Caught in the Web Read online

  CAUGHT IN THE WEB

  (INVISIBLE SPIDERS BOOK 2)

  BY

  JASON R. DAVIS

  FoF PUBLISHING

  Published by

  FoF Publishing

  1526 Kenilworth Ct.

  Suite #1

  Stoughton, WI 60115

  © 2015 by Jason R. Davis

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic and print editions, and do not participate in or encourage any form of piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Please visit us online at http://fofpublishing.com

  Jason Davis website can be found at http://jasonrdavis.net

  Edited by: Kim Young

  Cover Illustration by

  SnS-Photo (Jim Sorfleet)

  Cover Model: Kat McGill Mayer

  Zombies: James Caraway and Val Antuna

  Special Effects Makeup: James Caraway

  Set Design: James Caraway and Ken Spriggs

  Copyright 2015

  Dedicated to my mother

  While there are similarities to her place of business, it is used as a reference only. None of the actions in this book or any actions that take place are meant to represent certain people. All people, actions, and accounts are fictional.

  Except for Sullivan. He is a real person, and thank you for allowing me to use your name and personality in this piece of fiction

  PROLOGUE

  That couldn’t be what he thought it was. He heard them, the pop-pop-pop, and knew it must be firecrackers. It was the middle of the day in July. People had plenty left over from the Fourth, and it wasn’t all that uncommon for them to be going off at any time of day. Kids running around, playing with M-80’s or quarter sticks… That had to be what he heard, and they were probably doing it right outside the store. That’s why he heard it all the way in the back room.

  BJ picked the box up off the shelf, looking to make sure it had the right spark plug label. The room was dark, and he was back there in what seemed like the caverns of the store. It was bright outside, and he was back there in the depths, looking through their stock of auto parts, gathering what his customer was waiting for. He was in there while kids ran around outside, letting off fireworks. Damn, he wished he could be out there.

  It had to be fireworks. There was just no way, no matter how much it sounded like it, that it could be gunshots. They were too close to the town. Gunshots, no matter what time, would ever fly in town. It didn’t matter if the chief was on duty or not. He would still bring down harsh justice if someone was out there shooting.

  Yeah, BJ thought to himself as he continued to walk up from the back of the store, carrying the boxes of spark plugs to cash register, it has to be firecrackers. Kids are just playing around outside.

  He set the box down on the counter and looked up at the man waiting for them. Dog, a large man who wore a small, too tight shirt that may have been green at one time, stood there. As he started to ring up his purchase, BJ had to try not to look at the “spare tire” that Dog was itching.

  “So what you doing after you get done tuning her up?” BJ said, trying not to look up at the hat, the old red “Budweiser” hat that had once also contained the numbers of Dale Earnhardt, Jr.…until someone had taken the time to work the numbers off. BJ still remembered when Dog, on a drunk summer night around a bonfire, had cut the numbers off after Earnhardt had switched companies and was no longer driving for the beer company. Dennis…or Dog, as he liked to be called…had used a knife he kept in his tackle box and had cut his hand open pretty good. He had been drunk enough to not realize it until the task had been done.

  Dog really wasn’t the brightest when it came to everyday tasks, but when it came to cars, the man could tear one down to its head gasket and put it back together again while he was still hung over.

  “Planning on taking the party barge out over to Illini and dropping a few lines. You workin’ tomorrow? I can hold off until you get outta here. Grab another case and you can pitch a tent.”

  It was a good thought. Get out of town and under the stars for the weekend. Occasionally, there would be some guys out there at Illini State Park that were known to play some bluegrass, and it wasn’t uncommon to get everyone in the campground around one fire. Bluegrass wasn’t BJ’s music of choice, but when you’re camping out and someone is playing live music, it is hard not to sit back and enjoy. And between songs, there would be the bullshit that would fly and laughs would be shared.

  Then they would be the ones firing off the quarter sticks. He still had a box of Black Cats he had brought back from Indiana, as well as a few other good noise makers. Ha, there wasn’t anything better than throwing a pack in the fire and watching as people scattered when they went off…unless it was when you lit a firecracker and let it go off right under someone’s chair. It was a good time to sit back, nearly falling out of your own chair as you watched them jump out of theirs.

  Of course, it was because of firecrackers that BJ knew he couldn’t ask Dog if he had heard the kids outside. Dog could barely hear anything after the M-80 accident when they were kids. Thinking about it, putting Dog’s head into a garbage can, then dropping an M-80 in there might not have been the best of ideas. Dog had lost a portion of his hearing, as well as more of what little sense he had to begin with.

  “That does sound like a good idea. Anyone else you know gonna be out there?”

  BJ rang up the items, adding in his discount and knocking the price down to cost. After all, BJ was the only one working in the store for the time being as Cindy was late, and he knew that no one would probably catch it.

  “That’ll be $10.80, Dog.”

  “Shit, Beej. Can’t you do anything for me? Throw some shit in for free? Hook a brotha up.”

  “Man, I’m already hookin’ you up. Now shut up before someone comes in here and catches on.”

  Dog was putting on a show of acting like he was having trouble finding his wallet. Of course this was a show as he wanted BJ to go ahead and outright pay for the damn things, but BJ had been through this many times before. He knew he just had to wait it out with this friend and, eventually, the old torn-up leather wallet would emerge and money would be produced.

  BJ never knew why Dog did this every time. The man made more money than he did. Dog had a good job at the car dealership down the road because he was one hell of a mechanic, even on those damn foreign jobs he had to work on all day. Still, anytime they were anywhere, he always acted as though he never had any money and was always trying to get anyone else to pay for him.

  It was another of the many reasons the man still had no woman. They never want to date someone who was always acting as though they were broke.

  “Come on. I need to save up. Unless you’re goin’ to be bringin’ the beer?”

  Now he was bringing the beer when he hadn’t even said he was coming out there yet? This was how the man always talked him into doing all that crap for which he was always getting into trouble. It always started out like this.

  BJ heard it again. Louder and more distinct this time, and there was now no way he could say it was some kids or a car backfiring. Those were definitely gunshot
s, and from the look BJ saw on Dog’s face, he knew that Dog had heard them.

  He wasn’t sure what he was doing, what he was even thinking he was going to do, but when he heard the little artificial bell from the door alarm, he realized he was moving, hurrying to see what was going on. He wished he could say it was to do something heroic, but he knew it had more to do with him wanting to see what was happening, rather than the possibility he was going out there to help someone.

  BJ didn’t have to look behind him to know Dog was on his heels. He could almost feel the large man’s mass following behind him. When he wanted to, the big man could really move.

  BJ reached the parking lot and slowed, looking around. The auto store faced the main street, but most of the strip mall was around the side where the larger part of the parking lot was. He could see the stoplight, as well as a fast food joint, a hotel, and a golf course. There wasn’t a lot of traffic, especially for afternoon on a summer day, but he really didn’t see many people out, either. There was nothing that seemed like it could have been the cause of the gunshots.

  Dog hurried to his truck parked in the handicap spot in front of the store. Yeah, Dog was handicapped all right. Handicapped in the head, BJ thought.

  Dog opened the door with a loud creak, then BJ noticed that he was still carrying the box of plugs. He tossed them on his passenger seat as he was bending over, reaching for something under the seat.

  “Those were semi-automatics. Sounded pretty weak.”

  Hearing more gunshots, BJ spun. The echo off the stillness made it a little difficult to pinpoint exactly where they were coming from, but if he had to guess, he’d say they were coming from around the side of the building.

  “Yeah, police issue,” Dog said, standing back up and holding a double-barreled sawed-off shotgun. BJ knew that the thing wouldn’t have a long range, but considering where Dog pulled it from, it wasn’t meant to shoot too far. Oh, no. That was meant to decapitate anyone who ever tried to get into Dog’s truck without permission.

  “Which means Mandy might be in trouble,” Dog said as he looked from the gun to BJ.

  “Man, don’t you think we should go check it out first?”

  “Mandy might be in trouble.”

  “Yeah, and she’s just as likely to bust your ass and put you in the drunk tank again.”

  Mandy was Dog’s kid sister and was on the local police department. She was part-time, didn’t do much and, for the most part, just went around handing out parking tickets. That made her the most hated young woman in town, which she didn’t let bother her because she had plans to get out of this little shithole, backward ass, anthill of a town one day and go to Peoria, where she could be a real cop. BJ figured if that would ever happen, Dog would be right behind her, probably with his shotgun, ready to shoot anyone that even laid a hand on her.

  Dog was already walking past BJ, nearly pushing him out of the way, no longer paying much attention to him. “I’m not drunk,” Dog grunted to him as he stepped past.

  BJ trailed behind him, and he had a bad feeling he wasn’t going to like whatever they found when they went around the corner.

  CHAPTER 1

  Sarah felt the vibrations of the phone ringing in her suit jacket before she even heard the chirping sound of her cell. She reached for it and slid her finger across the screen, barely even watching as she made the motion. Her alarm had not gone off this morning and she was already running late. It wasn’t her way. She was the tiger lady when it came to tardiness and being late was not in her DNA. It made her want to scream as these people. They just kept trying to step in her way as she crossed the lobby of the large building. Didn’t they realize she was in a hurry?

  “Speak.”

  “Where are you?” She recognized the voice. Morgan was calling, which meant things were not good. Why else would her lab assistant be calling her? There hadn’t been a staff meeting scheduled that she had forgotten about, had there? She couldn’t remember one and knew she would not have scheduled one before her office hours. She only did that in a crisis, and there hadn’t been one when she had left the night before.

  Sarah stepped around the corner of the security desk, barely looking over at the large security officer as she walked past. The machine made a little beep as she swiped her card, but even as her face popped up on the screen, she ignored the security guard. It didn’t matter. Even though she didn’t look up at him, he acknowledged her ID as she rushed through the metal detector. The bank of elevators was in sight just past the hallway.

  She wasn’t looking around. The office building she had been working in for nearly ten years was more familiar to her than her own home. Her lab was on the thirteenth floor. Well, she was one of many scientists and researchers who worked up there, but she only cared about her own.

  The building was a well-designed, large building, windows surrounding the street-level entry. It was like so many of the other downtown office complexes, the only difference being the additional security as soon as you entered. Many probably only noticed that, which was good because then they wouldn’t think about what else was different about the building. Such as that the hallway, decorated in a lavish marble finish, had two rows of elevators. Most would assume both sides were the same. At first glance, they did look a lot alike. Both sides had three gold doors, brightly polished and well-maintained so that nothing ever tarnished the beautiful sheen. Above the elevators on both sides, there was a little display that had a red number to count up or down, depending on which direction the elevator was going. Oh yes, they both looked very similar. They were supposed to.

  It was only when someone looked at the call pad for the elevators that differences could be noticed. When a person would first go to the elevators on the right, they would see the typical call button…a round piece of white frosted plastic, which was a little nicer than many of the other downtown office buildings, with an arrow in the center pointing up.

  It was when a person went to the elevators on the left that things changed. The pad didn’t have a button. It had a black box much like the number counter above the elevators on the other side of the hallway.

  Sarah walked up to it and positioned her thumb in its center, feeling the little tingle of electricity that came to life beneath her thumb. There was a brief sensation of heat, then a pricking feeling, then she pulled her thumb away.

  In that brief second, her thumb had been scanned, and her fingerprint recorded and verified with a sample of her blood. Once the sample was done, the blood was discarded and the needle would be sanitized with fire and alcohol.

  Once her identity and the fact that she was alive when the scan was made was verified, the door would open. It was just an extra level of security. With what was held in her labs, and what they had access to in her part of the building, there was never enough security. There would never be enough, but they still fought to do as much as they could. If what was up there was to ever get out, there was much to lose and many could die. There would never be enough security to keep that safe.

  Finally, the scans finished, the center door opened. Sarah held back just a second, waiting as Morgan was still on the phone.

  “You need to get to the airport,” Morgan was saying.

  “How soon?” It was uncommon for them to be told to get onto a flight. She didn’t like when it happened but, typically, they would have called her while she was at home, tell her to get some things together, and they would have left that evening. Or she would get the call the night before and would meet her team at the airport in the morning.

  “The team is already on its way to the airport. We leave in a half-hour. I’m on my way out of the lab right now.”

  Sarah was flabbergasted. There was no way they could get to the airport in a half-hour! It just wasn’t feasible.

  “I’ll meet you down here,” Sarah said. She watched as the door to the elevator closed in front of her. Something was happening, and it wasn’t good.

  “Meet me on the roof. The chopper
will be here in five.” Sarah could hear the larger woman already wheezing and knew she was already out of breath. It wasn’t that Morgan was out of shape, but she was a terrible asthmatic. Between the stress of whatever was going on and having to rush around, it was probably making it near impossible for her to breathe. Sarah wanted to tell her to take a minute and calm down, but she didn’t know what was going on, so she didn’t think it would be a good idea for her to have the woman slow down.

  She lowered the phone from her ear and looked at herself in the reflection of the elevator. On most days, she considered herself to be a decent-looking woman. She was older, her hair now had to be colored dark brown as, over the last few years, silver had started to intrude. She was still slim with a nice shape. At one time, she had been concerned about how small and pointed her nose had been, but she had grown to like its charm. After all, it made her think of Sarah Jessica Parker from Sex in the City. A show that, for a long time, had been one of her favorite guilty pleasures.

  Parker had made her much happier about the way she looked. Change the hair color and she felt like she looked like her most days. For work, she would often wear a sensible business suit with a modest skirt…not too high to be seductive, but not too low to be Amish.

  Sure, she wasn’t a guy grabber, but she felt that had more do to with her not having time for them, and not for her lack of looks. She just never tried.

  However, as she was looking at herself in the elevator doors, she seemed to look a lot more rugged now. Maybe it was the scared, dark look on her face, or maybe it was how her shoulders, often straight and confident, now slumped a little.

  Get your shit together, Sarah, she thought to herself as she reached out her finger again, and was scanned for clearance one more.

  Whatever was waiting for her up in that chopper, wherever they were taking her, she knew it wasn’t good. Why hadn’t they called her first? They had probably called her office, Eric expecting her normal early arrival. She had that “first person in the office” attitude, and it was known throughout the building. It went with the whole reputation that she carried. He had probably called there and when he had gotten Morgan, she probably didn’t want to embarrass Sarah and had just told him that she was busy. It made sense, though she wished she knew more about what was going on. If she had talked to Eric herself, she could have made him tell her something about what they could expect. She wasn’t used to being in the dark. She didn’t like it.