by C S Allen
“So, let me get this straight. Scorched trees from a napalm flamethrower, scorpions, spiders, government men, just a ten-second video of Will by himself, no video of a break in when I bet there are cameras all around that place, no access for anyone at that facility except the workers, and roving armed men. This is some sci-fi, The Outer Limits shit that makes me think there are aliens at Roswell for Christ sakes,” the sheriff stated, as he looked at Detective O’Reilly with a smile and a shake of his head.
“Will, if you didn’t know, we are investigating our deputies’ deaths also. There’s some discrepancy in the helicopter crash that we are investigating. That helicopter was burned just like everything else, but there were bullet holes just under the pilot’s seat. We could only count five holes, and they were fired from a shotgun that was found. Now, how could that chopper get bullet holes from Olivia’s rifle, did she shoot at it?” Mr. O’Reilly asked, looking puzzled.
“That helicopter was hovering over the trees, looking for us since we started a fire in the front yard. We needed to start that fire so the police could find us out there. Then the spider that was on the tree hit the helicopter with its webbing, and that made it crash. No one shot at the helicopter, and in fact, the deputy survived it and tried to help us. If someone is saying that the deputy was shot down and his seat was hit with rifle fire, then he should have bullet wounds, right? I bet those government bastards didn’t think of putting the deputy back in the crashed helicopter. Hell, that helicopter was too high in the trees to get a dead man back up into it and then shoot the helicopter. I think everyone needs to take a close look at the medical examiner’s report on who has wounds and where they are on their bodies,” I stated, looking at the sheriff.
“Will, you’re a bright young man; maybe you should get into forensics instead of getting that degree in engineering,” Detective O’Reilly stated nicely.
“While I think about it, can I get a pen and paper to write a lot of these things down to help my defense?” I asked the sheriff. The sheriff and Detective O’Reilly left after we were done talking, and I received the pen and paper from Gus, who threw them into my cell. I wanted to say, ‘thank you, asshole,’ but I kept it to myself and decided to complain about him to my attorney. I sat on the bed for a couple of hours, still feeling grungy, and wrote questions down and wrote everything that I could remember of that one day. I had so many questions about my friends and the deputies’ bodies. Questions about bullets and where they were found, questions about the guns and rifle used, questions about the burn patters and what they meant.
While I was still in thought, I heard the jail door open with that damn screeching sound and a bunch of footsteps coming. It looked like a mob of people at my jail cell as Gus opened it.
“You’re free to go, Will,” Gus stated, as he held the door open.
My mother, father, Mr. Morin, and another person who I didn’t know stood outside my cell as I walked out. My mother gave me a hug and then my dad hugged me. Mr. Morin extended his hand to shake mine, but I gave him a hug also. “Get me out of here so I can be free, and so that no one spits in my food anymore, right Gus?” I stated, as I looked at Gus.
No one spit in your food; now get out of here,” Gus said with a red face.
All of us walked out of the sheriff’s building and then over to my parent’s car. “Will, the sheriff is keeping the money that you had for evidence in your case. They also have that printout of who gave you the money. In an hour, I will be coming over to your parent’s house to speak with you about everything, okay?” Mr. Morin stated with a smile.
“Please do, but I may be in the shower, trying to get all of this jail stench off of me when you come by,” I said, while pulling on my shirt.
Then Mr. Morin and the mystery man shook my parents’ hands and said, “See you all in an hour.”
Why didn’t anyone introduce that one guy or did they just forget? I wondered.
“All right, we have our boy back!” my dad said with a smile.
“Okay, let’s get in the car and go home, you two,” my mom stated, as she pointed to the car.
The three of us got in the car and left the sheriff’s parking lot, and I felt free. The sun was out, and I rolled down my window halfway to feel the sixty something degree air.
“Will, how were you treated in the jail?” my dad asked.
“That sheriff’s deputy who opened my cell door was a butt hole. He would slam the jail door on purpose, and the sound echoed so loud in there. Then he told me that he spit on my eggs because he thought I had killed his friends who were deputies. The bed was nasty, with no pillow, and there was nothing to wash myself with,” I replied, looking out the window.
“Well, you know the jail isn’t made to have fun in,” my mother stated, looking back at me.
“Oh, before I forget, who was that guy standing behind everyone? No one introduced me to him; that was kind of rude.”
“Oh yeah, we didn’t introduce him because of the deputy standing there. We didn’t want anyone to know who he is because it’s none of anyone’s business. His name is Paul, and he’s a private investigator and a former FBI agent, Will. We have a new friend who has contacts in the government, and he is going to prove that you’re innocent. So far Paul has said that the government facility is a Department of Defense laboratory that is involved in weaponry. In other words, they are working on making weapons up there,” my dad replied.
“So, when I tell him about the spiders, he won’t freak out, right?” I asked my parents.
“We told him everything you had told us, and he did seem a bit surprised,” my mom said, looking at my dad.
“How did I get out of jail, Dad? Who paid the three hundred thousand dollars?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about it, kid, we got you covered. Just don’t go jumping bail on us,” my dad replied, looking into the rearview mirror at me.
When we got home, I quickly found some clean clothes in my room and then took a shower. When I got out, I could smell that my mother had been cooking, and it made me hungry. I quickly got dressed and headed down the stairs to see what she had made. “Mom, what did you cook? It smells good!” I said, as I got to the bottom step.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Will, don’t answer the door; look out the window to see who it is,” my dad said from where he was sitting in his chair. I looked out the peephole instead and saw a news van and a woman in front of our door.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Dad, it’s a news channel, what do we do?” I asked nervously.
“I’ll get it, Will. Go into the kitchen and stay there until the coast is clear,” my dad replied, getting up from his chair.
I went to the kitchen to see what my mother was cooking and to stay out of sight.
“Who is it at the door, Will?” my mother asked.
“Some reporter from the news. Dad said for me to stay in the kitchen until the coast is clear,” I replied, picking at my mother’s cooked food.
“Paul told us that this was going to happen,” my mother said, shaking her head.
We heard the living room door close, and then my father’s footsteps coming to the kitchen. “Well, I handled that crap. Channel Thirteen News wanted to ask Will some questions about what happened, and I nicely told them to go away. Paul said that this was going to happen,” my dad stated, shaking his head.
My mother and I started laughing, so I told my father, “That’s what Mom just said.”
We grabbed some of the lunch my mother had made and went into the dining room to eat. While eating, my parents discussed how Mr. Morin and Paul were going to defend me in court. Paul had plans on doing some kind of stake out at the government facility, and Mr. Morin was going to contact the people who stated I had broken in. Then our phone started ringing.
“Who do you suppose that is, guys? The newspaper, another television station, or something to do with our boy Will, any guesses?” my dad asked us.
“I bet it has someth
ing to do with me and the press,” I replied with a smirk on my face.
“So, who’s going to get it?” my mother said, as she turned to get up.
“Let the answering machine get it,” my dad replied.
Just then, the answering machine turned on, and the person on the phone surprised us all. “Hello, my name is Gloria Sevey, and I’m hoping I have the right number for William. My son’s name is Mike Sevey, who was killed by someone, and I need answers,” Gloria stated. She definitely sounded upset.
I think I may have stopped breathing when I heard Mike’s mother on the phone. My mother and father stared at each other without blinking like they were mannequins listening to the answering machine.
“If this number is William’s, please call me back at the number provided by your called ID,” Gloria stated and then hung up. The answering machine then beeped to say that we had a message.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” I said sadly.
“As sad as she sounds, no one is calling her back. I know it may be hard for you, Will, but the moment she talks to you, she won’t believe a thing you say. Who in their right mind would believe that giant spiders killed their son? Hell, I’m still in a bit of denial about this whole thing since it’s as crazy as it sounds, but I trust you, Will. I’m proud to have you as my son, and we will get through this soon. Now, let’s change our number because more people are going to call us,” my dad stated.
When we were clearing our plates in the kitchen, Mr. Morin and Paul came by, and we all had a meeting in the living room. Paul stated he was investigating the names of the people who worked at the government facility that I had given to Mr. Morin. He was checking the vehicle license plate numbers as well. Mr. Morin asked me to go over the whole story again from when I left the dorms with everyone to me coming back home. He explained that he wanted to make sure he didn’t miss anything, plus Paul hadn’t heard the whole story before. The meeting took three hours because of the many questions that were asked, and I hated it. I held back my tears the best that I could while I retold the horrible time and what I had seen. Paul was very helpful by telling me that it was okay to cry. He explained that he had gone through many tragic events in his lifetime, and that it was good to let out the stress and sadness.
My mom brought over a box of tissues when she saw me tear up.
“Will, I assure you and your parents that the government is trying to weaponize anything they can get their hands on. From little remote-control cars to flying airplanes that can drop in on the bad guys. Imagine sending out remote-control cars like in a video game and then blowing them up once they get to the bad guys. Sounds pretty cool, right? Believe it or not, but way back in World War Two, the Germans had big remote-controlled vehicles. One more thing I will tell you folks before I go is that I believe Will one hundred percent. Will comes from a well-managed home with good parents. Will has never been in trouble with the law; he has been an excellent student in all of his public schools and now with three years of college. Someone doesn’t just go out on a random killing spree without having some type of a bad past. So, this murder investigation and the so-called break in at the government building sounds like a cover-up. So, having said all of that, I have some more work to do,” Paul stated. Then he stood up to leave.
Mr. Morin hadn’t said much because he wanted to bring Paul by to show him our house and to hear my story. I felt so overwhelmed with the up- and down- roller-coaster ride of being accused of something I didn’t do to hearing that someone other than my parents believed me. We walked the two to the door and thanked them for coming by and helping us. Mr. Morin shook my hand and said that we would get through this and not to worry. Paul then shook my hand and stated that he would find some things that would prove my innocence.
Ring, ring, ring.
“Any guesses who’s calling now?” my mother asked, as I closed the door behind our guests.
“I bet it’s someone bugging us,” I replied.
“Let’s do the same thing again and let the answering machine pick up,” my dad stated, as we walked over to the phone to listen in.
The answering machine picked up, and it was my aunt on the phone, so my mother grabbed it before she hung up. My dad and I retreated to the living room and sat down, listening to my mother tell my aunt how things were going with my court case.
My dad looked over at me and said, “We’re going to get through this stuff, Will. You have some really good guys pulling for you. Especially Paul, he told us some really crazy stuff that he investigated before, and when we told him what was going on, he didn’t even blink a lash. With his background and with all his friends still working for the FBI, they’ll check this out and come back with something for your defense. As I think about it, he’ll probably tell us it’s some national defense crap and only certain clearances in the government can know about it.”
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
“Who is it now?” I asked, jumping out of my chair.
“Will, look out the window and let me know what you see outside,” my dad stated, as he got up from the couch and went to the door.
I went over to the window curtain and slowly moved it just a bit for my eyes to look out. “Shit, Dad, it’s two guys from the government; they’re dressed up in suits. Their car license plates show government on it,” I stated, stressing out.
“It’s okay, Will, I want you to calm down and I’ll take care of it,” my dad said, looking at me. “Who is it?” my dad yelled through the door.
“Sir, my name is Special Agent Sanborn from the FBI. May we speak with William or are you him?” the agent asked.
“What is it that you want, I’m Will’s dad,” my father asked.
“Sir, we have a warrant for your son’s arrest in reference to a break in. We would like to handle this in a polite and safe manner for all of us involved. So, if you could, please open the door and let us talk like gentlemen,” the agent stated.
“Dad, call our attorney before they take me away,” I stated nervously.
“Okay, Agent Sanborn, I agree with what you are saying, and if you will be patient with me for ten minutes, I’ll get back with you. I’m calling our attorney to be present to read your warrant before taking my son,” my dad stated, looking at me with a wink.
“Okay, ten minutes will be fine; we will be here waiting,” the agent replied.
“Well, we figured this was going to happen,” my dad said, as he walked over to the phone.
“What was going to happen? I thought we already did everything, Dad,” I stated.
“The FBI is here to arrest you for the so-called break in at that government building. We went to court because of the murder charges against you, and now the FBI is here for part two,” my father replied.
I was not prepared for a part two as my father called it. I was afraid all over again like nothing ever took place at court. I was going to be taken away and put in jail all over again. My mother and father came back into the living room, and my father was on the phone with our attorney. My mother came over to look out the window and could see the men standing on the porch.
“God, they just don’t give up, do they?” my mother said, still looking outside. My father walked back into the bedroom, and I couldn’t hear the conversation he was having. “Will, we will get you out as soon as we can, okay?” my mother said, while giving me a hug.
When my father came back to hang the phone up, he didn’t look happy. “Will, we have to open the door and let these men arrest you. We have to go to court all over again and have a hearing like we did already.”
When my father said that, my stomach sank, and I was scared all over again.
“Why is this bull crap happening all over again?” my mother said. “Why is this bull crap happening all over again?”
My mother’s voice kept going in my head, and then all of a sudden, things got dark.
Chapter Sixteen
I felt like I was passing out, and then I was in a bed. Somehow, and
I didn’t know why, I was then talking to a woman. “How long has it been exactly?” I asked the woman sitting beside me.
“It’s been three years since you’ve been in a coma, Will,” the woman stated.
“What? Why? What happened to me? Where are my parents?” I asked. I was worried that this woman was lying.
“Will, we have been over this before, try to remember, okay?” the woman said.
“Been over what before? This is the first time I’ve told what I can remember, and I don’t even know who you are. Where am I? What the hell is going on here!” I replied. I was getting angry and I tried to sit up, but was restrained in the bed.
“Whoa, okay, okay, I’ll tell you, just take it easy,” the woman by my side replied, as she stood up from a chair. “You were bitten by a spider while you were in custody. The spider’s toxic venom caused you to go into a coma, and here we are three years later,” the woman replied.
“A spider? Of course, I was bitten by a spider! They did it to me; they tried to kill me! I told you what happened to my friends, and now they’re trying to shut me up! Where am I?” I asked angrily.
“You’re in a hospital,” the woman replied.
“And who are you?” I asked the woman.
“I am Doctor Feinstein, a psychologist assigned to you,” the doctor stated.
“So, can someone call my parents for me and tell them I’m awake?” I asked.
“Will, your parents passed away while you were in a coma. They had a car accident two years ago in the winter; they slid off the road and hit a tree,” she stated.
“I don’t believe you. This is all part of the government conspiracy to get me to keep quiet. You’re one of them, I’m guessing. And this hospital is a governmental hospital, isn’t it?” I asked still angry.
“Yes, this is a government facility, but it’s a state hospital not a federal hospital,” Doctor Feinstein replied.
“Why am I strapped down?” I asked, while trying to wiggle out of the sheets.
“Will, you have shown aggression ever since you came out of your coma. When you woke up, you were angry and fought with the doctors and nurses. We had to secure you for everyone’s safety,” she replied.
