Caught in the Web Read online

  Once he had opened the door, there was a digital jingle that seemed off key, the batteries probably dying. He closed the door behind him, the metal again squealing in protest as it fought its frame.

  “Can I help you?”

  Rob turned to see a short, grease-covered man standing in the open doorway to the garage area. The man seemed to fit right in with the small front counter area, which was a dirt-covered mess. His shirt was covered in dark streaks, his weathered skin was darker in spots from where grease and other traces of God knows what were streaked across. His skin was tight, stretched like leather, his veins protruding from years of hard work and living on the hardships of the job. The man looked small and scrawny, but Rob had seen the type before. He was the kind of man who didn’t look like much but was covered with tight muscle, the kind that was like iron in a pinch. It was a leanness that only came from hard work.

  “Yeah, my car… I had a flat tire on the way into town and I’m without a spare. Was wondering if you could come out and put a new one on?”

  “What size?” The man stepped the rest of the way into the room. Rob could see that the name on the shirt. “Mike”. He walked over behind the counter and grabbed a piece of notebook paper from a pad that was next to the phone. The rest of the counter was covered in work orders, scattered into various piles.

  “Excuse me?” Rob walked up to the counter.

  Mike raised his eyebrow. “What size is the tire? I can take one out and change it, but I need to know the tire size.”

  Shit, that was what Rob had been forgetting. He needed to know the rim and tire size, especially the rim size. While it wasn’t recommended, he could put a tire on that wasn’t the same size as the others. He could do it. It would just really screw up the alignment and the car would pull in one direction. However, the rim size he would need to know for sure, or Mike wouldn’t be able to put on a tire that fit. There was very little he could do about guessing the right rim size, and he didn’t know it off the top his head.

  “I…I don’t know,” Rob finally said as the man’s glare hadn’t softened. It grew more intense, and Rob thought he saw the man’s shoulders sag a little. It didn’t surprise him. Rob had just made himself one of the harder to deal with customers. He hadn’t meant to, but that didn’t matter. Mike looked like he had dealt with one too many hard cases that day.

  Blowing out a breath, Mike asked, “Where’s it at?”

  “Well…”

  * * * *

  Jason knew he couldn’t stay hidden in the kitchen for too long before the customers in the bar would get frustrated with him. While that didn’t matter to him, as he really couldn't care less about any of them, he knew it would upset his mom. She would, of course, hear about it. He was sure that no matter what he did, she would hear about it so he didn’t know why it really mattered. No matter what he did, these people would always complain about him because he wasn’t her. He couldn’t relate to them, or vice versa. He knew he should try and cause the least amount of complaints while she was on vacation. He was in charge of watching the bar and he didn’t want to disappoint her. She deserved her time away and it would be good that she felt like she could take a vacation every once in awhile.

  But his aunt was really upset. He was holding her at arm’s length, and she was a wreck. Her body was trembling, her lower lip quivered, her eyes were puffy and red. She was on the brink of crying again. How had she been able to drive to the bar? He had found her like that out in her car just a few minutes ago, sitting behind the steering wheel and crying as she looked off into space. He didn’t know how long she had been sitting like that before he had taken out the garbage. It couldn’t have been too long; otherwise, one of the patrons probably would have said something to him. She had parked not too far from the door, so they definitely would have noticed her.

  So how could he leave her? It was one thing to leave her and check on the patrons out there, but she wanted him to go to the house. He understood why. Bad things would happen if he didn’t, but how could he? Right now, there was no way she could handle even just the couple of people that they had out there. The conversation they just had couldn’t seem to sink in. Had his aunt really just confessed to killing someone?

  When he had first brought her into the back, she had already stopped crying. He hadn’t been too sure how long ago she had stopped, but it must have been just before he had found her. The corners of her eyes had still been wet, her cheeks were still red. He led her to the back of the bar, her head low so that none of the patrons could really see her face.

  She stayed quiet the whole way. Even when he got her away from people, she stayed that way. It bothered him. Something had happened at the house, and his gut twisted at the possibility something had happened to Lisa.

  Lisa was Jason’s little sister. He didn’t know why his parents had waited ten years after they had him before having another child. Maybe it had something to do with them just wanting another baby to squirm around the house and break things, or maybe they were just afraid of starting to get their freedom back because he would soon be able to take care of himself. Hell, who was he kidding? He knew the reason why. They were getting ready to get divorced. Lisa was that one last attempt to make everything right in so many ways.

  So was that it? Had something happened to Lisa? Now that they were in the back and away from people, his insides twisting in aggravation because she didn’t just say what had happened, he finally asked her. He looked down at her face in the crook of his shoulder as she was so much shorter than his six foot, one inch frame.

  “Is Lisa okay?”

  Tina seemed shocked. She pulled back and looked up at him. Then the moment passed and she was shaking her head. She rushed over to the sink, turned on the faucet, and started to splash cool water on her face.

  “It’s not Lisa. She’s fine. She’s at the game.” Tina turned off the water, but she didn’t turn to face him. She kept her head low and as he watched her fight to keep her body from shaking, he knew she was trying to keep the tears back. She was on the verge of losing it all over again.

  It didn’t feel right that he should be the one to console her. With how young his aunt was, only five years older than himself, he felt like he was acting like a boyfriend, not a nephew. It felt like what should be done, but he didn’t feel like he should be the one to do it. It was inside that personal bubble, one that said he should always keep her at a distance, or else other feelings may develop. She was his aunt, dammit! Although she was cute, he couldn’t think like that. It was just sick.

  He stepped behind her, again keeping her at arm’s length, and reached out to touch her shoulders. Her back stiffened, and he knew that it had been the wrong move. He quickly stepped back, dropping his arms and bowing his head.

  Damn, he was no good at this. Why did this have to happen while his mom was away?

  “She’s at the game,” Tina continued, “but she will be home soon.”

  Jason felt like there was something in how Tina said that. It seemed to drop the temperature in the room to freezing, making him shiver. What happened to that July heat outside?

  She turned to face him, and he saw she was on the verge of releasing more tears. “You have to go back to the house. You need to. Lisa could be home anytime, and he’s still there. You need to get there and take care of him. Lisa shouldn’t have to see that.”

  “Take care of who? What’s wrong?

  The dam broke and the tears came again. Her hand quickly came up to try and hold them back but, as it shook there, it did little more than wipe away at the corners before falling back to her side. She leaned back against the counter and looked down at the floor.

  “I killed him. At least I think I killed him. I don’t know, but I think so. It doesn’t matter. He can’t be there when Lisa gets home.”

  “What? Who?”

  “Vince.”

  “Vince? Who’s Vince?”

  “My boyfriend. The one who…”

  Tina couldn’t
finish. She just bent over, quivering. She didn’t have to finish, though. He had overheard the conversations she had with his mom. He knew Vince had beaten Tina, and she was staying with them to hide from him. So he had found her? Had he tried to hurt her and something happened? She was here, so she had gotten away from him, but she was convinced that he was dead? Maybe he was, and now she wanted him to…what? Hide the body? Why not call the police? That was probably what he was going to do.

  It did mean he needed to get back to the house, especially if Lisa did come home to find a dead man there. His sister wouldn’t take that too well, and it would probably give her nightmares for the rest of her life. He couldn’t let her see that. Tina was right. He had to go to the house.

  “Hey, kid?!” he heard someone call from the other room.

  “I gotta go take care of some customers. Are you going to be okay for a minute or so?” he asked her. She nodded. He hoped so, but he had his doubts. She tried to sniffle back some of the tears and smile up at him, but he knew it wasn’t real. Her eyes were still lost and pleading, still glinting with the threat of more tears as soon as he was gone.

  He quickly hurried out of the kitchen and to the man that was sitting at the bar. Mr. Jones was still sitting at his end, and Jason was kind of surprised to still see him there. Usually, when he was getting ignored, he would just get up and leave. Not only was he still there, but he stayed past the time he normally did. He usually only stayed this late when there was someone just as annoying as he was that wouldn’t stop talking to him.

  Jason turned away from the old man who called him. He was surprised to see another person just a couple of stools down. The new man looked older with some stubble that showed he hadn’t shaved for a couple days. He was a husky, rugged man who looked like he didn’t miss too many meals and didn’t get out much. Jason ignored him as it was hard not to because the other man was impatiently tapping his beer bottle against the bar.

  “Sorry,” he said as he hurried towards the impatient asshole. He could really wait as far as Jason was concerned. He didn’t really like dealing with pushy pricks, and this guy seemed determined to push his buttons. He had already labeled the man as a dumb hillbilly redneck prick, and he had no tolerance for him. Maybe it was how they interacted with each other, but the feeling seemed to be mutual. The man wasn’t anything great to look at, and his stained wife-beater, along with the well-worn “Lite” hat that looked like a dog had once thought it was a play toy, had Jason thinking of the man as something he didn’t even want to wait on. Hell, he probably owed money on a tab his mom kept under the counter. Seeing that she wasn’t there, he was spending the money he should have paid it off with on some more beer. Jason didn’t know the man, so he couldn’t check on it. It wouldn’t surprise him, though.

  He wanted to trick the man into giving him his name. Jason didn’t think the stranger was smart enough to figure out what he was doing, but doubted he would be willing to talk long enough to get it to work. Jason didn’t feel like putting forth the effort anyway. It would only piss off the maggot and make him leave. Then again, maybe that would be a good thing.

  “Just hurry the fuck up.”

  Jason nodded to him and quickly turned back around, going down the side of the bar near Mr. Jones. He opened the cooler, momentarily relishing in the blast of cool air that escaped, and grabbed a brown bottle. He was already opening it as he hurried down to the man and put it in front of him. He took the money from the pile on the bar, then turned to the register and put it in the till.

  Jason really did like many of the people who came into his mom’s bar. Josh and a few others were good friends and he would occasionally flirt with a few of the girls that came in there, though none of them were really his type. There were also the assholes, and Jason did not have the tolerance his mom had in dealing with them. He just wished they would leave him the hell alone.

  “I’m done with this,” the man said.

  Jason turned and saw the large bucket next to him full of tickets. Jason took it and put it below, then turned his attention to the other man sitting there.

  “Really sorry about the wait. Had some issues in the back.”

  “Screwing around back there with the little missus?” he said, a mocking smirk working its way through his grease-stained face.

  “Eew. That’s my aunt,” Jason said, making a face, and turned to look towards the new guy who was just a couple of stools down. “So, what can I get you?”

  “Well, what I want is one of your mom’s heavenly pre-mixed Bloody Marys, but…” The man hung on the word “but”, stopping Jason as he had already been bending over to grab the jug of mix from the cooler. “I’m in the truck today so I’ll have to settle for a Coke,” Bruce finally said. “Yeah, I gotta be good.”

  Jason stood and walked back down to the cooler, grabbing a can of Coke. He had to get out of there, and more people coming in was not helping. He had to think of someone who could watch the bar. How could he leave? Just close it up? Yeah, his mom would love it when she heard about that, and she would hear about it.

  “Better make it a diet,” Bruce called down. Jason nodded and reached back into the cooler.

  How could he leave the bar? Truth was, he didn’t have too many people he could trust with it. Sure, he had grown up in the area, but he never had too many friends, and most of them he did have had already moved away to go to college, just like he did. He just happened to be home to help out his mom, but he normally wouldn’t have even been there.

  In fact, the only friend he did have that still lived around there was his best friend and the one he still kept in contact with pretty regularly. Hell, they did a show together every Wednesday night but, more often than not, that was done through Skype and long distance. That still didn’t mean Jason would trust the bar to him.

  As he walked past the hallway that led to the back, he could still hear Tina crying.

  It was settled. He had to call Sullivan. He had already tried to call him a bunch of times earlier, just out of boredom. Hopefully, now he could get the lazy bastard out of his damn bed.

  Jason put down the open Diet Coke and quickly filled a glass of ice to set next to it. He didn’t even take the man’s money as he quickly turned, went to the phone, and started dialing Sullivan’s number.

  Once again, he didn’t answer. Damn him! Come on, Sully. Answer the damn phone,” he thought to himself.

  CHAPTER 3

  Sullivan finally pulled himself out of bed, his head hanging as a thick fog, mixed with the weight of an anvil, kept away all waking thought. The spinning room and wobbling floor fought against his sense of what was up and down, and he had to struggle with it. He didn’t want to get up, but knew if he didn’t want to be in a piss-soaked bed, it was now or never.

  “Ugh.” He still didn’t want to open his eyes. He wouldn’t have, but his bladder was telling him that it was time to go…if not to the bathroom, then in his bed. He was obliged to listen to it, and he hadn’t drunk enough the night before to accept waking up covered in his own urine. He needed two more beers and a bottle of Jack before that would be acceptable.

  He opened his eyes and looked around the room. Yep, it was just how he left it. His own little slice of heaven stuffed into the silver bullet of a camper, was filled with piles of comic books, movies in a variety of genres, books, and video games. Nothing but the necessities were allowed in his mobile home because on the day the zombie apocalypse happened, he had to have all of it here and ready to move.

  However, it didn’t pack well, so it was scattered all over the place. The only part of his place that was organized was the trunk he had positioned right behind the driver’s seat. It contained his collection of firearms, ammunition, arrows for the bow mounted on the ceiling, and his collection of porn. Oh yeah. He was ready.

  Just because the place looked messy, didn’t mean it was dirty. He didn’t consider himself a slob. There was no food lying around, nothing that might attract bugs and ants. No, he pi
cked up after himself. He considered himself to be clean, just not overly-organized.

  Still, first thing in his morning, which was just a little before noon according to the clock, it did make things a little difficult when making his way from his couch bed to the bathroom hallway in the back of the camper. He didn’t use his back bedroom because he had gutted that and had made it into his computer and radio studio. It was from there that he recorded his podcasts and broadcasted his pirate radio show. Even though he was ready for the day the zombie apocalypse happened, he wanted to make sure everyone else was, as well. If they listened to him, they would be.

  He stood and looked around, his eyes adjusting to the daylight. He could feel the crust of sleep around his eyes and wiped it away. Sure, he kept his place clean, but towards the end of the night, the bottles got further and further away from the garbage, and he looked to see the amount of beer cans and bottles scattered around the room. He had one hell of a show last night, and it had gone on pretty late. The evidence was all around him, and he had to move carefully so he didn’t step on any of the cans with his bare feet. There were also some papers scattered about that he figured he must have bumped into on his way to his couch last night.

  Stepping past his counter and glancing at his cell phone, he saw that it glowed. Someone had just left him a voicemail.

  He wondered if that was what had woken him. He really didn’t feel ready to get up, his mind still lingering in the drunk from the night before. It just didn’t feel right to be up this early. And who the hell was calling him? Must be a bill collector, as all his friends knew not to leave voicemails. Just call and hang up and, if he felt like it, he would call them back. Plus, most of them would know better than to call him before noon. They would know there was no chance he would be up that early.

  He picked up the phone and glanced at the display, making sure to still keep one eye on the floor as he walked around the various heaps. Now that he was partially away from the disaster zone around his couch, there were smaller, less dangerous items to step on and he could focus more on the phone.