Las Vegas NV

by TW Brown

  11

  Down the Strip

  They rolled along on Interstate 15, approaching the area most people now considered to be Las Vegas. They cruised past the Sahara Avenue exit and drew ever nearer to what Joel saw as their ultimate destination.

  The next sign overhead read: Spring Mtn. Road.

  To the left, what had once been a gold-tinted hotel had obviously suffered a massive fire and partial collapse. The sounds of muffled laughter filtered into Joel’s ears.

  Covering his mic, Joel called up to Malik, “What’s so funny?”

  “Rump Tower on the left,” was the reply.

  Joel looked over and saw that indeed the damage to the structure had eliminated the letter ‘T’ from the logo at the top of the building. “What are we…twelve now?”

  “C’mon…it’s a little funny,” Malik snorted. Even Debra let out a slight chuckle. Joel shook his head and continued to keep his eyes scanning in front of them as they neared their exit. This would bring them in at the exact opposite end of the strip on South Las Vegas Boulevard that Will’s group would arrive.

  As they’d drawn closer, it was apparent that several fires were burning. Once they reached the exit and passed over the interstate and eventually reached the main strip, the real horror of the situation became apparent.

  The haze of smoke was thick in places to the point where it was impossible to see much past the end of the hood of the Humvee. It was also that cloud of smoke that was hiding just how much damage had actually been inflicted.

  The sounds of gunfire came in bursts. After each one, a blanket of silence would cover the scene, made even more ominous by the sound dampening caused due to the ever-thickening smoke. The smoke was also practically alive with dark figures that wove, staggered, and stumbled about.

  “This sucks,” Debra snarled between clenched teeth as one of the undead meandered directly in front of them.

  The Humvee struck it hard with a wet crunch. The zombie vanished from view and the wheels rolled over it, rocking the vehicle and making a terrible noise that made Joel flinch reflexively.

  A scream tore from someplace to the right and Joel pressed his face to the window in an attempt to see something. The only thing he saw even the slightest bit clearly was the shadowy form of a motorcycle rolling just a few feet away on his side.

  “We need to get out of this shit,” Malik called down. “I honestly can’t shoot a damn thing without the risk of hitting the bikers.”

  “Just keep your eyes peeled,” Joel called up.

  Just as he spoke, they emerged from the dense cloud of smoke into an area that was relatively clear. For just a moment, Joel wished they were blinded by the smoke again. Already it had been apparent that what had only recently been considered the crown jewel of the New Las Vegas was in ruins. But now, he could see clearly the scope of the destruction that had befallen this once grand section of the new Strip.

  His eyes flicked to the ruined CVS sign. Any hopes of possibly hitting that place on the way out evaporated in the flames pouring from the windows. Debra had taken her foot off the gas as the scene unfurled before them

  To the right, what had once been Treasure Island had a few black smudges from old fires, but did not seem as bad as what waited for them up ahead. The pirate ship in front had taken the brunt of the damage on initial glance. It was now little more than a smoldering husk of its former self. However, a pair of thrashing corpses still dangled from the main mast.

  “What’s the point?” Debra leaned toward Joel as she took in the scene with a sniff of disgust.

  “If that is the worst thing we see, I’ll consider us very lucky,” Joel said as he brought his binoculars up, confirming that the bodies were indeed zombies. Both were still moving their legs and reaching out with their arms, making no attempt to lessen the noose around their necks.

  On their left, the Palazzo hotel and casino complex had not fared nearly as well. From the looks, somebody had used it for tank firing practice. There were gaping holes that sometimes extended two and three floors with smoke still seeping from them. There were also a number of bodies scattered about on the pavement and even a few dangling from or poking through the decorative plants that were now as dead as the bodies rotting in their midst.

  Up ahead, the going proved to be a bit tricky. An overpass that allowed foot traffic to cross over South Las Vegas Boulevard had a large section blown out. All the debris littered the road and they had to swing over and drive against what would’ve one been the regular flow of traffic as their entire lane was clogged. As they rolled past, Joel was certain that he saw assorted limbs jutting from the debris…many of them still moving and twitching.

  They crossed back over as they rolled past the Venetian. On Joel’s side was what had been a large man-made water feature made to look like an oasis. The water had stopped long ago and now it was populated by the undead. The sound of the Humvee had drawn their attention and many were trying in vain to climb up and out of what had once been a pond fed by a multi-tiered, ziggurat-shaped waterfall. Nose down in the dry pond bed was the typical shuttle bus with its massive advertisement for, of all things, a zombie-themed burlesque show. These “zombies” looked nothing like the ones now staggering about. The scantily clad female beckoned with bright blue lips and flowing ruby-tinted hair as a man with far too many defined ab muscles in Joel’s opinion held his arms wide to embrace what looked to be a nun with massive breasts. Closer inspection revealed the nun to be a man in drag. Joel wondered if any of them had fared well and then just as quickly dismissed them from all thoughts.

  At the familiar arch of a McDonald’s, they once again had to change lanes as the giant globe with fragments of the Harrah’s logo sat in the middle of their side of the street. This was also about as far as they would get in their vehicles. Just ahead the road was clogged with traffic that would never clear.

  “There,” Joel said, pointing to what looked like the descending driveway that would take them below the hotel and casino known as the LINQ. They could cross back over to that side of the street and whip the vehicles around so that they were pointing out.

  As soon as Debra wheeled the Humvee around, Joel grabbed his small pack from between the seats and jumped out of the vehicle, leaving her to park it as he met with the bikers pulling up.

  “You sure about this?” Reggie pulled his helmet off and looked around with uncertainty.

  Joel looked at what waited for them as well as what was now stumbling towards them from the direction they’d come. He was about to answer when all the radios his team carried came to life at once with static and then gunfire. Eventually, a voice carried. The deathly quiet that existed made it seem as if the voice bounced off the walls and echoed the length of Las Vegas Boulevard.

  “Boss man, this is Bravo Team. We are in position and can see you. Please confirm status.”

  Joel smiled. There had been no plan or contingency made for him coming across a group of bikers. Will had broken radio silence to confirm that he and his team weren’t in trouble.

  “Bravo, this is Alpha Actual…we have some extra hands on the ranch who are willing to buck some hay.” Joel glanced at Reggie and shrugged.

  “Umm…okay?” Will replied, confusion obvious in his voice.

  “You do know that Barnes gets flustered easily,” Debra scoffed as she walked up with her M4 assault rifle fitted with a grenade launcher under the barrel slung across her chest, and a pair of nasty sickle-shaped blades dangling from each hip. Adding to her portable arsenal were a pair of .45s at about mid-ribcage and a shotgun over her shoulder.

  “You sayin’ Will is just a pretty face?” Joel quipped.

  Debra leveled her gaze at him, her lips pressed tight. “If he can see us, then where the hell is he?”

  “Umm…I think I know where,” one of the bikers said, pointing up the street.

  Joel shielded his eyes from the sun and scanned in the direction the woman was pointing. Up ahead was an intact overpass. Dangling
from the middle was a gigantic pirate flag. A few people stood at the rail with one of them waving both arms overhead.

  “Subtle,” Debra said as she walked away from the group, angling towards a pair of undead shambling in the direction of the idling vehicles. With two quick thrusts, she plunged her blade into the temple of each and then turned back to the group. “If this is our staging area, then I say we shut down the vehicles and move out of here. Odds are we’re probably going to have to fight off more than a few of these things when we get back unless we leave a few people behind to keep the area clear.”

  “Who wants to volunteer to stay with the vehicles?” Joel asked. “I want one of my people here and one of the member of our new companions.”

  After a few moments of people looking back and forth at each other, Joel blew out an exasperated breath. “This isn’t some sort of a test. I won’t penalize anybody for staying here.”

  Finally, a young man stepped forward. Reggie pointed to a woman in his group and motioned for her to join the young man.

  With that, the rest of the bikers fell in with Joel’s group and started up the road. They crossed over to the side of the road where the smoldering ruins of Caesar’s Palace remained. The undead coming from the direction they were heading altered their course, some of them falling over when they tried to navigate the palm trees that marked the center of the road.

  “There’s no way we make it to your group up there without getting dirty,” Reggie said as he stepped in beside Joel, matching his stride as they headed into the parking lot that sat across an open drive that led to the main entrance of Caesar’s Palace.

  As if fate chose that moment to prove Reggie correct, there was the sound of breaking glass from just ahead and to their right. A horde of undead vomited from the main entrance and into the area where countless people had pulled in as they checked in for a vacation with hopes of striking it lucky.

  The group altered their course to intercept the undead. As they neared, Joel called out, “Try not to use any firearms unless it is a last resort. We don’t want to bring any more down on us.”

  “Or give away our position,” Reggie said in a whisper meant only for Joel to hear.

  Joel realized that, for all his dismissal of the undead as a legitimate threat, he hadn’t had that many encounters that he hadn’t gone into either in full control of the situation, or at least on the offensive. There was certainly a different feeling now that they were out in the open and reacting to the zombies. If there were only a few, then that would be one thing, but as Joel watched, more and more of them came streaming out of the shattered entrance to Caesar’s. The revolving doors must’ve been jammed with the things and finally given way at this exact moment.

  The first zombie he reached was exactly what he was used to when he encountered tourists any time he left his suite and filtered down to the ground level. The woman was at least a hundred pounds overweight and dressed in the remnants of gaudy, flashy clothing meant to give the appearance of wealth. When did rhinestones ever equate to monetary success or fashion sense, he wondered briefly as he drove his blade into her eye socket.

  The next couple were even worse in matching shirts. The man was easily six feet and sporting a beanpole physique. The woman was just over five feet, if that, and pushing two hundred pounds. That was always a dynamic that made him curious? Did the man simply have an amazing metabolism, or did the woman just eat that much more and get off her butt that much less? Whatever the case, both dropped just as quick when he drove his blade into their eye sockets. (He’d heard a lot of the individuals that made numerous runs out into the area for supplies saying that was the most efficient way to finish a zombie and had quickly adopted that method.)

  Only once did he find himself in the slightest bit of danger. He was finishing one of the undead and had wandered close to the entrance. There were decorative shrubs in place and one of the zombies had somehow drifted into the greenery unnoticed. It had lunged from the bush and caught Joel’s right arm just as he was pulling his blade free from his latest kill.

  The small Asian woman bit down before Joel could jerk free. Her teeth were not able to rip through the combination of a heavy leather jacket and all he suffered was a dull pain that would undoubtedly turn to a bruise. He was also surprised at the bite strength. He’d been in a few ugly hand-to-fights during his time in Vietnam. More than once, he’d been bitten in those fights. The first time had caught him entirely off guard. This was different somehow. He would reflect on it later when he could spare a part of his mind for it, but for now he filed it away that zombies obviously had improved bite strength.

  Jerking free, he used his left leg to sweep the zombie woman’s feet from under her. Stomping onto her chest, he pinned her to the ground and then brought his knife down to end her for good.

  At last they’d cleared the horde and Joel looked around to realize that they’d had to battle many more undead than he’d first thought. Either that, or there just looked like more with the bodies strewn about the ground. They hadn’t suffered a single casualty; that was the important thing at the moment. Just as they finished, Will and his group arrived with weapons drawn.

  “A little late for the party, Barnes,” Debra scoffed as she wiped off one of her sickle-shaped blades and returned it to a loop on her belt.

  “What the hell happened?” Will gasped as he took in the carnage scattered about.

  “They were probably all clustered at the front and the glass finally gave,” Joel said as he started toward the walkway that led over the street that was becoming even more congested with the walking dead. “But we need to get moving before we bring more of those bastards down on us.”

  The entire group didn’t seem to need to be told twice. They fell in and started up the stairs to the walkway. As they crossed over, a new burst of gunfire sounded from somewhere up ahead. The way noise bounced off all the tall buildings coupled with the unnatural silence that had fallen on the city, it was impossible to pin down the exact location, but Joel had no doubt they needed to head toward the remaining towers of the Signature Suites.

  “I think the best course of action would be to get to the monorail tracks and follow them. If it is safe enough, we could cover most of our distance up on those tracks with little chance of having to deal with any of that.” Joel waved his hands at the growing number of zombies filing onto the streets from behind what seemed like every vehicle and shadow. He had to wonder how they’d made the trip as far as they had with so little resistance.

  They reached the other side and hurried down the stairs to street level again. The stench of the growing numbers of zombies had become gaggingly thick by now and a couple of the bikers paused, hands on knees to wretch, the sound of liquid splattering the sidewalk adding to the hellish soundtrack of the moans of the nearing army of undead.

  Joel was now reassessing his dismissal of the undead as a threat. Anything by itself was not something he necessarily would be afraid of, but anything in great numbers was a different story. This was the strength of the zombie. They congregated and grew like a snowball being rolled in the yard to create the base of a snowman. In time, they would be too much…too overwhelming in their numbers. And while he was seeing some with massive injuries, he realized there was one thing he wasn’t seeing…decay. Biology would indicate that these things would have to eventually rot and just fall apart. It had been weeks, and some of these things looked like they’d been in the first group to fall. Their injuries were dried and the blood had turned almost completely black. Even the internal organs that were visible looked almost like leather. Some of that might be attributed to the heat of the Nevada sun, but there had been a few rainstorms along the way. These bodies should be deteriorating.

  This would be just another thing he would add to his list of things to look into when he had some spare time. He refused to listen to the voice in his head that said the list was becoming unmanageable.

  Reaching the intersection, they turned up Flaming
o Road and had to make the quick decision of using the pedestrian walkway or running down the street. Joel’s mind had already decided that giving up the limited protection that the sidewalk offered would be made up tenfold by the ability of their group not to have to stagger into an almost single-file line. Also, they would have multiple options if they had to maneuver.

  Everybody spread out as they ran along, the only sounds from them coming from their boots hitting the pavement, but to Joel, it sounded like thunder. He was certain they were bringing out more undead with every step they took and that the return trip might be a bit more of a challenge.

  An explosion sounded as they passed the entrance of Bally’s on their right. A flash was visible up ahead and to the right which only made Joel more certain that they were indeed headed for their main objective.

  They reached the monorail tracks which were overhead and out of reach. He knew there was a platform someplace close, but they were also in front of a building that had obviously been ransacked. All the front facing glass had been shattered and a letterboard sign had the words “GET DRUNK AND DIE HAPPY” in mismatched red and black letters. There was a concrete barricade on the side of the building that would make it possible for then to climb up on top of the small building and then traverse over by using a power pole. It seemed like a lot of work, but Joel knew well enough that they would have to venture into some tight spaces and dark areas to reach a proper boarding platform. Also, they would have to backtrack into where the zombies had apparently been all stirred up by their passing. Besides, his people had the gear they would need and it was no surprise when Debra stepped forward, hopped up onto the barricade and then hoisted herself onto the roof of the ransacked liquor store.

  In what felt like forever but was just a moment or two, she had tossed a line over to the monorail racks with a grappling hook and secured one end to an exhaust pipe on the building’s roof. She’d had Will help so that she could get the line a few turns around the power pole to add to the line’s stability. Grabbing it with her hands and her back to the monorail, she threw her legs over the line and then began shimmying across the open space. When she reached the power pole, she let her legs slip off the line and then swapped over to the taut line on the other side and repeated the process until she was at the monorail tracks. Grabbing with one arm, she threw it over and then hoisted herself up.