Double Or Nothing

by Sean Patten

  Carlos nodded, his eyes still fixed on the fight between the mob and what was left of the cops. On all sides of us gunfire popped, and the few cars that had survived the previous day went up in exploding bouquets of flames.

  The noise was like nothing else, and it shook me to my core—it was the sound of pure, unrestrained chaos, thousands of people all reduced to their animal instincts.

  “Where we going?” Carlos yelled as we hoofed it over onto the other side of the Strip.

  “Just get over there!” I shouted. “We’ll figure it out!”

  Stupid to move without a plan, but it was the situation I’d been put into by Carlos when he’d decided to hightail it without talking the matter over.

  I ran and ran, occasionally glancing over my shoulder to make sure Carlos was still close behind, or to check to see if any of the crowd had noticed us and singled us out as a target.

  We soon reached the other side, relief hitting me hard when we were able to take cover behind the burnt-out husk of a car. I scanned the scene around me, spotting a small alleyway between two buildings that appeared empty.

  “There!” I said.

  Carlos gave another nod as he realized where I was pointing, what my plan was. I lifted my head just enough to see that the cops had been nearly totally overwhelmed by the crowd. A few panicked and rider-less horses ran through the people, shouts and screams erupting as they carved a path.

  However bad it would be to get caught under a stampede of people, I could only imagine getting run over by a damn horse.

  “Okay!” I shouted. “Clear! Go!”

  I did a quick check, making sure that I still had on my backpack and that the medal was still in my pocket, despite knowing that if I didn’t have either, they were good as gone.

  Relieved to find that both were there, I jumped up to my feet and took off in a rush, crossing the sidewalk and arriving in the alley. The quiet in the space was a welcome relief, and as soon as Carlos arrived next to me the two of us leaned against the rough brick and took time to catch our breaths.

  “Shit, J,” he said. “I can’t remember the last time I moved like that.”

  I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Now that we were relatively safe, I grabbed onto his shoulder and spoke, my eyes narrowed in anger and frustration.

  “Never, and I mean never, run off like that again,” I said. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

  “I just thought—”

  “Don’t ‘just think’,” I said. “‘Just thinking’ is what will get both of us killed. There are more people than just you and me to worry about. Got it?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, as if to argue, but quickly closed it.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Sorry.”

  It felt wrong to yell at Carlos. Despite being older than me, in some ways he seemed like a big, overgrown teenager. But no time to worry about that.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s get down the alley and—”

  I didn’t have a chance to finish my sentence. Right at that moment, long shadows appeared on the wall down the alley, ones that I recognized right away as belonging to people.

  Shit.

  Footsteps followed, and seconds later a group of five or so men appeared around the corner, all wielding pieces of metal or baseball bats or whatever other blunt objects they’d managed to get their hands on.

  And they didn’t look friendly. Not in the slightest.

  “Look at this cute couple,” said one of them.

  “Too bad they picked our turf to take their honeymoon,” said another.

  “You want to teach them a lesson?”

  “Nothing I’d like more.”

  Carlos turned to me, his eyes frantic.

  “You got a plan? Let’s hear it!”

  Up ahead, a little less than halfway between us and the gang, I spotted a dumpster situated right below a fire escape.

  “There!” I shouted. “Now!”

  Carlos got it. He took off, quickly climbing the dumpster right at the moment the gang started towards us. With a leap, he grabbed onto the ladder and immediately began struggling. I realized I should’ve known that a guy as big as him would’ve had issues with a feat of strength like that, but at the moment I’d been more focused on the group of thugs who seemed intent on beating the hell out of me just for fun.

  No time to waste. I hurried over to the dumpster and scaled it, quickly sticking my hands under Carlos’s feet and hoisting him up. He struggled, but with my help managed to get his feet on the bottom rung of the ladder.

  “Move!” I shouted, the men nearly right on top of us.

  “I’m going, I’m going!” he shouted down at me, his body so big that I could hardly see around him.

  The men below formed a half-circle around the dumpster, and right at the moment I grabbed onto the ladder and heaved myself up, a crack of pain burst from my leg, followed by the sound of a glass bottle shattering on the ground below.

  “Nice!’ said one of the men. “But get one of their heads and it’s extra points.”

  Out of the corner of my eye another glass bottle sailed through the air, this one going wide and smashing onto the side of the building, sending a hail of shards down towards me. I managed to cover my eyes just in time.

  “Assholes!” shouted Carlos.

  “Just move!” I yelled up to him.

  They were toying with us. There were enough men in the group for them to easily hurry up the ladder and pull us down. But apparently they wanted to have their fun with us first.

  “Come on!” shouted one of them. “Fat boy up there’s an easy target.”

  “Okay,” said another. “Double or nothing I hit him in the balls.”

  There was a grunt, then another bottle sailing through the air.

  This one whizzed right by my head, connecting with Carlos’s thigh and falling down right towards me. I just barely managed to swat it out of the air before it connected with me. It crashed on the ground below, the men shouting out in disappointment.

  “Damn, nice reflexes on that one!” said one of the men.

  Carlos and I reached the first level of the fire escape, the long ladder below us.

  “All right,” said another of the men. “Time to kill these pricks. See what’s in that backpack.”

  Carlos regarded me with a frantic, worried expression, one that said “now what?” without needing to utter the words.

  “The ladder!” I said. “Pull it up!”

  Thankfully, the ladder was on a rail, and could be lifted. The men below began to climb onto the dumpster, but right before the first could grab onto the ladder, Carlos and I pulled it up and onto the first level of the fire escape.

  Safe—for now.

  “Pussies!” shouted one of the men. “Come back down here and fight!”

  Not a chance.

  “Up the stairs!” I said.

  Carlos nodded and began going up and up, each level of the fire escape putting more distance between us and the men. The shouts and taunts from below became quieter by the second, all but disappearing once we climbed onto the roof and fell down onto our asses.

  “Holy shit,” said Carlos, catching his breath. “That was close.”

  I nodded.

  “No kidding.”

  We said nothing for a few minutes as we recovered from the rush. My stomach growled, and I remembered that I’d taken those packets of nuts from the shop. I took them out and pitched one over to Carlos.

  “Eat,” I said. “We’re burning through calories like crazy.”

  Telling Carlos to eat wasn’t necessary, it turned out. His eyes lit up at the sight of the package, and he didn’t waste any time ripping the top open and dumping the salty snacks into his mouth. I did the same. After chewing and swallowing, he spoke.

  “Now what?” he asked. “We’re still in the middle of the Strip, and you know there are gonna be more guys like that running around.”

  “Good question,” I said as I listened to
the commotion down below.

  I considered the idea of spending the night on the roof and starting again in the morning, but the idea of leaving Steve alone overnight was totally unacceptable. If only we could make it past the Strip, the rest of the trip would be a straight shot.

  A flash of realization took hold of Carlos’s features.

  “Wait a minute,” he said. “I think I know where we are. And if so…”

  He polished off the rest of his nuts, crumpled the bag and tossed it, then got up and ran over to the far side of the roof. I watched him with curiosity as I popped a few of the cheap, salty peanuts into my mouth.

  “Yeah!” he said, pointing to somewhere off in the distance. “Come on!”

  “You serious?” I asked.

  “Definitely!” he said, his eyes wide with excitement.

  I got up and stepped over to him.

  “Where?”

  “Right there.”

  He pointed off into the middle distance.

  “What am I looking at?”

  “That black building right there,” he said.

  Sure enough, he was pointing at a medium-sized warehouse a half-mile or so away.

  “What is it?”

  “Surprise,” he said. “But if it’s still up and running it’ll be the best place to hide out until the riot’s over. Come on—no time to waste!”

  He hurried over to the fire escape on the far side of the building and began descending the stairs right away. I was surprised to see him move with such urgency.

  “What is that?” I asked as I followed him.

  “You’ll see!”

  Then he disappeared down the fire escape.

  Intrigued, I went down too, and a minute or so later we were down in the alley on the other side of the building as the alley we’d first entered from. Carlos hurried across the street ahead, moving through the alleys and making his way towards the large building. I stayed close, wondering what the hell I was getting myself into.

  Before too long, we arrived at the warehouse.

  “Okay,” I said. “Tell me what this is.”

  “Not yet,” he said. “Don’t want to get your hopes up. Let’s see if they’re even still open.”

  It was strange to hear him say “still open,” like it was a holiday and we were checking to see if a grocery store were closed. But Carlos approached the large steel door, took a breath, and gave it a quick knock.

  Nothing.

  “Seriously,” I said. “Tell me what’s—”

  A small slat on the door opened up, a pair of eyes on the other side.

  “Password.”

  “Hey!” said Carlos. “It’s me. Wanted to see if you guys were still doing what you do.”

  Silence for a moment.

  “Password,” the man repeated.

  “Aw, seriously?” asked Carlos.

  He glanced away for a moment, as if trying to scan through some mental files.

  “Um, um,” he said. “Oh yeah!”

  He cleared his throat and spoke.

  “Uh, aurum et gloria,” he said.

  The eyes regarding him for a moment before flicking over to me.

  “That a plus-one?” the invisible speaker asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” said Carlos. “He’s with me. He’s good.”

  The steel shut closed with a bang, followed by the sound of lock after lock being opened. Then the door opened up, revealing a darkened hallway.

  “Come on,” said Carlos, stepping inside.

  I took one last glance behind me at the now nearly completely darkened sky. I had no idea where Carlos was leading me, but it had to be better than the Strip at night.

  I entered behind him, the door shutting when I stepped in.

  Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw the man who’d been standing behind the door, a tough-looking guy in a well-fitted black suit. He scanned me up and down before grabbing me by the arm and pulling me close.

  “Hey, what the hell?” I asked.

  “Pat down,” he said.

  “Not a chance,” I said.

  “Then the exit’s right there.”

  “Come on, J,” said Carlos, clearly eager to get inside.

  “Fine,” I said.

  The man nodded before giving me a quick pat. His hand settled on the flashlight, then he left it alone. With a quick yank, he opened up my backpack and began rooting through it.

  “Better not see you using these on the floor,” he said, apparently referring to the painkillers.

  “They’re for actual painkilling,” I said.

  “Whatever,” he said.

  He pulled the backpack zipper close, stepped in front of me, and gave me a nod.

  “Welcome to the Troika,” he said, pointing down the dark hall.

  “Yes!” said Carlos. “Come on!”

  He began hurrying down the hall and, still confused, I followed after him, my hand instinctively moving for the flashlight.

  As we made our way further down, I heard the steady thumping of bass through the walls, then music.

  “They got a band here?” I asked.

  “Something like that,” he said, not slowing down.

  At the end of the hall, two massive guards stood in front of a tall double door, one far fancier than I’d expect from a warehouse.

  “You ready for this?” asked Carlos, as eager as a kid on Christmas morning.

  The men gave us a look over before pulling open the doors.

  My jaw nearly hit the ground at what they revealed.

  No. I wasn’t ready.

  Not even in the slightest.

  Chapter 21

  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

  The interior of the warehouse was a massive, multi-level casino, packed full of men and women in expensive clothes, all of them gambling or eating or drinking or chatting or all of them at once. The sounds of conversation and music filled the air, broken only by the occasional cheer when someone hit it big at one of the tables.

  But that wasn’t the most incredible thing.

  There was electricity.

  The casino floor was bathed in bright lights, some flashing and multicolored. On the stage far in the back a band played something brash and uptempo, a PA system blasting their music through enormous speakers. Rows and rows of slot machines, gamblers seated in front of nearly all of them, rang and chimed and dispensed piles of coins.

  It was beyond belief. It was like the pulse had never happened.

  For a moment, I wondered if I’d been in the middle of a bad dream, just now waking and entering yet another casino like the Medley that Steve had insisted I go to.

  “How about that, huh?” asked Carlos, a big smile on his face, his eyes wide with excitement.

  “What the…” I said, stepping further onto the casino floor. “How…how is this possible?”

  “I’ll tell you, man,” he said. “Right now, I don’t know about you, but I need a drink. Come on!”

  He gestured me to follow him towards one of the many luxury bars on the casino floor. Not knowing what else to do, I followed him.

  Moments later the two of us were seated at a high-top bar table, a pair of drink menus in front of us.

  “Uh, I don’t have any money,” I said, as if that were the biggest of my concerns.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Drinks are on me, bud. Least I can do for the guy who got me here safe and sound.”

  I turned back towards the casino floor, still in a state of shock from what I was seeing. There had to be hundreds of people there, all of them focused on their drinks or cards or food and not giving a care to what was happening in the world outside their walls.

  “There’s food, too,” said Carlos. “So eat up, J.”

  My stomach growled something fierce at the mere mention of food. Without thinking, I grabbed the menu and began scanning it. Before too long, a well-dressed server approached.

  “Welcome to the Troika,” he said. “Just to let you gentl
emen be aware, due to the events on the rest of the Strip our cocktails and meals are currently at a premium.”

  “What kind of premium?” asked Carlos.

  “Whatever the normal price is, multiply it by five.”

  Carlos’s eyes went wide for a moment before the dopey smile returned.

  “Whatever!” he said. “We’re celebrating, you know! After the shit we went through I think some good booze is the least we’ve earned.”

  He nodded at me.

  “Um,” I said, still wrapping my head around the fact that I was being waited on. “A whiskey. Double. And some water.”

  “Give me one of those piña coladas,” said Carlos. “An extra big one, with extra rum. Oh, and extra fruit.”

  “Extra fruit is, ah, extra,” said the bartender.

  “It’s all good,” said Carlos. “And it’s all going on my tab.”

  “Very good,” said the bartender before hurrying off.

  When he was gone, Carlos sat back in his chair and folded his hands on his belly, that same smile still on his face.

  “Damn,” he said. “Never thought I’d be so glad to see this place.”

  “Okay,” I said flatly, sweeping my hand towards the casino floor. “How is this possible?”

  “It’s the Troika!” Carlos said, as if that answered all my questions.

  “I get that,” I said. “But…there’s electricity!”

  “I know,” he said. “Isn’t that cool?”

  “It’s incredible,” I said.

  I looked around again, noting just how similar the place looked to the Medley last night. It was as if nothing had happened.

  “How is this possible?” I said again.

  He shrugged.

  “See, this place is, um, how do I say it…not totally on-the-level.”

  “What?”

  “I mean it’s not a licensed casino.”

  “Then how is it open?”

  “There’s some family,” he said. “Some big criminal group that controls the place. And they’ve got enough money to pay off the city to make sure that no one messes with them.”

  My mind reeled at the idea of any group having enough cash to bribe the entire city government, and not to mention the other casinos, to make sure no one bothered them. The money and power it would take to pull something like that off…