They Came After Me

by C S Allen

  “Bring Will back to the room and stay with him,” Detective O’Reilly said.

  I was glad to get away from whoever that guy was and go back to the room. I stayed in that room for over an hour without talking to the officer, who was escorting me. He seemed to not want to know what was going on and just sat in one of the chairs, keeping an eye on me. The door opened suddenly, and it was the sheriff standing in the doorway.

  “Gus, you can go back to your regular duties, thank you for watching him,” the sheriff stated, as the officer got up and left the room. “Will, you’re right, that was a government official looking into your case. Can you tell me what you were doing on their property again? It seems that they do want to get ahold of you,” the sheriff stated.

  I told the whole story over again while the sheriff stood there in the room. He never once interrupted me or asked questions while I repeated everything in detail.

  “Well, let me tell you what this man said that you and your friends did. You were observed inside their facility, looking at top-secret items that they are working on. So, you are correct in the fact that you were inside the government building. They have you on video inside their building and then inside a room that was top secret. Right now, they know that you are here in jail because you surrendered yourself to us. A judge will be deciding in the next twenty-four hours who you belong to for prosecution. You either stay with us for murder or you go with your government friends for breaking and entering. You sure are a busy young man,” the sheriff stated.

  “Sheriff, we have to get my bag and go to the bank so I can prove to you that I am innocent,” I pleaded.

  “I think you should stay here and give us your pin number so we can check your account instead of going out for a drive. What do you think about that?” the sheriff asked sarcastically.

  I agreed with the sheriff to give him my private pin and password so he could check my account on the phone. He then told me to put my hands out on the table so he could lock my handcuffs to it. Once he had done that, he left the room for about thirty or so minutes and then came back with Detective O’Reilly. They both sat down and just looked at me like they were confused and then Detective O’Reilly spoke.

  “I’ve never seen so many zeros in someone’s account in all of my years living on this earth, Will. Where did you say you got this money again?” Detective O’Reilly asked.

  I knew something was up when the detective asked me where the money had come from. “It was from our government to keep my mouth shut about what happened. I think they wanted me to just disappear with the money so that they could blame me for everything, but I didn’t do that, as you can see. I think they went in and burned the whole place down and shot everyone to make it look like I did it, and then I ran away. They told me that they were going to kill Olivia, and they may kill my parents if I don’t keep quiet. I can’t keep quiet because they killed my friends and your officers with those damn spiders. The government has weaponized and grown spiders to kill humans for war time. You have to run tests on those who were killed up there for spider bites and their venom. My friend Emma’s face was bitten by one of those spiders, and whoever does an autopsy will know all of this,” I said, trying to explain everything.

  “Will, there’s no money in your account, son. However, you do have forty-nine thousand and change in your bag that we have seized,” Detective O’Reilly stated, looking disappointed.

  “Oh my God, they friggin’ took it back somehow,” I stated loudly. “Look, we can go to the bank and get a printout of what was in my account for the last month. My friend, who works there as a teller, can prove to you that she even has seen my account amount. Please, you guys, I can prove that it was there; I’m not making this shit up!” I said, pleading.

  The sheriff decided to let me go to the bank one more time, but he was going to go instead of Detective O’Reilly. Detective O’Reilly wanted to check into some things while we were gone and would get back with the sheriff later. The officer named Gus took me and the sheriff to my bank and walked me in like I was a criminal.

  There I was, being looked at by the tellers and my friend, who was at the drive-through window. I wanted to stick my head under my shirt because I was so embarrassed. The sheriff asked to see the bank manager, who showed up within seconds of her being called. The sheriff requested that we take a room with some privacy to get things answered. So, the four of us went into the manager’s office, and then she closed the door behind us. Once everyone had introduced themselves, the sheriff stated that I needed to have a printout of my bank statement to see if there were any deposits or withdrawals. The manager asked if it was okay with me, and I agreed that I needed it done. After giving my name and pin number, the bank manager printed out a copy and passed it over to me.

  “There it is, damn it, I told you that I had the money!” I yelled excitedly to the sheriff.

  The sheriff then took the printout and looked for himself. “Ma’am, can you tell us who sent all of this money and then who withdrew it all?” the sheriff asked the manager.

  The manager then asked me if it was okay, and I responded with, “Hell yes!”

  After about thirty seconds of the manager typing away on her computer, she came back with, “It shows here a special code account sent the money, then Will took out fifty thousand dollars, and then the same special code took the money out today. The code is usually a governmental agency,” the manager stated.

  “You guys, see what I am talking about? They gave me that money, and then they took it out today when I came to see you. They’re watching every move that I make, Sheriff,” I said, feeling nervous.

  “What time did this code account take the money, ma’am?” the sheriff asked.

  “Looks like the time was about two hours ago, Sheriff,” the manager stated.

  “I was with you this whole time, Sheriff. You talked with that one guy who had the car with government plates; I bet he called it in that you have me and took the money back,” I stated.

  The sheriff had gotten the answers that he wanted, so he excused us and we left leave the bank. Once we got in the car, the sheriff surprised me by saying that he wasn’t going to give me up to the government officials if they came to get me. “Will, you said that my deputies were killed by these big spiders that attack people. Where did the spiders go after killing them?” the sheriff asked.

  “Sheriff, when they killed my friend, one was in the water and then disappeared, and the other one retreated into the trees,” I replied.

  “You said that one was killed and left on the beach and baby spiders came out of it. [pe14]Where did these baby spiders end up?” the sheriff asked.

  “They went everywhere once they got out. There were about six to ten of them that went in all directions. A couple of them ended up getting on my friend Olivia, and they bit her,” I replied sadly.

  “So, you say that nothing was on fire until these government people started the fire in the woods?” the sheriff asked.

  “They had what looked like those World War Two flamethrowers I saw on TV years ago. Those guys torched the cabin and whatever else they could burn. I thought they were going after the spiders, but all I could see was a guy burning the cabin,” I replied.

  After a short ride back to the sheriff’s office, I panicked when I saw two vehicles at the police department with government license plates on them. “Sheriff, do you see who’s here with those license plates?” I asked fearfully.

  “Will, no one will be taking you from me; I’m starting to see what you’ve been talking about,” the sheriff stated. The sheriff then asked our driver to swing around back and to put me in cell number eight. “Gus, you stay with Will outside of his cell until I come and get you. Do not let anyone near him who doesn’t work for us, got it?” the sheriff said sternly.

  “You got it, boss,” Gus replied, as we stopped at the back entrance.

  “I’m heading to the front to make those G men think that Will isn’t here,” the sheriff stated, a
s he got out of the car and walked toward the front of the building.

  Gus got me out of the back seat and escorted me into the back of the building. Cell number eight was at the back door so it was a simple walk in and then turn right into the jail cell. Gus closed the cell door and then started down the hallway, waiting for something else to happen.

  “Hey Gus, did you know those officers who died?” I asked sadly.

  “Yeah, I knew one of the two,” Gus stated.

  “Gus, they were good guys, and I met one of them before he was killed. That one officer saved Olivia’s life; she wouldn’t be alive without him. They came out to help us, and those damn spiders killed almost everyone,” I said softly.

  Gus then turned to look at me in the cell with an angry look on his face. “We’re called deputies, not officers, you dipshit. And I don’t believe your bullshit story of spiders. Just keep your damn mouth shut while you’re around me, you got that?” Gus whispered loudly.

  “No problem,” I replied, backing away from the cell door. I sat down on the floor, thinking of everything that had happened in the past few hours. Does the sheriff finally believe me or is he just putting on a show for a second or two? How did the government take the money out of my account? What are they talking about out front? Will the sheriff protect me?

  After about an hour, I heard the door open at the other end of the jail cell area. It squeaked open like the hinges were rusted. I heard someone walking down my way as the footsteps became louder. “Hey Sheriff, everything all right?” Gus asked.

  “Yeah, I had to call in the big dog to handle those two dipshits who came for Willy boy here,” the sheriff stated, as he stopped in front of my cell and looked in at me. “Will, those men who came here were after you, and I put a stop to it. Are you playing with me, son, or are you being honest with us? Because if I find out that you’re playing me as a fool, I swear to you that I’ll let Gus beat your ass. He thinks that you’re screwing with all of us since you came up with that spider story. Now let me ask you something, Will, what did the government vehicles look like that came to rescue you all?” the sheriff asked sternly.

  I told him everything that I could remember, as best that I could about the vehicles, that one of the license plates had just two numbers on it, the dark tint on the limo windows, what the men looked like, and what the inside looked like of the vehicle that I had been in. “Sheriff, everything that I just told you can be verified easily with that plate number,” I replied.

  “Did you hear any names during your ride or in the government building?” the sheriff asked.

  “Hell yeah, there was a Tom, Michelle, Maggie, and a Doctor Ford who I was introduced to or heard their name given. Tom was a big man who looked like a football player; Michelle was my so-called escort in the building; Maggie I think was a secretary; and Doctor Ford was a scientist of some kind. He asked me a few questions about how the spiders responded to meeting us at the cabin,” I replied.

  “Well, Will, I’m going to give all of this info to Detective O’Reilly, and he will check into it, I’m sure. Are you hungry or need to use the bathroom?” the sheriff asked.

  “If I’m going to stay in a jail cell[pe15], I’d like to be in one that has everything I need. I feel a bit frustrated because I don’t belong in jail. My friends and I went to the cabin and were attacked by those government things. They killed your two deputies, three of my friends, and maybe a fourth,” I replied.

  “Will, you have to see it from our perspective. A burned-down cabin, five people found dead with bullet holes in them, a found handgun that has your prints on them, your ID badge, and you somehow walked away from it all unscathed. We’re supposed to believe there are these spiders, as big as a small horse, running around up there, but there’s nothing there to support your claim. Now I shouldn’t have told you that they were shot, but you may have already known that,” the sheriff stated, looking at me sternly.

  “Sheriff, why would the government try and steal me from your custody? How am I that important for them to do that? They want to shut me up and put the blame on me,” I stated.

  The sheriff just stared at me like he was looking through my soul. “Will, it’s going to be a little while before Detective O’Reilly or I come back for more questioning. We can only hold you for so long before you see the judge, and tomorrow is the day to see him. Let’s try to get some answers today and keep you overnight for your own safety,” the sheriff stated, as he was about to leave.

  “W . . . wait, how can you explain the helicopter that crashed down into the trees? I can’t shoot down a helicopter if I have a gun. And what about the spiderwebs all over the trees, did you see them? And the lake, the lake had a spider in it, please look in there around the algae, that’s where it was!” I said, desperately trying to get the sheriff to think.

  “Gus, put Will in cell number six and get him some food to eat, will yeah, I’ll be in my office if you need me,” the sheriff stated and then walked away.

  Gus took me out of my cell and then put me in another one. I didn’t pay attention to what number I was in because they were almost all the same. At least I had a bunk bed, a sink, and a toilet to use while I waited for the next day to arrive. A few hours went by, and Gus never gave me any food. I was starting to get aggravated because I was by myself, hungry, and couldn’t see outside. The cell that I was in was very small, and it felt like the walls were closing in on me. To keep myself busy, I measured the size of the room with my feet and counted the concrete blocks while lying on the bed. After that whole fifteen minutes of counting, I had to figure out what I hadn’t told the sheriff. Was there something missing that I had forgotten about? Maybe the sheriff believes my story and is just keeping me in the cell to protect me from the G-men, as he called them, and I just don’t know it? I gave up everything that happened, and those big bad spiders were not to be believed, especially when everything was burned to the ground. If I had a gun, where did I get it? Were my fingerprints on the trigger or other parts of it? If I killed my friends, why did we send out a distress signal on the radio? Wait a second, Olivia got on the radio before we got separated, so the dispatcher has to know that there was a female calling for help. What about the pilot? Did he call anything in like a Mayday when he got struck by the spider’s webbing? Were there bullet holes in the helicopter? What about the rifle we had, was it recovered? Did anyone do an autopsy and find out if my friends were shot before or after they died? What about my friends’ parents? Were they worried or did they know anything yet? If the spider project was so important, why would the government let me live and not kill me and Olivia?

  I heard the door open to the jail room and a bunch of footsteps walking in my direction. I got up from the bed and looked out between the bars to see Gus and my two parents.

  “Will, oh my God, my poor baby is locked up like a criminal,” my mom said, as the three of them stopped in front of the cell.

  “Folks, you have fifteen minutes with your son, and I’ll be right outside the door,” Gus stated and then walked away.

  “Hi Mom, Dad. I’ve told them everything I know, and they think I killed my friends and their two deputies,” I said, looking at my parents.

  The sheriff had already spoken with my parents and told them what I was being held for and the many charges. My dad told me that he had explained to the sheriff that I had never held a gun, let alone fired one, and all of the charges were bogus. Lucky for me that my dad and the sheriff were army Vietnam veterans because they both knew about the CIA. My dad explained that back in 1969, the CIA had done some things that were questionable and spooky.

  “They could make people disappear or make it look like one person had killed another in Vietnam if they wanted to,” my dad said. The point my dad was trying to make to the sheriff was that this incident sounded like a government cover-up, and they were pinning everything on me. “A boy and his friends went out to have fun at a lake cabin and were attacked by something the government created. The governme
nt doesn’t need the publicity, so they mop up everything, and then blame the only survivor. They claim the boy had a falling out with his friends, and he killed them all in the cabin and set fire to it. One deputy was shot and killed, as he arrived at a tree roadblock, and the other was shot down while hovering over the tree line in a helicopter. All the bodies, including the officers in their vehicles, were burned beyond recognition because of the intense fire,” my dad said, looking above me like he was reading it off the wall.

  “This is nuts; I don’t believe a damn thing. Will didn’t kill anyone, and whoever thinks that, well, they can kiss my ass!” my mother said to my dad, surprising me.

  Before my parents had to leave, I asked my dad for his watch and to make sure that I would get food since Gus hadn’t brought me anything.

  “Here’s my watch, and we’ll make sure you get food, Will. What I would really like to do is get you an attorney; these guys are pros at putting people behind bars,” my dad stated, looking disappointed.

  “I don’t need an attorney yet, Dad. Right now, I’m claiming I’m innocent, and they have to prove that I’m guilty. There’s no way they can say one person did all of this, especially me, of all people,” I said with a positive attitude.

  “We will have an attorney ready for you when he is needed, okay, son?” my dad said.

  After a few more minutes, Gus opened the door from down the way and told us that our time was up. My mom had tears in her eyes and told me that this would be over soon, but I knew better. She took hold of my hand that was holding the cell door and kissed it. “I love you, Will, and we will see you tomorrow,” my mom said, as the two of them walked away. Then I heard the door close behind them.

  About a half hour later, the door to the jail screeched opened again, and I heard footsteps coming down my way. It was Gus with a plate full of food, and he told me to stand away from the cell door so he could open it. Once Gus opened the door and handed me the plate, he said, “I hope you choke on it, asshole.” Then he walked back out of the cell and slammed the door. “You’re lucky we don’t have the death penalty in this state because I would enjoy watching you die,” Gus stated and then walked away. I looked down at my plate and noticed that he hadn’t given me any utensils.