him since he was knocked out on the property three months ago.

When he woke up after cutting the power to the basement of the house, he found they had moved him to the gatehouse.

He stirred on the seat he was slumped in, slowly becoming aware that he was not alone. The atmosphere was strange, as the black-clad security guard offered him a plastic cup of water and watched him drink it thirstily. Then without a word the guard rose and slipped from the gatehouse, Joon-gi assumed, to inform someone else he was awake.

Joon-gi shifted in his seat, wondering if he should run, but he noted a camera mounted high in the corner of the gatehouse office and trained on him as he clutched his now empty, crumpled cup. There was little point in running.

He touched the back of his head gingerly. It hurt a lot; his fingers came away wet with red. His head throbbed and he felt strangely unreal. All of this did, because his life wasn't like this; things like this didn't happen to him.

He wondered if he should feel scared, because he oddly did not. They had knocked him out, yes, but they clearly meant him no immediate harm. And if he thought about it, weren't they well within their rights to have incapacitated him up on the property? Reality seemed to flood in around him. The truth was he had broken into private property and disabled a private security system. Joon-gi's slow seep of dread spread further through him; he was in a lot of trouble.

God knew what was going on up at the house, with that woman, but down here, in the cold light of day, it was none of his business and he had plain and simple broken the law.

He looked at the clock high on the wall behind him: he had been unconscious for over an hour. He wondered if the woman in the house was okay.

At that moment the uniformed security guard returned with another security guard. This one was in plainclothes, with the demeanor and authority of an overseeing officer. The uniformed guard took a seat behind Joon-gi. The other man remained standing and took in Joon-gi, then exhaled audibly through his nose.

Joon-gi opened his mouth to speak, but the broad-shouldered man lifted a hand to silence him.

"Save it. The police are on their way."

Joon-gi wondered if perhaps that was a good thing; he could explain to the police about the woman, the basement, his concerns for her safety. But as he ran through the scene in his head it began to sound more and more crazy even to him. Because he had no evidence of any of this. He had trespassed on private property and tampered with their security system, just because of a feeling, a gut instinct. He had broken the law on a hunch, like some kind of crazy vigilante.

The man in front of him seemed to sense the direction of Joon-gi's thoughts too. Perhaps Joon-gi was easy to read. Another worry to add to the rapidly increasing pile along with the police and his aching head. Miami and the idea of his beautiful apartment seemed to slip further away moment by moment.

"Here's what we're going to do," the man said. "Before they get here, we're going to have a quick chat because I think we both know you're in quite a bit of trouble. And while I'm sure you've got a great explanation for whatever the hell you were doing up there, I don't want to hear it. Okay?"

Joon-gi considered this then nodded. "Okay."

"Good. So here's how I see it. You were hired to fix an electrical issue. You signed an NDA before you entered the building. You met a female member of staff inside the property and then you decided to return a few days later and break into the property? Would that be an accurate description of what occurred?"

Joon-gi considered the form they had made him sign the first time he entered the gatehouse to collect his lanyard. That form meant he would not be able to tell the police what was in the house without being sued—the man was reminding him of this without saying it.

Joon-gi had a vague understanding of these contracts from other handymen on the islands; he knew that breaking NDAs meant incurring huge financial penalties. And it never would have occurred to him to do so until now. The only way you could legally break an NDA was if it stopped you from reporting a crime.

But what was the crime here?

Was that woman being held hostage? He had no evidence of that.

If he asked the police to go in the house and check, he would have to disclose why he thought what he thought and tell them about the locked basement, the rooms he knew were down there. And if the woman wasn't there, or if she was and it was all fine and he had imagined the whole thing, then they would sue him. He would lose everything, his savings, everything he had worked and sweat and bled so hard to accumulate.

His future gone in the blink of an eye.

Joon-gi licked his dry lips and answered.

"Yes, I think I made a mistake," he said carefully. The man in front of him seemed pleased about the direction this was going.

"I was concerned about—an electrical issue," Joon-gi continued, the words coming from some deep self-preserving well in his brain. "But I see now everything is fine. That's my problem, I think," he added, trying a careful smile now. "I am a very loyal employee and sometimes I can overfocus on a job well done. But what I did was not appropriate. I see that now."

Joon-gi looked at the man and the man held his gaze, looking for a crack in Joon-gi's poker face. He could not find one and seemed satisfied.

"I'm pleased to hear that, Joon-gi. I know the owners of the property were pleased with the work you carried out so I think on this occasion, given our understanding, we will not be pressing charges when the police arrive. A warning should be satisfactory, don't you think?"

Joon-gi nodded, but he could not help the panic rising inside him at the realization that a police caution would seriously impact his ability to gain more employment on the islands if word got out.

Again, the man in front of him seemed to read his thoughts. "And as an article of faith we'd like to hold you on retainer. You can work for us, solely, going forward. We would of course pay you above your current freelance take-home. You would just need to be available as and when required. How would that sound?"

Joon-gi swallowed hard. "How long would the contract be?"

The man smiled. "How long would you like it to be, Joon-gi?"

—

They had explained it to him over the next few weeks as they slowly gave him more and more access to service the house and the immaculate white rooms beneath it.

It was an experience. A sequence of rooms, escape rooms if you will, for the immensely rich.

Joon-gi himself had tried an escape room with an old college friend back in Miami. It had been fun, but it had been nothing like the rooms under that house. And at no point in Miami had Joon-gi ever felt his life hung in the balance. Why anyone would want to experience real fear was beyond Joon-gi, but then didn't the rich thrive on the edge of things—they were like sharks, if they stopped swimming they would die. They all did it in some way, flying planes, chartering submarines, hot-air balloons, rockets even, all to prove they were still alive. It made sense, just not to him.

But it appeared, if you had enough money and were bored of life you could buy this experience. The ultimate Ironman-style physical and psychological test.

It was dangerous, they explained to Joon-gi, but nothing in there could kill anyone. All the rooms were monitored, everything would cut off before a client was in serious danger. It gave only a very realistic sense of what it might be like to almost die and then not.

Joon-gi did his job. He tried not to ask questions. The pay was good and everything was going well until the new woman arrived.

She did not look rich, not in the way the rich out here looked. She looked classy, sure, well off maybe, but not rich-rich, not generationally wealthy. More important, she did not look like the kind of person who would pay for an experience like this.

Joon-gi tried to tell himself that she was playing along with the role. They had told him each client's experience was tailored specifically to their own requirements.

He had been required to change the sign on the house from Cliff Hill to Anderssen's Opening. He'd googled the name and learned that it was some obscure chess term, so he guessed the woman must love chess. But something about the way she was in the fleeting glimpses he'd seen of her gave him a strange feeling. The same feeling Maria had given him.

And that feeling has grown in strength until he cannot shift the idea that while this house might once have been an experience for rich, paying customers, it seems to be something else entirely now. The new woman did not seem to know she is taking part in an experience, but then what did he know about the kind of people who would do this kind of thing? Perhaps she is just incredibly invested in playing along with her own story, something about a dead father. Perhaps it's helping her in some way?

Joon-gi does not know. So he does what he's told, placing the handwritten signs where they tell him to, quietly doing his job. After all, he nearly has enough for that apartment. One more year of this and he will have enough.

It is so nearly over.