Free The Cage by Brian Keene

to have no end. It went on and on and on, drowning out Simon’s threats and the ever-present sound of the signal. Jeff had to focus to hear the sound of the padlock snapping shut. Jared’s cries lasted until Simon had dragged him out of the warehouse. The door swung shut again. Silence returned to the cage.
    Jeff kept his eyes closed. He felt safer in the dark than he did in the harsh, yellow glow of the fluorescent lighting. In the dark, you couldn’t see the monsters when they came to get you.

The signal swelled, booming throughout the warehouse. The fluorescent light fixtures swung back and forth, creaking on their chains and raining dust down onto cardboard boxes full of various home electronics, which were also swaying. The fire extinguisher fell from its hook on the wall and crashed onto the floor, then rolled out of sight. The wire mesh of the cage trembled and clanged.
    Jeff opened his eyes, unsure of what was happening or how long he’d been sleeping. Yawning, he stood up and stretched, wondering for a brief second where he was, and what the hell he was hearing. Then he remembered, and the realization was like a kick in the gut. The noise made his teeth and ears ache. His feet were numb—asleep. He stumbled around, wondering why the signal had gotten louder. And then he saw why.
    The warehouse door stood open again.
    And Simon walked toward him.
    It was his turn.
    “Shit.”
    He mouthed the word, but realized that he couldn’t hear his own voice over the roar. The sound throbbed up through the floor, boring through his feet and then his legs and then surging into the rest of him. Jeff felt it rumbling in his chest. His ears and nose felt blocked, like he was in an airplane making its ascent or descent. He wished they would pop. More dust drifted down from the ceiling, making his nose and throat itch. Jeff’s eyes watered.
    Simon didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. The big, black pistol in his hand said everything. Jeff knew the drill. He’d seen it happen enough this evening. Simon would unlock the cage. Jeff would step out. The two of them would walk across the warehouse and disappear through the door.
    He would not come back. Of this Jeff was certain. He didn’t know what was happening on the other side of the door. He didn’t know what Simon was up to. He didn’t know if his friends and co-workers were alive or dead, but he knew that once they’d taken this walk with their captor, none of them had returned. And neither would he.
    “Please?”
    It was all Jeff could say. He hoped it would be enough.
    It wasn’t. Simon pulled out Alan’s key ring for the last time, unlocked the cage, and opened the door. If he’d heard Jeff’s singular plea over the cacophony of white noise, he gave no indication. He simply stood back, pointed the gun at Jeff, and waited. Jeff noticed that the gunman was no longer wearing his sunglasses. When Jeff didn’t move, Simon gestured again, impatient. The signal grew even louder.
    Jeff took a deep breath, held it, and then stepped forward. His legs felt wobbly. His feet tingled. He had to reach out and grab the chain links to keep from falling. Simon watched this impassively. Jeff stared into his captor’s eyes—those two dark circles, devoid of any emotion, and Simon stared back without blinking. Then, Jeff found himself at the door. He exhaled as he left the cage.
    Simon motioned with the gun, not bothering to lock the cage behind him. Jeff shuffled forward and Simon fell in step behind him. The killer placed the barrel of the pistol against the small of Jeff’s back. Jeff felt the cold steel through the material of his dress shirt, grating against his spine. Simon leaned close to Jeff’s ear. His sour breath smelled of cheese.
    “Your name is Jeff?”
    Jeff nodded, unable to speak.
    “You are six. The most important number of all. Some say that seven and thirteen are the power numbers, but for what we do tonight, it is six. You should feel very proud.”
    Jeff