The Cage (8 page)

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Authors: Brian Keene

BOOK: The Cage
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“Just lie back,” Jared said. “Try to take it easy until help arrives.”

Jeff snorted. “Oh, come on, man. Are you high? Help isn’t arriving. I’m telling you, we’re fucked.”

“Shut up!” Jared whirled around to face him. “I mean it, Jeff, if you say that one more time, I’ll—”

“You’ll what, Jared? Beat me up? Kill me? Well go ahead, dude. Come on. Give it your best shot. If I’m lucky, maybe you’ll kill me before he does.”

Roy tried to speak but broke into a violent fit of coughing, and Jared and Jeff fell silent, glancing at him in concern.

“Jeff,” Roy rasped. “Stop it. You’ve been our rock through all of this. If it weren’t for you, the rest of us would have freaked out already.”

“We’re already freaked out,” Jeff said.

“Even worse than we’ve already done. You’re the one that’s been holding things together. You’re the glue. We need you to stay strong.
I
need you to stay strong. I’m scared and I’m worried and I’m in a lot of pain right now. I need somebody to lean on. So be that person, okay? Please?”

“I’m sorry,” Jeff said. His voice softened, but simultaneously took on a higher pitch. He kneeled next to the older salesman. “I’ll try. It’s just…Scott. I can’t get the image out of my head, you know? Every time I try, I hear the gunshot. Hear him screaming. His fingernails are still lying out there on the floor. His blood is still there, too, and it’s still wet and all I keep thinking is who will clean it up?”

Neither man answered him. Jared closed his eyes, turned away and sighed. Roy just stared at Jeff and continued flexing his fingers and shaking his hand. Tears streamed down Jeff’s cheeks. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He took a deep breath and shuddered.

“Who’s gonna clean it up?” he asked again. “Who’s gonna get us out of here? His fingernails came off and they’re still out there on the floor and that fucker shot him—that fucker shot Scott in the goddamned knee and all he wanted to do was pick up his girlfriend and take her out for her birthday.”

“I know,” Roy whispered. “I know. But there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“But there has to be,” Jeff insisted. “There has to be something we can do. I mean, otherwise, what’s the point? What’s the fucking point of it all? Why did I go through high school and college, put up with all kinds of bullshit in life, watch my grandfather die of cancer, go through that break up with April, and stick with this stupid job? Why go through all of that if I was just going to end up inside this cage? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“No,” Roy agreed. “It doesn’t.”

“Did you guys hear Scott when that crazy fuck dragged him out of here? Scott always seemed so strong, you know? But not at the end. I’m not going out like that. Not after everything that’s happened tonight. I mean, what’s the fucking point? Bill and Alan are dead. Clint and Carlos are missing. Scott’s been shot. For all we know, maybe they’re dead, too. But we’re still alive, right?”

Roy nodded. “Yes, we are. That’s my point.”

“Well, that means something. We must be alive for a reason. I can’t die in this cage, man. That just doesn’t make any sense. I want to live, Roy. I want to live.”

“Then hold on to that. Own it. Let it drive you and direct you.”

“I’m scared, Roy.”

“I’m scared, too. We all are. I’ve never been more scared in my life. But you need to get it together. Now promise me.”

“Okay.” Nodding, Jeff wiped his nose with his hand. “I promise.”

“Listen,” Jared interrupted. He held up his hand to silence them.

“What?” Jeff glanced around. “What is it?”

Jared stood up and walked over to the door of the cage. Then he turned around and faced them.

“You guys don’t hear that?”

Roy frowned. “Hear what?”

“The noise. The one that sounds like space? It’s changed.”

Jeff and Roy both fell silent and listened. After a moment, Jeff stirred.

“He’s right. It has changed.”

“I can’t hear much of anything,” Roy said. “My ears are still ringing. What does it sound like now?”

“There are chimes,” Jared whispered. “My mother has wind chimes hanging on her deck. It sort of sounds like those, except that it’s just the same four notes over and over again.”

Jeff nodded. “I hear them, too—just beneath the static sound. But they’re getting louder.”

“I was wrong, after all,” Jared said. “Scott was right. It doesn’t sound like space. It doesn’t sound like anything. It just sounds…
wrong
.”

“Ignore it,” Roy wheezed.

“I can’t.” Jared tapped his head with his index finger. “It’s inside my head, like cold razors going across my brain. You don’t feel that?”

“I told you—my ears are ringing. I can’t hear shit. Between the last gunshot, the stress, and my tinnitus, I’m lucky I can still hear you guys at all.”

Jeff rubbed his arms and shivered. His legs had gone to sleep while he’d crouched on the floor. He stomped his feet to get the circulation back into them. Gooseflesh prickled his forearms.

“Is it me,” he asked, “or is it getting colder in here?”

“I’ve been cold since my chest started hurting,” Roy replied, “but I’m sweating like a pig.”

“It’s cold,” Jared agreed. “It happened around the same time the noise changed.”

“Maybe he opened the outside doors or something,” Jeff suggested. “Maybe we were right, earlier. Maybe he’s looting the store, and he’s got a van or a box truck or something pulled up out front.”

“That doesn’t explain the wind chimes,” Jared said.

“Fuck the wind chimes!”

“Jeff.” Roy’s tone was cautionary. “Come on. You promised me you’d keep it together.”

The warehouse door banged open again, and the odd noise filled the cage. The chiming sound had a rhythm unlike any that Jeff had ever heard. Combined with the static, it seemed to pulse and throb, ebb and flow. It washed over them, hypnotic, yet unsettling. Jeff was so captivated by it that he forgot all about the man in black until he heard his footsteps on the concrete. As he drew closer, Jeff noticed that the madman’s lower lip was bloodied and swollen.

He punched him,
Jeff thought.
Scott—or one of the other guys—got in a swing at him!

“Things are moving now,” the killer reported, the hint of a smile on his formerly expressionless face. “I’m already set for the next one.”

“Leave us alone,” Jeff grumbled. “Why can’t you just leave us the fuck alone?”

“And what is your name?”

“Fuck you. I’m not telling you my name. How’s that?”

The killer shrugged. “That’s okay. I don’t need your name. It’s just nice to have. Names have power, but at this point, we can forego them. How about I call you Next instead? Because that is what you are. You’re next.”

The blood drained from Jeff’s face.

“No.” Roy reached out with one hand and steadied himself against the wall. Then he slowly got to his feet, gritting his teeth and grunting with exertion. “Whatever it is you’re doing out there, take me next.”

The man in black blinked.

“Roy…” Jeff pawed at the older man’s sleeve, but Roy shrugged him away.

“No, Jeff. Leave it alone.” He turned to the intruder. “How about it? Why not let these guys stay back here a while longer? They’re scared. Take me instead.”

The lunatic’s smile grew wider. “You’re not scared?”

“Of course I’m scared. But I’m also tired, and to tell the truth, I’m not feeling so hot right now.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m old.”

“Okay.” The madman unlocked the cage. “Makes no difference to me. You can go next. Come on.”

“Roy!” Jeff reached for him again. “What the hell are you thinking? Don’t do this.”

“He’s right,” Jared whispered. “Don’t go out there. You don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Roy gently removed Jeff’s hand from his shoulder and stepped away from him. Then he looked at them both and smiled.

“It will be okay, guys. You’ll see. Just stay here.”

Jeff shook his head. “No way. No fucking way. You—”

“Let’s go,” the intruder shouted. “You volunteered. No take backs. Time is short. The signal is getting stronger.”

“You heard the man,” Roy said. “We don’t want to interrupt his signal. It all sounds very important.”

He winked at Jeff and Jared and then limped out of the cage before they could stop him.

The man in black closed the door and locked it again. The padlock thumped against the steel mesh. Then he motioned Roy forward.

“What’s your name?”

“My name is Roy. Roy Hembeck. And you are?”

The gunman paused in mid-step, clearly taken aback.

“My name is Simon,” he answered after a long pause.

“Simon what?”

“That’s all you get. Names are power.”

“So you’ve said.”

Simon raised the pistol and pointed it at Roy’s mid-section. “Walk.”

Jeff called after Roy as they strolled across the warehouse, but the older salesman never looked back. He coughed once, and his knees buckled. For a moment, Jeff thought he might collapse in the middle of the aisle. But then Roy seemed to regain his strength, and marched slowly toward the door with his head held high. Simon followed closely behind him, clutching the pistol firmly. Then the door closed behind them, and the sound of the signal—whatever it was—became muffled again.

Jared sat down and cradled his face in his hands.

Jeff glanced at the floor and noticed that one of them—Simon or Roy—had stepped in a pool of Scott’s blood. Scarlet footprints led all the way to the closed door. Then they disappeared.

“And soon,” he said out loud, “so will we. Just like the others. We’ll disappear.”

If Jared heard him, he didn’t respond.

Jeff stared at the footprints and waited to see which one of them would be next.

“Maybe Roy had a plan,” Jeff said. “Maybe he was going to try something. Maybe he’d figured out a way to escape and he didn’t want to tell us because he was worried we might let it slip.”

Jeff and Jared were seated in the middle of the cage again. The temperature had grown even colder, so they’d used old video game system boxes to sit on, rather than sitting on the chilly concrete floor.

“Maybe he was faking the chest pains,” Jeff continued. “Make Simon think he was weak—not a threat. And then he was going to rush him or something. Run out the door. Simon locked the door behind him after he shot Alan, but if Roy was quick, I bet he could smash through the glass. And did you notice? Simon had a fat fucking lip. Scott or somebody punched him in the mouth. So he’s not infallible.”

Jared didn’t respond.

“Or maybe,” Jeff continued, “he was going to do something with that book of matches. Maybe he was going to light the fucking store on fire. Get the firemen and police here.”

“Jeff?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think happens to us when we die?”

Jared sounded tired. Jeff knew how he felt. He was exhausted, too. Maybe the adrenalin was leaving his system, or maybe it was some kind of delayed shock. Whatever the reason, Jeff wanted nothing more at that moment than to lie down on the floor, close his eyes, and go to sleep. He would dream of April and his parents and friends he’d known in high school and college, and in the dream, they would all be happy and smiling, and he and his friends would have never grown up and had to get jobs and he wouldn’t be here. He’d be somewhere safe and warm.

“Do you think there’s a Heaven?” Jared asked. “A God? And if so, do you have to go through all that born again stuff, or is it okay if you just tried to live a good life?”

“I don’t know,” Jeff yawned. “My parents took me to Golgotha Lutheran Church every week when I was a little kid, but I never really paid attention. We quit going there after a while.”

“How come you stopped going?”

“There was some kind of scandal. I don’t remember what, exactly. I was just a little kid. The caretaker raped some girls in the cemetery or something like that. Whatever it was, my parents seemed to lose interest in God after that.”

“I never went,” Jared said. “I thought about it sometimes. My Grandma was Catholic, but my parents never let her take me to church.”

“Why not?”

“They were atheists. My Dad said that he didn’t want me getting indoctrinated.”

“I think you have to be born again. You’ve got to ask Jesus to come into your heart or something, and forgive you for your sins.”

“That’s all?”

Jeff shrugged. “I think so. Like I said, it’s been a long time.”

They fell quiet for a while. Jeff blinked. His eyelids felt heavy. The air ducts rattled. The air grew colder. The strange noise from out in the store grew louder. Occasionally, he felt it throb in his chest, like the bass notes from a subwoofer did if you turned the volume up high. Jeff yawned again, not bothering to cover his mouth with his hand. Jared glanced up at him.

“How can you be sleepy?”

“I’m usually in bed by now.”

“On a Wednesday night?”

“Sure. Why?”

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