Fighting Chance - A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller (Lights Out in Vegas Book 3)

by Sean Patten

  Hopkins looked conflicted, concerned.

  “You okay over there?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Don’t know if ‘okay’ is the word I’d use, but I’m…getting used to things. I hate to admit it, but part of me thought I’d be able to hide out down here while the world went to hell up above. But deep down I knew it wasn’t going to last.”

  “It’s…not,” I said. “But think about it like this—the world you’re going to go up to is one that’s different than the one you left behind. It’ll be a chance to make a new start, to find a place.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not going to be a nightmare until the worst of this settles down. God knows how long that’s going to take.”

  “That brings me to the next thing I had in mind,” I said. “I’ve got my place in New Mexico, the shelter than I’ve been working on. It’s not totally finished, but it’s isolated and far away from the city. Got food and clean water and guns and everything else we’ll need to stay away from the worst of what’s about to happen.”

  “Sounds like heaven,” said Hopkins.

  “Might be the closest thing to it we’re going to find here on earth,” said Steve.

  I cleared my throat and spoke.

  “And…I want you to come with us there.”

  Hopkins’ eyebrows rose.

  “Are you serious?” he asked.

  “I am,” I said. “Bunker’s only got enough supplies for us to last a year or so, but if we make them stretch, maybe do a little hunting and gathering, we might be able to stay far away from the shit that’s going to break out in the cities.”

  Just the thought of how the major centers like Vegas were going to look over the next few months was enough to make my gut tighten. If we could just get back to New Mexico…

  “Shit,” said Hopkins, sitting back. “That sounds like a damn fine offer.”

  “Not too much different than what you’ve got going on right now,” said Kelly. “Except instead of underground you’d be out in nature.”

  “And you’d have to put up with us,” said Steve with a smirk.

  “But we wouldn’t just be killing time,” I said. “We’d be keeping track of how things are going on the outside, seeing if society’s ready to be rebuilt. And maybe, when the world’s ready, we can start seeing about doing some serious good.”

  Hopkins said nothing. He stared off into space, and I could tell the gears of his mind were working.

  “He looks like you,” said Kelly, her face lighting up.

  “Huh?” asked Hopkins.

  “Sorry,” said Kelly. “It’s just that the look you have on your face—Justin gets that, where he stares off into the distance.”

  Hopkins cracked a smile.

  “It’s how I get my best thinking done,” he said.

  “If thinking’s what you need to do,” I said. “Then you can take your time.”

  He shook his head.

  “Don’t need to think,” he said. “I’m on board. Count me in.”

  I stuck out my hand to Hopkins and he took it, giving it a firm shake.

  “I barely know you, Justin,” he said. “But something about you tells me that whatever happens next, you’re going to be a big part of it. Call it a hunch.”

  He turned to Kelly and Steve.

  “All of you,” he said. “The world’s in total flux right now, and the actions of a few are going to echo out in ways that they couldn’t before.”

  He snorted, a small smile on his lips.

  “But that’s nothing to worry about. Focus on the here and now.”

  Here and now. Another mirror image of myself in Hopkins.

  “So,” said Kelly. “We’ve got the long-term plans figured out. But now we need to figure out what to do in the immediate future, right?”

  “Right,” I said. “We’ve got a 500-mile trek across desert ahead of us.”

  “How long would that take to walk?” asked Steve.

  “You kidding?” asked Hopkins. “A trip like that…be a good month. And that’s assuming we put in a full day, every day.”

  “Uh, Justin…” Steve said, reaching down and patting his leg.

  “Right,” I said, thinking quickly. There was no way that Steve could make a trip like that in his condition.

  “We need to find a car,” I said. “People are starting to figure out that there are few out there still working, which means that when they find one they’re going to hold onto it like it’s worth its weight in gold.

  “Car’s the only way to do it,” said Hopkins. “We find one, it shouldn’t take us more than a day to make the drive. Cars will be all over the roads, which means gas won’t be a problem.”

  “Then let’s quit screwing around,” said Steve. “Let’s get some food in our bellies, and get moving.”

  “I’m with Steve,” said Kelly. “The less time we wait, the better.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said.

  “Not a chance,” said Hopkins.

  “Huh?”

  The noise came out of all three of us at once.

  “I know you kids are champing at the bit, but we need to play this smart.”

  He turned to me.

  “Justin, how many hours of sleep are you on right now?”

  I considered the question.

  “Just a—”

  “And keep in mind the ‘sleep’ you got when that punk kid knocked you out and I dragged your ass here doesn’t count.”

  “Then…none,” I said.

  “And you, Steve,” he said. “You’re patched up, but that wound needs rest to heal.”

  He turned to Kelly.

  “And I don’t know what you’ve been through, but something tells me that if you’ve been hanging around with this knucklehead then you’re going to be needing some rest, too.”

  I wanted to protest, but the mere mention of rest was enough to make my body feel heavy.

  “We need food and water and sleep,” Hopkins said firmly. “No compromising on any of it. One thing you learn in the service is to get your rest whenever you can, even if the circumstances are less than ideal. And these circumstances we’ve got right now are about as ideal as they’re going to get.”

  None of us said a word. He was right, and there was no point in arguing.

  “Kelly, you can take the couch,” Hopkins said. “Steve, you take the bed.”

  “No,” he said. “I couldn’t—”

  “Not another word about it. No sleeping on the floor with that leg of yours.”

  He turned to me.

  “And you and I can get nice and cozy in that alcove,” he said with a smirk.

  Since he’d brought up the subject the fatigue that I’d been ignoring caught up with me. At that moment I’d have been happy to sleep on the ground.

  “I’ll make a little food,” said Hopkins. “Then it’s time for rest. Figure it’s about two a.m. right now, we can get a few hours in then get up bright and early and get this show on the road. Sound good?”

  We all made our noises of agreement.

  As I sipped my drink, Hopkins went to work on a simple stew, much like the one he’d served me earlier. And damned if it didn’t hit the spot as much as it had before. With a little food and booze in my belly, I felt ready for sleep.

  Steve got comfortable on the couch as Hopkins showed Kelly to the curtained alcove where she’d be sleeping. Once that was done, Hopkins threw a little more fuel onto the fire before leading me to the same place where I’d rested before.

  It wasn’t a huge space, but it was more than big enough for the two of us.

  Hopkins looked me in the eye.

  “I hope you’re not one of those people that can’t sleep next to someone without cuddling with them.”

  He shot me a smile, then, and let out a laugh.

  “Don’t think I am,” I said. “But should we figure out who’s the big spoon and who’s the little one now? Might save us som
e time later.”

  He chuckled.

  “You try that and don’t be surprised if my close-quarters combat instincts come back,” he said.

  We both laughed, but right in the middle of it, a thought gripped me. My hand shot to my back pocket to confirm that the medal was still there.

  “You okay over there?” asked Hopkins. “Looked like you just remembered you left the oven on.”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  I took the box out, opened it up, and let my eyes linger on the medal.

  “Was supposed to leave this at my dad’s grave while I was in town,” I said. “Guess I won’t be getting a chance to do that.”

  “Maybe not,” he said. “But make sure you hang onto that thing. Bet you’ll be able to find another way to honor him if you keep your eyes open.”

  I nodded before slipping the medal back into my pocket.

  Then I placed my head on the pillow and closed my eyes and was out like a light.

  Chapter 23

  “Get up, Justin! We gotta move!”

  I was underwater in the dream I was having. I’d been lounging around on some beach, my bare feet in the water. Perfect temperature, too—not too cold, not too warm. But as I sat in the sand, the sum warming on my beaming smile, the water had begun to move.

  First it just rippled, small concentric circles moving outward from my ankles. But then it began to slosh around, as if I were in a bath and someone had stuck their hand beneath the surface of the water and began violently splashing it. My sense of easy relaxation turned to panic as the formerly calm waters turned into a wild eddy, the speed and power of the current dragging me and pulling me under.

  And that’s when I woke up.

  The first thing I noticed was that I was wet. Then my eyes focused on Hopkins standing over me, his dripping wet hair plastered to his face, his eyes wild.

  “Come on!” he shouted. “Place is flooding! We don’t out of here right now, we’re done for!”

  Now I was wide awake.

  I took a quick look around me, realizing that I was lying in a pool of water an inch or so deep. In the background was the sound of roaring water.

  The real world, it seemed, had crept into my dream world. Only now, there was no waking up.

  “What’s going on?” I yelled, a surge of adrenaline pushing the last traces of sleep from my body.

  “Told you, place is flooding! We gotta go now, now, now!”

  Hopkins shot out his hand towards me and I took it without a moment’s consideration. He pulled me to my feet and together the two of us ran out of the alcove and into the main room.

  “Justin!” shouted Kelly from where she sat on the couch, her feet curled up by her body and away from the rising water. “What’s going on?”

  “I know just as much as you!” I said.

  Looking around, I saw that water was pouring in from the top of the space. Steve hobbled out from the small room that served as Hopkins’ bedroom, his body propped up on a dingy-looking crutch that looked like it’d been salvaged from a dumpster.

  “This is bad,” he said.

  “No shit,” I said.

  A boom sounded through the sewer, one so loud it seemed to rumble the floor.

  “Hear that?” Hopkins asked. “That’s thunder. Must be a hell of a storm raging up above! Normally the sewers can handle the water, but…”

  He trailed off, but I didn’t need his help to finish the sentence. Whatever mechanisms in the sewer took care of rainwater weren’t operating, which meant that the place was being flooded from a deluge up above. I’d figured it would happen at some point, but not this soon.

  “No time to talk about it!” shouted Steve over the pouring water. “We have to go!”

  Hopkins’ eyes snapped here and there in the room as he appeared to try to figure out what was important and what could be left behind. He then ducked into the alcove with the food and water and came out with a handful of reusable cloth grocery bags.

  “Grab what you can!” he shouted. “Because we need to be out of here five minutes ago!”

  I nodded and the group went to it. One after the other, we rushed into the pantry and grabbed what we could. There was plenty in there, and I realized quickly that nearly all of it was going to go to waste. After sizing up the stores I filled my bag with canned goods, making sure to grab the can opener.

  Steve, next to me, filled his bag as quickly as he could with the crutch tucked under his arm. Once his bag was full he turned to leave, flipping back around on his heels as if he’d forgotten something.

  “There!” he said.

  His hand went right for a bottle of booze—some expensive scotch among the cheap stuff.

  “Priorities,” I said in a wry tone.

  He flashed me a smile as we left the pantry, Kelly and Hopkins entering behind us.

  By the time we were loaded up with whatever we could carry the water had reached our ankles. Having soaked socks and shoes was the last thing we needed, but food had to take priority at this point.

  “Okay,” said Hopkins. “Follow me!”

  All of us began to move, except Kelly.

  “What about everyone else?” she asked. “There’s hundreds of people down here, right?”

  The question was answered in our minds the moment she asked it. Seemingly at the same time, we all realized that there wasn’t anything we could do.

  “They know this place,” said Hopkins. “And if we try and save others at this point, we’ll likely die trying. Is that what you want?”

  No one argued with him, and Hopkins took our silence for agreement.

  “This way,” he said, pointing down the far end of the hallway outside his home. “And don’t stop for anything!”

  He didn’t need to tell us twice.

  Together, bags in hand, the four of us hurried down the sewer passage, flashlights in all of our hands, four beams cutting through the dark and casting illumination on the endless inflow of water from up above.

  It wasn’t long before we began to encounter other sewer dwellers, all of them leaving in the same eager panic as we were, bags in hands, whatever they’d decided was important enough to carry before abandoning the rest of their lives to the rising waters.

  We kept on, dozens of feet now splashing through the tunnels, shrieks and cries of panic filling the air. I flicked the flashlight back, seeing that a crowd of people was hot on our tail. Once again I found myself in the middle of a panicked mob, this time in the middle of a murky black, only a few beams of light to see the way.

  “This is bad,” said Steve, his crutch clanging against the metal floor.

  “I know,” I said, trying not to let him get too far behind. “Just keep going.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he said through his grunts. “You’re not the one who’s in—”

  A surprised cry sounded from him and he dropped to his knees.

  “Wait!” I shouted to Hopkins and Kelly, who were already ahead of us.

  They turned around to see the same that I had—Steve’s crutch had gotten stuck in a small hole in the floor grating, causing him to drop.

  “Leave it!” I shouted.

  “I can’t!” he said. “I can’t walk without this thing!”

  He was right—without a crutch, Steve would barely be able to crawl with the wound he had. I whipped around to see Kelly and Hopkins still waiting and watching, dozens of people running past them on both sides.

  “Get out of here!” I shouted. “I’ve got this!”

  “No way we’re leaving you two behind,” Kelly replied firmly, not budging an inch.

  “Just go without me,” said Steve. “I’m just going to slow you down.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I said, my eyes fixed on the crutch.

  I turned to Hopkins.

  “Where’s the exit?” I asked.

  “Keep going straight and take a left!” he called back. “It’ll let you out on the Strip.”

  Back to the Strip. I di
dn’t like it one bit.

  “Go!” I shouted. “We’ll meet you in front of the Medley!”

  The two of them continued to stare.

  “Go!” I shouted. “I’ll find you!”

  They finally got it, Hopkins nodding before placing his hand on Kelly’s shoulder and leading her into the darkness.

  And then they were gone.

  “Shit,” said Steve. “This thing’s really jammed.”

  Sewer dwellers rushed around both sides of us, the stench of body odor mingling with the scent of sewer water.

  “Hold on,” I said, grabbing onto the bottom of the crutch.

  It took some twisting and turning, but I was eventually able to get the thing free from where it’d been stuck.

  “There,” I said. “Let’s move!”

  Once Steve was back on his feet, the crutch tucked under his arm, he gave me a nod as we started off again.

  By this point the water was up to my mid-calf, sludgy and shit-smelling.

  “No way I’m dying down here,” said Steve. “Not going to happen.”

  “Didn’t you just say to leave you behind?” I asked, tucking one arm around his shoulder and helping him along.

  “That was before I saw a fucking turd floating in front of me,” he said. “I hope you’re not too attached to those fancy duds you’re wearing, because they’re never going to be the same after this.”

  “Last thing on my mind right now,” I said, laughing in spite of myself.

  We continued on, eventually taking the turn that Hopkins had told us about. Before we went around, I shined the flashlight behind me, seeing more and more people rushing down the sewer drain. The water was up to my knees, and it began to sink in that however many people were going to make it out, even more than that wouldn’t. Hundreds of the city’s poor were going to meet their end in the sewers that morning, drowning in Vegas’s filth.

  Here and now. Here and now.

  “Almost there!” I shouted.

  Steve and I continued on, the light from the large pipe leading to the Strip eventually appearing in the distance, the light flickering as people moved in front of it, all of them in the same mad scramble to flee with their lives.

  “Help!”

  The word cut clearly through the commotion and the sound of rushing water. It was a woman’s voice, the tone one of total panic.