They Came After Me

by C S Allen

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Monday came, I told my parents that I would call them when I got the chance. I figured that the sheriff wouldn’t believe a word I’d say to him. After all, who in their right mind would believe a story like mine? I had to have a plan and that was to start talking first before the sheriff asked questions. Watching TV shows like Magnum P.I. and Hill Street Blues was enough for me to know that the cops usually ask the same questions over and over, but in a different way. So, my plan was to go straight to who was with me, that no fire had happened, I had visited the inside of the government building, and then what had killed my friends. Before walking out the door, my parents gave me a hug, and my dad said he would take the day off from work to be by the phone if I needed anything, including a lawyer.

  “I may need one, Dad, because the cops are going to twist everything around on me and Olivia. If they can’t find her, then they will say that I did it all, and I ran away from the scene,” I stated truthfully.

  On the road to the sheriff’s office, I kept looking in the rearview mirror for anyone following me. I figured that I wouldn’t be left alone for a while, but no one followed. As I parked at the office, I could see that I was the only one there besides the patrol cars. My mind was made up, and I was ready to spill my guts out as best that I could without sounding crazy. I got out of my car and walked toward the front entrance of the building. Just as I was walking up the steps to the double doors, a deputy walked out and stated that they were not open for another ten minutes. I simply replied by saying ‘thank you’ and turned around to go sit back in my car. As I did, a car passed by and pulled up along my car. It had government plates on the front of it. My stomach got nervous really quickly as I passed the car and went over to mine. I looked at the driver, and I didn’t recognize him from before, but I think he may have recognized me. The driver watched me get into my car, so I decided to leave like I had just finished my business. I held out my right hand from the steering wheel, and it was shaking. I felt so sick that I couldn’t think what to do next, so I pulled over at a gas station nearby.

  While sitting there, I remembered I hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast, so I went inside to see what they might have. I grabbed an orange juice container from the refrigerator and a couple little Debbie cakes for quick energy. As I went up to the counter to pay for my items, I saw the local newspaper. The front page stated, ‘Cabin Fire Kills Five.’ I quickly grabbed a copy and then paid the cashier and left the building. When I got inside my car, I looked at the front page to read everything that had been reported. As I figured, everything that had been written in the newspaper was wrong. Investigators were looking for one possible survivor, but weren’t sure if there was one. That statement made absolutely no sense whatsoever. If the investigators had no idea who was at the cabin, how would they know whether someone had survived or not?

  Thankfully my name and photo weren’t put in it since my parents said the cops were looking for me. After reading everything about the cabin, I took a drive past the sheriff’s office to see if the government car was still there, and lucky for me, it had left. I parked in the same spot as before and took a deep breath before getting out of my car. If the sheriff wasn’t there, I would let whoever was in charge know who I was and that I was ready to talk.

  Once again, I walked up the steps, and this time I walked inside without having to turn around. As I walked in, I saw an officer sitting behind a desk doing some paperwork with a sign posted behind him that read, ‘Please take a number from the desk and have a seat.’ As I looked around, I could see there were about ten chairs in this makeshift, waiting-room area, and nothing else. So, following directions from the sign, I walked over to the desk and picked up a number off the desk.

  As I did, the officer looked up at me and said, “Number one, what can I do for you, kid?”

  I put the card down and asked the officer if I could speak with the sheriff. Since I didn’t know how things ran in the police business, I got a quick lesson.

  “Kid, you have to request in writing to meet with the sheriff and explain what your meeting is about in detail. But first, your paperwork will go through our second-in-command, and he will decide if you see the sheriff or not. Why are you requesting to see the sheriff?” the officer asked.

  I was a bit annoyed that I was being called a kid, so I threw out a stinger response. “Sir, two of those deputies at that cabin up north didn’t die by accident in the fire; they were murdered.”

  The officer stood up from his chair and then put his hands on his hips and said, “What do you know about that?”

  I didn’t say much except that I needed to talk to the sheriff and that I was the only survivor of the fire. The officer then reached over to a phone on his desk and picked up the receiver and pressed one number before putting the receiver down. “You stay right here, kid. What’s your name by the way?”

  Just as I was about to say my name, two officers bolted out of a side door in the room. “What’s going on, Skylar?” the first officer asked, as he quickly came out of the door.

  “Gentlemen, this is the kid we’ve been looking for who started the fire at that cabin. Take him into custody and put him in cell eight by himself,” the officer from behind the desk said loudly.

  The two officers rushed over to me and placed me under arrest and put handcuffs on me. One of the officers patted me down and then took out my keys from my front pocket and then my wallet from my back pocket. He then proceeded to open my wallet and took out my license. “Yes, sir, this is the kid,” stated the officer who was holding my wallet.

  I protested all of the way down a hallway and then into a room with many doors. I was read my so-called Miranda rights while I was being pushed forward to door number eight. “I need to talk with the sheriff so I can tell him what happened to his guys!” I yelled, as I was pushed into the room. The door slammed shut behind me. “Can you take the handcuffs off me at least?” I yelled, as I turned around to face the door.

  The officers walked away, and I heard their footsteps echo in my cold, white-colored cell. No toilet, bed, or anything to sit on, just a barren jail cell that echoed if you made a sound. I was mad as hell at the way I was treated. I couldn’t believe that none of the officers had asked who I was or for any identification before manhandling me like I was some common criminal. Lucky for me, I was tall and slender, so I could get my hands out from behind my back and to the front by crouching and sliding my wrists under my butt. If I hadn’t done that, I would have been stuck standing the whole time. As it was two or three hours passed before one of the officers came and asked me what my name was. Once I stated that my name was William, the door was unlocked.

  The officer grabbed my arm and stated, “Come with me, tough guy.” He pulled me down the hallway, through a door, and into another small room with a desk and a couple of chairs. The officer then told me to have a seat behind the desk, and someone would be right in to see me. The officer then left the room, leaving the door open.

  I did as the officer told me to do and sat down behind the desk and waited. As I did, I looked around the small room and saw there was a camera in one of the corners with a tiny red light blinking on it. Fifteen minutes or so went by, and two people came into the room. One was wearing a suit, and the other was wearing plainclothes. “Will? My name is Detective O’Reilly with the county attorney’s office, and this gentleman beside me is Lieutenant Allen from the county sheriff’s office. We’d like to ask you a few questions, but first before we do that, do you understand your rights?” Detective O’Reilly asked me.

  I told them I understood my rights and that I wouldn’t need an attorney because everything was true that I was about to state. The two men sat down once I told them that I didn’t need an attorney and got comfortable. At first, they asked basic questions about me, starting with my first and last name, my age, where I was born, who my parents were, what schools I attended, and how I was being treated so far. After spending a few minutes telling
them a few things about me, I wanted to know why I had been arrested. “No one told me why I was arrested. I was just handcuffed and then thrown into the jail cell,” I stated with a bit of anger.

  “Will, you’re being charged with the murder of two county deputies,” stated Lieutenant Allen.

  “Murder? I didn’t kill anyone! I came here to tell the sheriff what really happened, and I didn’t kill anyone!” I said, panicking.

  “Will, two of our deputies were shot to death and then burned in a fire. Your gun was found along with your college ID badge not far from the crime scene. Of course, you didn’t kill anyone; you’re innocent,” stated Lieutenant Allen sarcastically.

  “I don’t own a gun and never have owned a gun,” I stated loudly.

  “Then how is it that your prints are on the handgun, Will?” Lieutenant Allen asked, while cocking his head to the side.

  I sat for a moment and had a flashback of moving Barbra’s gun in her trunk. “Shit, I bet that’s Barbra’s gun. I was helping her with a flat tire, and I moved her gun that was in her trunk. But I don’t know her; she was some stranger who asked for my help at the hotel,” I said worriedly.

  “So, some stranger asked for your help, and after you helped her, she went to the cabin or was that before you helped her?” Lieutenant Allen asked.

  At that moment I knew how it sounded, and I was going to get screwed. “Guys, may I see some form of identification before I go on further?” I asked.

  To my surprise, the two pulled out their credentials, and then I looked them over. “Do the both of you know each other? If so, for how long?” I asked.

  “Will, why are you being so paranoid? You were being so helpful, what changed?” Detective O’Reilly asked.

  “Please answer the questions before I help any further,” I replied.

  “We’ve been around each other for a few years, working for the county,” Lieutenant Allen stated, sounding agitated.

  “When the sheriff comes in, please tell him I would like to see him. I will tell him everything that I know without an attorney,” I stated, sitting back in my chair.

  “What’s wrong with speaking to us? Why do you need to have the sheriff involved, Will?” Lieutenant Allen asked, as he leaned forward in his chair.

  “Those deputies were his men, and the sheriff should hear what happened to them in person. I’m not going to repeat everything over and over again for anyone except for the sheriff,” I stated, and I sat back up in the chair. Just then, the sheriff walked into the room; he was red-faced and mad.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen, I couldn’t help but overhear that this man wanted to speak with me. Lieutenant Allen, would you mind if I step into your place of questioning?” the sheriff asked.

  “No problem, Sheriff, I’ll be outside if anyone needs me,” Lieutenant Allen stated, while getting up from his chair and leaving the room.

  “Now go ahead, son, what is it that is so bad that you need to see me directly besides murdering my deputies?” the sheriff stated, as he sat down next to Detective O’Reilly.

  “Sir, I didn’t murder anyone, and what I am about to tell you is going to put me, my family, and my friend Olivia in grave danger. My family and I are going to need witness protection from our own government. That government building up north that everyone talks about being shadowy is responsible for my friends and your deputies’ deaths. I was told not to say a word to anyone or I’d be killed next to keep my mouth shut. Sheriff, the government did it all up there,” I said, hoping the sheriff would believe me.

  “So, let me get this straight. The government killed everyone, including my deputies, except for you, for whatever reason. You need witness protection from the government because you’re next to be killed. You really haven’t thought this one through, have you, kid?” the sheriff stated sarcastically.

  “Sir, let me start at the beginning before this all happened. My friends and I got to the cabin, and we checked out the place and then went swimming. Steve and Olivia stayed at the lake so they could be alone, and the rest of us went back to the cabin. About fifteen minutes went by, and then we heard Olivia yelling for help from outside the cabin. We all jumped to our feet as Olivia bolted through the door, yelling that our friend Steve had drowned.” I told the sheriff everything that had happened from being at the cabin to what had happened to his deputies to being at the government facilities and what went on at the hotel. I was occasionally interrupted by[pe13] Detective O’Reilly, who asked a few questions.

  “This is some of the deepest shit I have ever heard of. What do you think there, Detective O’Reilly? Are you thinking Will here has been taking some good drugs or maybe some of that bad kind?” the sheriff asked, and then he sat back in his chair and looked over at Detective O’Reilly.

  “Sheriff, I have never heard anything crazy like this in my life. Now I have seen stuff like this in the movies, but not in real life,” Detective O’Reilly stated, looking at the sheriff.

  “Okay, Will, you still haven’t explained why your friends and my deputies were shot. You never mentioned any of that. Why would you murder your friends?” Detective O’Reilly asked.

  “I didn’t shoot anyone; everyone was killed by those spiders, and Olivia is being held at that government building. She called me at my hotel room and is still alive,” I said, getting frustrated. “Look, just look into everything that I’ve said. I’ll even take a polygraph test to clear my name from everything. But here is the problem for me, you all have me in jail, and the government is going to keep an eye on me. If you transfer me to someplace other than here or put someone in the cell with me, I’ll die. I know this all sounds crazy, but the government didn’t mean for those spiders to get out, but they did. They are trying to clean up their mess by killing us off,” I said, trying my best to be convincing.

  “Let’s say that I believe you, Will. Why did the government let you live if they were trying to clean up their mess?” Detective O’Reilly asked.

  “I don’t know, but they put seven hundred thousand dollars in my bank account to keep my mouth shut. You should be able to see who sent that money because it went straight in somehow,” I stated.

  “So, you received seven hundred thousand dollars, and the government let you live, Will?” Detective O’Reilly asked, while laughing. “Sheriff, we have a live one here. Shit, I wish that could happen to me with my bank account. Maybe we should take our boy here to the bank and see what we can pull up, what do you say, Sheriff?” Detective O’Reilly laughed. “Will, I have heard enough of this, so I’m going to excuse myself. However, if you would like to go to your bank with one of my deputies and get a bank statement, then I’ll approve it. When you come back, you will be detained here, and then tomorrow you will see the judge. Are you wanting an attorney now or are you still willing to answer our questions?” the sheriff asked me, as he stood up from his chair.

  “Sheriff, please promise that you will protect me. Those men in that government building will trick you into you giving me up. Once they know that I’ve been arrested, they will be watching. Please don’t tell the news or the newspaper people anything because any of them might be a government person. If they hear that I spilled my guts, then they will make me disappear like Olivia,” I pleaded.

  “Will, if you have proof of that seven hundred thousand dollars, and we can trace it to the government, then I will give you the benefit of the doubt,” the sheriff said, holding onto the door handle to leave.

  “Well, let me go to my bank and prove that that money is in there,” I said, looking at the sheriff.

  “I’m a bit curious about this, Sheriff. Would you mind if I tag along with one of your deputies to the bank?” asked Detective O’Reilly, while getting up from his chair to stand.

  “Sure, I’ll be right back with someone to get you there,” replied the sheriff, as he opened the door and walked out.

  “Will, if that money is in there, and we can positively identify that it was sent to your account from the government, you
will at least have a good start to your defense,” said Detective O’Reilly.

  “I have a part of it in my bag in the car. I could only withdraw fifty thousand of it at one time,” I stated, trying to help my defense.

  “Wait, you have fifty thousand dollars just sitting in your car?” Detective O’Reilly asked, surprised.

  I told him everything that had transpired at the bank and why I was going to withdraw the whole amount that was given to me. Detective O’Reilly wanted to see the cash, so I told him that I had left my car open, and he could go get it. According to Detective O’Reilly, I wasn’t allowed to be by myself, so we would get the bag on the way outside. An officer walked up to our doorway and stated that he was going to be our driver to the bank. The officer then walked over to me and told me to stand up and escorted me by my arm out of the room. Detective O’Reilly told the officer that we were going to go to my car and pick up a bag that should contain money in it as evidence. We walked down a hallway and then to the front doors of the building. Before going out the glass doors, I could see a vehicle parked out front that looked identical to the government vehicle that had been there earlier.

  “Stop!” I yelled and pulled away from the officer, who was holding my arm. I started walking backwards as I said, “The government is here to get me. Look at the car out front; it has government plates on it!”

  Detective O’Reilly looked out the door while my escort officer grabbed my arm, not knowing what was going on. “They are coming to get me, Detective O’Reilly. Somehow they’re going to say that I belong to them!”

  Just as I said that, I saw a man get out of the government car and walk toward the steps to the building. “Are we still going to the bank, Detective O’Reilly or are we going to wait and see what this guy is up to?” the escort officer asked.