The Cage Read Free Page B

slightly ajar, and both the light and the exhaust fan were on. Jeff caught a glimpse of the ugly pea-green walls, the cracked and smudged mirror, the filing cabinet full of various owners’ manuals, recall notices, and warranty information, the dirty toilet, and the stack of old soft-core porno magazines and home electronics manufacturers’ catalogs sitting on top of the toilet tank.
    Next to the restroom was what they called the cage.
    The cage was manufactured out of safety fencing and steel posts. Its length ran along most of the warehouse’s rear wall, encompassing the space not occupied by the restroom or loading dock. One wall—the store’s exterior wall—was composed of gray cement blocks. The other three walls, as well as the ceiling, consisted of the thick, stainless-steel wire fencing, as did the cage’s padlocked door. Inside the cage were all of the store’s small inventory—iPods, iPhones, Blackberrys, GPS units, digital cameras, camcorders, computer flash drives, and other items that were easy to steal. Most were stacked on shelves. Others were stacked on the floor, up against the wall. They kept the merchandise inside the cage as a security measure. Not that they’d ever had a problem with theft. Only Big Bill and Alan had keys to the cage. Anytime one of the employees sold an item housed inside of it, they had to get the keys from one of them. The store had over a dozen camcorders set up as security cameras. One of them was pointed directly at the cage.
    “Okay,” the man said, startling Jeff. “So far, so good. I’m going to frisk each of you, starting back here with you. What’s your name?”
    Jeff heard Roy moan, followed by a slapping sound.
    “Your name, old man. What’s your name?”
    “R-roy…”
    “Okay, good. Names are important. Knowing someone’s name gives you power over them. Now, I’m going to start with Roy here. When I’m done, he’s going to take these keys from me and unlock that security cage. He will go inside, followed by the next one and the next one. If any of you speak, or do anything other than proceed into the cage when it is your turn, you know what will happen. Do any of you wish to test me?”
    No one responded.
    “Good.” Although Jeff couldn’t see him, the man’s tone sounded as if he was smiling. “Roy, you will leave the keys in the lock and leave the lock hanging from the door. When each of you enter the cage, you will move to the rear wall and stand there with your hands on it, with your backs to me. Do this, and I promise the evening will end well. Disobey, and it won’t.”
    The ventilation system shut off again. The gunman fell silent. Jeff wondered what was happening, but resisted the urge to turn around and peek. A moment later, Roy brushed past him, head down, staring at the floor, Alan’s key ring clutched tightly in one hand. His arms trembled as he unlocked the cage door and stepped inside, leaving the key in the padlock as ordered. He walked to the rear wall, put his hands over his head, and pressed his palms against the concrete blocks. He was followed by Carlos, then Scott, and then Jared. Jeff flinched as he felt the man’s gloved hands on his buttocks. The search was quick but thorough. The killer’s hands were strong and forceful. Jeff bit his lip until it was over. Then the intruder gave him a nudge forward.
    Jeff walked past Clint, not daring to look back, and took his place next to the others. The concrete wall felt cold and rough beneath his fingertips. His stomach was in knots. He’d heard the expression before, but had never thought about what it meant until now. It felt like someone was twisting his intestines like pretzels. Jeff clenched his teeth, worried that at any second, he might shit his pants. His pulse throbbed, radiating from his chest to his throat to his temples. His face felt flushed, and even though the back room was cool, sweat poured down his forehead and back and arms.
    Clint shuffled up next to him and