by TW Brown
“Let’s take Interstate 215 and head west. Maybe we can skirt around the worst of the smoke,” Joel announced in his headset. “I don’t know how much worse it gets, but if we keep driving into it, I think we put ourselves in a bad situation”
“Yeah, it would suck to survive the zombie apocalypse this far and then die from smoke inhalation,” Malik snorted.
While it was a little clearer, the smoke in the air was still omnipresent and irritating. Before long, even Debra was coughing and complaining about her throat.
Eventually, they found themselves hooking around and coming to the junction of Interstate 15. They headed north directly into the heart of what remained of the Las Vegas Strip. Several of the iconic hotels had numerous plumes of smoke billowing from too many windows to even guess.
“There are too many.” Will’s voice was the first to break the silence.
Joel once again ordered them to come to a halt. He climbed out of the Humvee and then onto the hood. Using his binoculars, he scanned the landscape. It was almost impossible to believe what he was seeing.
“Why are they still here?” Debra asked, finally exiting the vehicle as well.
“I am going to guess the ready food source,” Joel replied pensively.
As he scanned a few of the massive hotels, he saw pockets of activity. From what he could gather, small groups of survivors were attempting to hold up in one of the many resort hotels that lined the strip. He also saw signs that things were not going well for the living. Just as what existed outside of the city proper, it was clear that certain elements were taking full advantage of the situation to the utmost.
As they passed a golf course and the airport on the right, a new theme was appearing. Just ahead was an overpass with at least a hundred bodies hanging from it. None of them twitched or squirmed indicating to Joel that these people had been among the living and executed. Each had a placard around his or her neck with a Roman numeral between one and ten. All of them had I, IV, and X on their cards. There was a smattering of other numbers with the most prevalent being VII.
“What the hell?” Debra breathed.
Joel glanced over to discover that she’d brought her own field glasses up and was taking in the same scene that he was looking at. He was just as confused.
“Some sort of code?” Malik called down from the machine gun turret.
“I don’t know,” Joel admitted, but something tugged at his mind and he believed the answer was very likely something simple and probably obvious.
“Whatever this is, I’d rather we not hang around too long,” Will spoke up, his voice sounding a bit distant in Joel’s headset, almost as if he were not actually speaking directly into his mic, but instead from a few feet away.
A whistling sound snapped Joel’s attention away from the scene ahead. On instinct, he yelled for everybody to get down as he dove for cover under an abandoned taxi that still had its undead driver behind the wheel. He hit the ground harder than intended, but still had the presence of mind to roll and then scramble on his belly for cover just as an explosion shook the ground several yards away.
“Find out where that is coming from!” Joel snapped as he jumped to his feet.
In seconds, they were moving again. Despite not liking the idea of driving into a city that was visibly infested with the walking dead, they were left with very little choice as a wall of fire erupted and spanned the interstate behind them about two hundred yards back. While he did not doubt their vehicles’ abilities to simply drive through something like a wall of fire, he wanted to at least give the impression to whomever was behind this attack that they were in the driver’s seat.
Admittedly, they might have the slightest upper hand at the moment in that they obviously knew his location and he had no clue about theirs; that was a minor advantage as he saw it. By giving them a false sense of control and power, he felt things were even if not perhaps tilted in his favor somewhat.
Keeping their speed down to a crawl, they continued forward until they actually passed under the overpass with all the hanging bodies. That also allowed Joel to confirm that each of those individuals had been a living person when they’d been hung. None of them were zombies, and he confirmed that by making certain that none of them had been shot in the head. Nope, these were simply corpses of the “normal” variety. That thought almost made Joel chuckle.
As they crept past the Mandalay Bay complex and approached another overpass. They could see more figures hanging from it. As they passed the towering golden-faced building they were able to see that the front of it had been defaced. However, it was clear that this bit of vandalism was not only very intentional, but also required no small amount of planning. Windows had been busted out from about the tenth floor almost to the top as well as a good distance across just past the midway mark to form a massive cross.
“The Ten Commandments,” Malik whispered.
“What?” Joel said absently as he stared out his window at the strangely unsettling display.
“Those numbers on the cards around those people’s necks,” Malik answered, his voice uncharacteristically barely above a whisper. “I don’t have them memorized or anything, much less know the order they supposedly come in other than the first one being something about not having any God other than Me, the Lord your God.”
“Great,” Debra snarled. “Bikers ain’t enough. We get to deal with religious nuts.”
“I think those may be far more dangerous,” Joel muttered.
Just because he was not a fan of gambling did not mean he didn’t pop into town on occasion. Without fail, it seemed he could not walk a block down the strip without some group of religious zealots accosting him and others in the street with proclamations of how they were destined for hell. Maybe they were even right, but all it took was a single glance into these people’s eyes to see the truth of their frenzied devotion.
Truth be told, Joel had no trouble with religion. His problem existed in the people and the actions they perpetrated in the name of it. For too many, it was an excuse to harass and even assault others simply because they held on to a different belief.
Towards the last few days when he and Wanda had watched everything unfold, he’d seen some of the scarier sorts of zealot types crawling out from under their rock. Many were making the ever-popular claim of this being the “Last Days” prophesied in the Book of Revelations. Others simply called it God’s judgement against man.
“Shoot anything that moves,” Joel announced.
He knew better than to think any sort of encounter with the perpetrators of those hangings could end in anything short of bloodshed. The old ways were gone. There were no such things as “due process” or “innocent until proven guilty” as far as he was concerned.
The first chatter of machine gun fire came from the left and Joel called it out to Malik who swung the .50 cal around and started pumping rounds into the face of what appeared to be a simple two-story parking structure. Another explosion sounded, this one to the left, sending a gout of concrete, smoke, and flames ten or twenty feet into the air. The heat was enough that Joel could feel it even inside the relatively safe confines of the Humvee.
“Religious nuts with military hardware?” Will shouted in the headset as the metallic plinks and pings of bullets hitting the deuce-and-a-half tried to drown him out.
“Break right at the next exit,” Joel barked, ignoring the comment. “Then turn right onto Tropicana. We are headed for the MGM Towers.”
The Humvee rocketed forward as Debra decided that creeping along was making them far too easy of a target. They rolled up the off-ramp and reached the corner well ahead of Will and the truck. She cranked the wheel around to make the right turn and stomped on the brakes.
“This is a bust, Joel,” Debra said between gritted teeth as she slammed the Humvee into reverse.
“There has to be a way,” Joel said, but it was more to himself as he craned his neck to see the wall of undead that clogged the street.
“Nope,” Debra snorted as she turned as tight a one-eighty as the Humvee was capable. “Anybody in those buildings are on their own. They are trapped in there until either the zombies get in, they hang up, or they run out of food. Personally, my money is on the second option.”
“Military vehicle fleeing the area, this is Pastor Billy Dean Smoltz. We have over one hundred souls, good and pure, currently isolated on top of the entrance to the large white castle just ahead of you. Due to the entrance being breached, the people were forced to retreat to the concrete awning above the main entrance. The heat is taking a terrible toll, and it will only be a matter of hours before people begin to perish. I beg you to resist the urge to flee. If you are truly members of this nation’s armed forces, then you are driven by a sense of honor and duty that I hope you still possess. Please, many of those trapped are children.”
Joel glanced behind them and saw dark shapes that could very well be people on top of the structure that extended over the entrance to Excalibur, the castle themed hotel. He saw that they were indeed trapped as the undead had the area surrounded and were perhaps fifty or hundred deep on every side possible—at least from what he could see.
“Well?” Joel said as the vehicle slowed.
“Well what?” Debra asked.
“Why are you slowing?”
“I thought I would see what you wanted to do.”
Just then, Will pulled up alongside in the deuce-and-a-half. He looked past them to the sea of undeath and scowled. “Ain’t no way we can get up that road, boss.”
“I know,” Joel admitted.
“So what do we do?”
“Tell your radio operator to call base. See if they can make contact with Conrad Parks and the group we came here to find.” Joel fought down the urge to gag as the breeze blew a wave of stench past his nose. He had to guess they were still almost a half mile away, yet there were so many zombies gathered that the smell carried.
“You want us to sit here in the open like this while we try to figure this out?” Will sounded dubious and his eyes kept darting to where the zombies were gathered. As of yet, only a few had turned their direction.
“…able to hear me?” a woman’s voice drawled in a thick accent that sounded more at home in the Deep South than Las Vegas.
“Hello?” Joel pressed his ear piece in a bit more snug so that he might be able to hear better.
“Is this the group in them military vehicles, or the bunch of idiots on the roof of the entrance to Excalibur?”
Joel wasn’t about to answer that question. “Who might you be?”
“I am the vengeance of the Lord.” There was a fervent quality to the voice that told Joel that this person was not speaking in metaphors. She believed what she was saying with an absolute certainty that only an extremist can believe.
“Does he know, or is it a surprise?” Malik snorted, earning a scowl from Joel.
“This world has become a cesspool of depravity and perversion. This is the coming of the dead promised in Revelations. Soon the world will be purged of all sinners, and those of us found worthy will be swept up and brought before God to sit as his feet for eternity,” the woman railed. In the background, shouts of “Amen!” and “Praise God!” were heard.
Joel reached over and shut off the engine of the Humvee. He waved at Will and made a slashing gesture across his throat. In a moment, the only sounds were those of the undead gathered around the white awning packed with desperate survivors still waving their arms and obviously hoping that Joel’s group would return for them. Then he heard it, off to the left.
He scanned what looked like a ten-story parking garage next to the New York, New York Hotel and Casino complex. It only took him a moment to see the flash of something reflecting off of a shiny surface that could be glass or metal. He also saw a flurry of movement. Either these people weren’t trying to hide because they were foolish, or simply didn’t know any better. He was going to bet on the latter while still accepting that it was just as likely to be equal parts both.
“Got yourself some military hardware, do ya?” Joel asked.
“It is the sword of salvation,” the woman replied coldly. “And we are simply the tools of His righteousness. We are bringing before the Lord those who would try to cower from judgement.”
“So you’re saying God can’t take care of his own business?”
“Do not mock the power of the Lord,” the woman snarled in a furious warning laced with unveiled venom.
“Always amazed me how you religious nuts make all these claims to be working for God as if he wasn’t able to handle his business.” He tapped Debra and nodded for her to start the Humvee now that he knew what he needed to know in regards to the location of what he now deemed the larger threat. He heard Will start the deuce-and-a-half a few seconds later. “You always claim that you are acting on His behalf, or as His will dictates. It’s never about how you are just some sort of delusional basket case that should be locked in a rubber room in one of those white coats that tie up in the back.”
“Perhaps you need to meet our Lord in person and see if that mocking tongue still wags.”
There was a chorus of cheers, and then an electronic click. A few seconds later, Joel saw a puff of smoke from the roof of the parking garage structure.
“Go!” he barked.
He felt himself jerk in his harness and pressed back into the seat as the Humvee lurched forward. The truck vanished from view as both his drivers acted without question. A heartbeat later, there was an explosion. Joel knew instantly that it was nowhere near them. He looked in the mirror as the sounds of something crumbling and coming apart sounded. The roof of the overhang had been hit and was breaking apart.
He saw a section of it come loose and tilt like some sort of slide that sent dozens of people, some injured by the blast, some not, sliding down into the sea of undeath that waited with reaching hands and gnashing teeth. Another section broke free and landed on a cluster of zombies, most likely turning them into jelly. That only served as a false reprieve for those who’d ridden that piece of concrete in its wild free fall. Despite how slow or uncoordinated they might be, the wave of walking dead closed on that group with finality.
The screams that came to Joel’s ears were terrible and he was shaken by how they differed from anything he’d ever heard, even in the killing fields of Vietnam. These were screams of unimaginable pain and fear.
“Go, go, go!” he shouted. “Malik, lay down fire around the upper decks of that garage.”
“Roger,” Malik responded. Almost instantly, the chatter of the .50 cal sounded, accompanied by the clatter of its large shell casings bouncing off the roof or even the hood of the Humvee.
“Will, get somebody to lob a few frag grenades onto the top of that place.” Joel pointed to the exit that would take them back to Interstate 15. Debra grunted in acknowledgment as she veered down what would have been the interstate’s off-ramp.
“Hello?” a voice came over the radio.
Joel felt his mouth go dry. He knew the voice of Conrad Parks anywhere.
“Conrad?” he said into his mic with as much calm as he could muster. “Where are you, son?”
“Tower Two of the Signature Suites,” the man replied. “Is that you, Uncle Landon?”
“It is, Conrad.” Joel swallowed the lump in his throat at what he would have to say next. “Son, we tried, but it seems that the zombies are thick here around the main hotels of The Strip. It just isn’t possible for us to get to you.”
There was a moment of silence. He glanced over at Debra and saw that her eyes remained on the road as she wove her way through the few undead and scattered cars on the highway. If she was feeling anything, it was impossible to tell by her expression.
“I understand, sir.”
Joel felt his stomach churn. He’d always considered Conrad to be like a son. If that sentiment held any truth, wouldn’t he throw all caution aside and do what needed to be done in order to save him?
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br /> “You have a radio, so I want you to stay in touch with us. If the situation on the ground changes, do not hesitate to reach out.” Joel twisted and turned in his seat to try and get a glimpse of the towers. At the moment, they were hidden by one of the countless parking structures. “I’m not sure how much food you have, but I might be able to help when it comes to water.”
Debra glanced his way, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “And what exactly do you think we can do?” she asked over the rumble of the engine.
“Power,” Joel answered. “We have access to power. That power will turn on all the pumps so that at least water will flow freely.”
“So we are going to turn the lights on in Las Vegas?” she sniffed. “Seems like a bit much.”
“That is only part of the plan.” Joel leaned back as his mind began to mull over the possibilities. “But first, we have some business to finish.”
“So we are heading home?”
“No,” Joel said, leaning back in his seat and shutting his eyes. “Can you get us to Nellis Air Force Base?”
7
Grand Ideas
“This is a big mistake, sir,” Debra said through clenched teeth.
Not for the first time, Joel wished that he could turn to Wanda for advice. It seemed so simple. Just hop on the freeway, drive to the base and have his two pilots locate an attack helicopter if possible.
“I don’t understand,” Joel whispered. “Where are they all coming from?”
Outside the Humvee, there were swarms of the walking dead, and with his vehicle and the deuce-and-a-half the dominant noise source, they were all coming his way. Twice they’d had to stop and clear bodies from underneath the Humvee after trying to force their way through. The front of his clothes were still fouled from his having been sick.
And he hadn’t been the only one. His entire team had vomited until there was nothing left in their bellies as they’d worked feverishly to pull the twisted and mangled bodies from under the vehicle.