Escaping Vegas

by Dennis Elder

  Ivan lashed out with his knife and caught the young ex-convict across the throat. He only nicked the man’s right main artery, but slashed clean open the left artery.

  The young man stumbled back a few steps, grabbed his hands to his bleeding throat and then fell over in a heap. Blood pooled quickly around his head and ran off down through a nearby sewer grate.

  “It means nothing for sure,” said Ivan, as he wiped his blade clean on the shirt of the fallen young man. Then he stood back and looked up again to the top of the Planet Hollywood tower.

  “It means we may have the women,” added Ivan. “We will know for sure in three hours at most.”

  Without any remorse or concern for the man he had just killed, Ivan walked calmly back to his sidewalk and sat down. There was nothing he could do but wait for the next message from above.

  None of the remaining men asked any more questions and they all sat a few feet further from Ivan than they had before.

  Chapter 124: NO!

  Mark and his group pedaled successfully East on East Russel Road about the same time Claudio and his ten co-riders were pedaling West on Galleria Drive. They were nearly a mile apart and passed each other unknowingly like to two ships in the night. The only difference was Mark’s team had turned off their headlamps while Claudio’s guys kept their flashlights on.

  When Mark and his team reached 582 they had to decide to try to go North again or head back South toward the 215 intersection. The team stopped at the intersection of East Russel Road and 582.

  Everyone was looking both ways down 582. North was definitely the shortest route, but it might not be the safest.

  Then Frank said,” Looks like we got company up North.”

  Everyone’s eyes swung to the North. About a thousand yards out they could see a large number of dim flickering lights. It was the men on foot who were following Claudio’s riders.

  “Looks like we’ll need to go the long way around now,” shouted Mark as he immediately pedaled off in the dark, heading South on 582. “Come on!” The rest of his team followed tight on his lead.

  “Can we turn our lights back on,” asked Teresa, after a few hundred yards past. “Can’t see much.”

  Mark shouted as loud as he could, but he didn’t want to take his eye off the road in front of him. His night vision had always been good, but it was pretty dark and he didn’t want to plow the entire group into the back of some dump truck.

  “NO!” Mark bellowed, as he continued to race forward.

  Mark knew their headlamps had given them away earlier. He wasn’t going to take that chance again until they were far, far away and was sure they couldn’t be spotted.

  And so, the little band of survivors pushed on, each rider barely able to see in front of them. Mark set a near sprinter’s pace, as each rider rode dangerously close to the rider just in front of them. This was the first time they’d been forced to turn around and lose ground.

  After a mile Mark slowed the pace considerably. Riding too fast might turn into a disaster.

  But one thing was in their favor this time. Nobody was getting any flats.

  Chapter 125: Bushwhacked

  Suddenly Claudio’s flashlight illuminated something ahead that ran completely across the West lane of the road he was riding down. He was pedaling pretty hard and had to put the hammer down on this bike’s brakes. He stopped about 10 feet just short of the obstacle.

  At first he thought it was a bunch of clothes that come out of a truck or something. But when he got closer he realized it had to be Julio and the men of team two. Nothing moved and no one seemed to be alive. He swept his flashlight back and forth across the dead men’s bodies. Then he rolled up a little closer to get a better look. Everyone had been chewed up bad. Lots of blood.

  His shock then turned to rage. These men may have been ex-convicts, but they were part of him, part of the Vegas army. Some were his friends. He got off his bike and set it to the side. Finally, a couple of the faster bike riders caught up with Claudio and braked hard once they saw him. The other men on Claudio’s team were still back farther North on 95, either because they just couldn’t keep up or they had flat tires and were now walking.

  One of the men who came up behind Claudio set his bike to the ground and moved forward next to him. The new man pointed his flashlight at the pile of dead men.

  “Holy…” said the man, but then added in a long low whistle to finish his point. “Anybody still alive?”

  “Don’t appear as such,” said Claudio as he stepped over a couple of the dead men and took another long look at some of the others in the back of the pile. He spotted Julio but only recognized him because his yellow and black biker’s jacket. Julio’s head had been mostly shot away.

  “Let’s make sure there aren’t any survivors,” said Claudio as he moved again swinging his flashlight from one man to another.

  The other man with Claudio stepped carefully over the dead bodies and started checking men nearest him.

  But team two just didn’t exist anymore. All forty one men were dead on Highway 95.

  “Ivan’s not gonna like this,” offered the other man.

  Claudio didn’t respond. He knew Ivan better than anyone in their entire Army. Claudio then swung his flashlight up and pointed it North down Highway 95. He was now thinking about which way the women had gone.

  A few more men started showing up. They watched Claudio as he peered into the darkness with his flashlight.

  “You think they went North?” asked the man.

  Claudio thought on it a few more seconds.

  “Probably. Doubt they went back to the South,” responded Claudio, as he swung he flashlight back to the South.

  Two more of Claudio’s scout riders pulled up and were partially illuminated by his flashlight.

  Then Claudio swung his light back to the North again.

  “I think our visitors waited here and ambushed Julio and his guys. Then they hightailed it North,” said Claudio. “They’re probably an hour ahead of us by now.”

  “Gonna go after um?” asked the other man.

  Claudio was thinking that through. Even if they could catch um, which he wasn’t sure they could, he wasn’t convinced his team’s skills or firepower would be enough to confront the guys who massacred team two. They were definitely pros and knew their business. But Claudio also knew he had to go after them. Ivan would accept nothing less.

  “Yea,” said Claudio. “We’re gonna go after um, and when we catch um we’re gonna kill every last one of um. Every last one of ‘um.”

  “But not the women,” suggested the man.

  “Not, not the honeys,” replied Claudio. “We’ll bring them back safe and sound.”

  Chapter 126: Clipboard #4

  Ivan had briefly nodded off. He was dreaming of a prostitute he’d known back in Moscow. The sound of another clipboard hitting a nearby car shattered his dream sleep and brought him to his feet.

  “Quickly now,” shouted Ivan. “Find clipboard!”

  Most every one of the remaining six men, who were near Ivan, were also sound asleep. They stood up and slowly spread out. After a few seconds a voice shouted, “found it!”

  The men all came back to Ivan’s position and the paper message was laid out on the hood of a car. Ivan’s flashlight illumined the printed message.

  “About ten lights came East and then went North – strung out some. Lights stopped close to where flashing lights and popping came from earlier. Can also see lots of lights further East, but they went back North for a while and now headed West toward place where smaller number of lights are now. No other movement seen. Will send last clipboard if we see something else.”

  Ivan didn’t need to read the paper again. While it was confusing, the message could mean several things. But he got a feeling that they’d missed their chance to capture the women. He’d have to wait until Claudio came back to be sure.

  This time the big Russian opened the back door of an empty taxi cab. He g
ot in and attempted to stretch out.

  “Call me when you hear next clipboard,” said Ivan, just before he slammed shut the taxi’s door. But before he closed his eyes, he reached around behind his back and pulled his handgun out and rested it on his chest.

  The men on the street looked at each other momentarily and then one by one took their respective sidewalk seats along Las Vegas Boulevard.

  Chapter 127: Wolf um down

  Mark checked his watch. It was 2300 hours, or 11 PM. He had slowed the team’s bike pace some but kept the group moving. They were now eight miles up highway 564, a good fifteen miles from where they’d ambushed the convict army. He still planned to ride all night before they got any sleep. He knew everyone was tired and needed a break. When they finally turned North again, and got around a good sized hill, he finally felt they had good cover and could stop.

  So, he shouted, “Break, ten minutes.”

  The group pulled to a stop quickly. Everyone was grateful for a chance to rest. Over the last 15 miles they had all averaged about 14 miles an hour. During an average day they’d traveled maybe 8 miles an hour – on a good day.

  Mark got off his bike and did a visual check of everyone. Only Tyrone and Susie didn’t seem too winded from the last leg of the ride. All the others were gasping for air.

  “From here out we can slow down bit, “said Mark.

  “Thank heavens,” said Sylvia.

  “But remember,” added Mark, paying no attention to Sylvia’s quip. “We ride most of the night, take a two maybe three hour rest and then we ride again all day long again.”

  That got a few groans from the younger kids.

  “Get your energy bars out and wolf um down,” shouted Mark. If you need to pee, now would be a good time.”

  Hampton, their mascot dog had been riding in Mark’s trailer. Mark reached down to let Hampton out for the break. It added another ninety pounds to Mark’s trailer’s weight, but he needed to give Hampton a ride or the dog would get too tired running for such long distances.

  Mark switched on his headlamp

  “You can turn your headlamps back on,” he added. “For the next forty miles we’re behind a series of high hills. The bad guys won’t be able to spot us tonight.”

  Several of the women wanted to use the facilities but were too afraid to step behind any of the bushes in the dark. They’d seen plenty of surviving rattlesnakes along I-15.

  As a group, they chose to walk back down the road 40 yards or so and into the darkness and do their business on the road. Not very ladylike, but much safer.

  “Drink as much water as you can,” instructed Mark. “Gonna be a long time until our next break.”

  After a few minutes, Mark walked down the long line bike riders. Most were sitting down. Everyone was eating and drinking. The Major offered words of encouragement to everyone and patted a few shoulders. He talked with Jeremy for a minute and made sure Tyrone was watching out for him. Mark’s headlamp illuminated the young man’s face and Mark could see where he’d been crying. Loosing Boon, his riding partner and good friend, had been very hard on the little guy. But Tyrone would watch over him now.

  Mark asked everyone to start riding with their partners again and everyone adjusted their positions.

  By the time Mark moved back up the line and took a long pull on his water bottle their ten minute break was over.

  “Mount up!” shouted Mark as he strode forward to his own bike. “Next break in ten miles, or about two and a half hours. We’ll be climbing a few hills.”

  A few moans rang out.

  “Hampton,” barked Mark, then adding a short whistle. The big dog appeared seconds later and jumped back into Mark’s trailer.

  “Good boy,” offer the Major just before he zipped up the trailer’s window.

  The Marauders all climbed on their bikes. Little Sally gave Tyrone the thumbs up sign by sticking her arm out of her trailer that was behind Tyrone’s bike. A second trailer was attached behind the trailer Sally sat in. Nobody could understand how that guy could pull so much weight and act like it was nothing.

  Teresa double checked the rope she had attached to Cedric’s bike. The young boy worked like a trooper and pedaled as hard as he could. But on the steep hills, Teresa’s strong legs generated 80% of Cedric’s inertia.

  With their headlamps back on again, and with some food and water in their stomachs, the band of twenty three survivors pushed off one more time and rode on into the dark night.

  Chapter 128: Coleman lantern

  Ivan finally gave up after another hour of waiting on the last clipboard. He decided to walk back to the Bellagio with five of the men. When he got there, he and the men sat down on the hotels’ front steps. Ivan wanted to talk with Claudio as soon as he returned. One man was ordered to stay behind for two more hours, just in case another clipboard message appeared.

  It was about two o’clock in the morning when Claudio and the remaining 41 of the original 82 men walked up from East Flamingo Road and toward the Bellagio’s front doors. A Coleman lantern burned brightly on the hood of one of the taxis. A couple of small moths swirled around the glass housing.

  Ivan stood as Claudio and the men of team one returned. The six men who were with Ivan also stood up. Thankfully Claudio had the good sense to make sure all the bikes made it back. But every one of the tires were flat, and the relentless rolling of the steel rims along the hard pavement had destroyed most of the tubes.

  The men looked beaten.

  “Where are rest of men?” asked Ivan, afraid of the worst.

  Claudio shook his head from side to side.

  “They didn’t make it,” said Claudio.

  “Dead?” questioned Ivan. “All of them?”

  “Everyone from team two is dead,” said Claudio. “Looked like they never saw it commin. We found um about ten miles out on Route 95. No survivors, everyone cut to ribbons.”

  “No survivors?” asked Ivan, hardly believing what he heard.

  “None,” added Claudio.

  “How could that be?” wondered Ivan. “Forty one men, dead?”

  Claudio swallowed and shifted his heavy M-16 a bit. He was tired and wanted to get some food, water and then sleep.

  “They must have walked into some kind if ambush,” continued Claudio. “We found hundreds of spent shell casings on both sides of the road. These guys we’re hunting, well, they’re professionals all right. Classic crossing fire set up. No one lives in those things.”

  Ivan’s jaw tightened. Claudio knew the look. When the big Russian got like that he always started looking for someone to blame. So, Claudio spoke up to try and divert Ivan’s attention.

  “Look boss, we’ll go after them in the morning,” offered Claudio.

  Ivan did not look up. His eyes were focused on the Coleman lantern. Claudio wasn’t sure if he was listening.

  “We’re too tired to go after them now,” continued Claudio. “We need some food and sleep. In the morning we’ll repair the bikes and get outfitted before we go after um again.”

  Ivan unclenched his jaw and twisted his head around to try and loosen up the sharp pain he was beginning to feel at the base of his thick neck. The men close by could hear the Russian’s vertebrae popping.

  “You think they got past you?” questioned Ivan, still gazing at the Coleman lantern.

  Claudio took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what Ivan might do but he decided to just be honest.

  “I do,” replied Claudio, hoping Ivan would give him and the other men the OK to go inside and get some rest.

  “But we know they have women and children with them – its sure to slow them down,” Claudio added. “We’re grown men, so we’ll catch them sooner or later. “

  Now it was Claudio’s turn to clench his jaw. He remembered the scene of carnage and bodies they left back on Route 95. He knew there were plenty of the surviving men who had lost buddies when team two was shot down. Everyone would be motivated to follow the women in the morning.
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  “And we will catch them,” said Claudio, with firm determination. “And when we do we’ll kill every one of the men to did this.”

  Ivan suddenly broke out of his Coleman Lantern trance, appreciating the resolve in Claudio’s words. Then he turned to face his first lieutenant.

  “Yes, you will catch them,” said Ivan, with steel resolve. “And bring back the women.”

  Claudio shook his head.

  “And bring back the women,” he replied.