Lights Out In Vegas (Book 4): Line of Fire

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Lights Out In Vegas (Book 4): Line of Fire Page 1

by Patten, Sean




  Line of Fire

  Sean Patten

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Also by Sean Patten

  Copyright 2019 by Sean Patten

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.

  All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  May 10, 2020; 09:00 Pacific Time

  The light outside of the car was so damn bright that, for a brief moment, I wondered if every light in Vegas had turned back and was pointed in my direction.

  I didn’t have time to question it; before I could begin to guess what was going on, the doors were open and the troops poured out of the back taking us along with them, like Kelly and I were pieces of debris caught in a flood.

  “Let’s move!” a voice boomed with the sort of volume and resonance that made you know right away it came from the mouth of someone in the service.

  Without thinking, my hand shot out towards Kelly, aiming for her hand but only catching hold of her wrist. If she had a problem with it, she didn’t say so. Or else she was, like me, totally caught up and overwhelmed by what was happening.

  I gripped her wrist hard, hard enough that I had to check myself to make sure I didn’t hurt her. But after what had happened, after Steve had been taken to God knows where just like that, I wasn’t about to let the same thing happen to her.

  The troops didn’t stick around to give us instructions. Instead, they swarmed past us, melting into the mass of other troops. Seconds later and I wasn’t able to make them out from any of the other dozens of soldiers in the area.

  I led Kelly out of the worst of the commotion and off to the side where we could take in the scene. And a scene it certainly was. Along with the dozens of troops, there were hordes of refugees—men and women and children who’d managed to escape Las Vegas and the surrounding burbs and had either been brought here by troops like me and Kelly, or they’d wandered in from the desert.

  “Where are we?” asked Kelly, raising her voice to speak over the chaotic din.

  It was a good question. The obvious answer was that it was a refugee camp and military base. Over on the other side of the base I could see a large body of water that I recognized right away as Lake Mead. And judging by the position of the sun we were on the northern side.

  “Lake Mead,” I said, relaying what’d I’d surmised. “Hoover Dam’s on the other side.”

  “Not too far from Vegas, then,” said Kelly. “Not too far from Steve.”

  It was a small relief. Granted, we hadn’t been in the truck for long enough to get too far away from the insanity of the city. But the whole thing had been so surreal that part of me had half-expected the doors to fly open and reveal the surface of the moon or something.

  “That’s what I’m hoping,” I said, even as part of me thought that being as far away from Vegas as humanly possible actually sounded pretty damn good. I’d seen more than enough of what that city had to offer.

  Once away from the crowds, I looked over the scene. It was a massive camp, as big as what you’d expect if the military were going to launch an invasion of the city. But it wasn’t complete—far from it, actually. Soldiers were still at work erecting fences, putting up tents, and constructing makeshift buildings. And without power and with thousands of refugees to deal with, it looked to be slow going.

  “You think this is safe?” asked Kelly.

  It was a good question. If you’d asked before I’d arrived where I’d want to be in the middle of a situation like this, “with the military” would’ve been the first answer out of my mouth. Well, aside from at my house in the middle of nowhere, of course.

  But now that I was there and witnessing what was going on, I began to have my doubts.

  Before I could voice them to Kelly, however, one of the soldiers approached, his eyes locked onto the two of us.

  “You two!” he called out.

  He was a man my age, a little shorter, with a square face, compact body, and an expression that sent the message he wasn’t screwing around.

  “Get in line for intake processing,” he barked.

  “I’m looking for my brother,” I said. “He came with us. Not in the same truck, but—”

  “All questions can be directed to on-site personnel after processing,” he said.

  Kelly glanced over his shoulder at the scene behind the soldier, and I could tell that she too was having doubts.

  “Is…is it safe in there?” she asked.

  “Safest you’re going to get,” he said. “If it’s not up to your standards, you can take your chances in the desert.”

  I didn’t need to look behind me to know that wasn’t an option. Not to mention I needed to see if Steve was in there.

  The soldier reached forward and clamped one hand down on my shoulder. “Processing or leave,” he said. “Make your call, and make it now.”

  I glanced over at Kelly, able to tell by the look in her eyes she was thinking the same thing as me.

  “Come on,” I said.

  She nodded. The soldier pointed to the long line of people, as if there were any doubt as to where we needed to go. Moments later we were among the rest of the refugees, just two faces among many.

  It was like the theme park ride from hell. Hundreds upon hundreds of people waited jam-packed together, the sun rising higher in the sky with every passing minute. Slowly, the line inched forward. The noises all around us—children crying, people speaking in concerned voices, troops barking out orders—made it hard to think. Sweat began to cover my body, and every now and then Kelly and I would regard each other with the same expression, one that suggested we were both wondering if we’d made the right call.

  After what seemed like forever, the two of us reached the front of the line. Guarding the gates to the camp were a handful of troops, all young and looking like they were trying their damnedest to not get overwhelmed by their assignment.

  “No computers, no phones, no nothing,” I said to Kelly over the clamor. “Kids got trained for twenty-first century warfare, but these conditions…they’re more like the Civil War.”

  Kelly only nodded in response, clearly not in the mood for conversation. I couldn’t blame her.

  As we got closer I could see better the conditions in the camp itself. Row after row of white, domed tents stretched nearly all the way to the water. Easily thousands of people were there, most of them milling around, not looking like they had a clue what to do with themselves. Further back, towards the shores of Lake Mead, were the military installations
, slightly more substantial-looking structures guarded by dozens of armed troops, all making sure there was a clear separation between the refugees and the soldiers.

  Finally, we reached the front of the line, which split off into three branches. A pair of soldiers, one a man, one a woman, both looking barely out of high school, nodded in our direction. Behind them, an older soldier, higher in rank, watched to make sure everything stayed in order.

  “Names?”

  We gave them.

  “Las Vegas residents?”

  My stomach tightened at this, wondering if the fact that neither of us were from here would make some sort of difference in the sort of treatment we’d get. But I put that out of my head, feeling that lying would score me up some bad karma.

  “No,” I said.

  The woman soldier glanced up from her papers and prepared to ask another question. But before she could get out another word, a commotion rose up above the din.

  “He’s in there somewhere,” spoke a woman to our right, panic evident in her voice. “I know it! Please, let me in!”

  I turned and watched what was going down. The woman looked frantic, so much so that the soldiers around her were tensing, preparing to do something if she were to get out of line.

  “Ma’am!” spoke one of them, his voice stern and commanding. “Step to the back of the line and wait your turn.”

  “No!” she said. “My baby boy…I sent him ahead and he’s scared and sick and I need to be with him! Let me through!”

  I didn’t like where this was going.

  Before Kelly or I had a chance to react, the woman broke from the group and rushed the soldiers.

  “Oh, shit,” I breathed.

  Before the woman could even take a step, every gun within a twenty-foot radius was pulled and pointed in her direction.

  “Down on the ground!” shouted a tall man with broad muscles, his brown hair shaved close to his scalp. “Down on the ground right now!”

  The woman, despite her panic, seemed to come to her senses and realize that she’d made a dangerous, possibly deadly mistake. Kelly grabbed my arm, a gasp sounding out from her.

  Come on, I thought, my eyes on the woman. Please don’t do anything stupid.

  The troops continued to bark orders, the woman frozen in place. Slowly, she raised her palms towards the air, relief rushing over me as she did. Once the soldiers realized that she wasn’t a threat, three of them swarmed her, pulled her to her feet, and forcibly marched her away from the checkpoint. I watched as she was taken to the back of the line where she’d wait like the rest of us.

  “They’re sure not screwing around,” said Kelly.

  She was right about that. I was just glad that the woman had done the smart thing; if she’d continued to resist, God knows what the soldiers would’ve done with her.

  Once the woman had been dealt with and order restored, the soldiers in front of us glanced back at their CO. He gave a nod, and the soldiers turned their attention back to us. One of them ripped several sheets of paper from a clipboard, sticking one sheet in a folder among other folders and giving the other two sheets to us after stamping them.

  “These are your processing papers,” said the male soldier. “You take these, and you report to the main processing station. There you’ll be put into the system and given your tent assignment and positions in the camp.”

  “Positions?” Kelly repeated.

  “Everyone pulls their weight around here,” said the female soldier, unsmiling.

  The male soldier moved aside, letting us pass.

  “Welcome to Camp Esperanza.”

  Chapter 2

  No matter how much of a mess the camp looked from the outside, it was nothing compared to the scene past the gates.

  The smell was the first thing I noticed—sweat and dirty clothes and stale water, all cooked under the heat of the near-midday sun. Squalid conditions, and no AC or sprinkler systems to take the edge off. Just thousands of scared people packed together.

  A billboard near the water was in the process of being painted over, the ad below covered in white as a group of soldiers used stencils and spray paint to write the words “Camp Esperanza” in big, black letters.

  A few water trucks off in the distance, the words “potable water” emblazoned on the sides, were the one sign of relief. My throat was parched, but I could only imagine the scene around the trucks—likely total insanity.

  “Processing,” said Kelly, her eyes on her paper. “I guess that’s the next step.”

  I didn’t like the sound of it. Sure, it seemed like pretty standard practice, and having all these people here running around with no ID and no information would’ve been a bad idea. But something about it all just didn’t sit right with me. And seeing those soldiers point their guns at that scared mom didn’t help matters. The image was still fresh and clear in my mind.

  “Is this a good idea, Justin?” asked Kelly.

  Truth be told, I didn’t have an answer for her. But I knew she was scared and that at least one of us needed to look like we had a handle on the situation. Kelly had been through enough that I was fine with taking the burden off her shoulders.

  “It’s the best option we’ve got right now,” I said. “And there’s a good chance that Steve’s here somewhere, or that he’s on his way. He was with the same troops that brought us here, right?”

  She nodded, seeing the sense in my words.

  “At the very least we can get some water and food and maybe some rest,” I continued. “Trying to come across any of those things out there in the city sounds like a bad idea.”

  She nodded one more time, this one more affirmative. “Okay,” she said. “Then let’s find this processing place, or whatever it is.”

  We formed up at each other’s side and were off.

  “Stay close,” I said. “Last thing we need is to get separated.”

  “Agreed,” she said. “I’m still having a hard time with not being able to just text you if I got lost. We’d have to find each other the old-fashioned way.”

  “Right,” I said. “Something happens, we meet at the camp sign. Got it? Just go there and wait.”

  “Works for me.”

  Troops were posted here and there, all armed with their service rifles, their eyes hidden behind wraparound sunglasses. They were an intimidating presence, but I was glad they were there—they were likely the only thing keeping the camp from breaking into total chaos.

  One of them, apparently catching sight of the papers in mine and Kelly’s hands, raised his arm and pointed towards the military side of the base.

  “Processing station is down that way,” he said. “Big building near the shore. You’ll know it by the line.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “Another line,” Kelly muttered. “Out in the sun.”

  “Maybe we’ll see Steve there,” I said, trying to find at least one bright spot.

  We continued on, taking in the sight of dozens of huddled, dirty people, some inside their tents with the flaps open. I wondered how much better that was. Sure, it was out of the sun, but the air was still and stagnant in the tents, and possibly even hotter.

  Before too long, we spotted where we were supposed to go.

  “Jesus,” said Kelly.

  I stopped in my tracks, seeing what she was referring to.

  “Holy shit.”

  The line was insane, more orderly than the one out front but much, much longer. It snaked around the processing center and back into the main camp area. Soldiers were posted at ten-foot intervals, their weapons at the ready. I scanned as much of the line as I could, eyes peeled for any sign of Steve. No dice.

  “Come on, bro,” I muttered. “Where the hell are you?”

  Kelly, either hearing me or sensing my distress or both, grabbed my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. I was more than a little surprised to realize that it really helped.

  She was good like that. Always had been.

/>   “Come on,” I said. “Nothing to do but hurry up and wait.”

  After a little walking we soon found the tail end of the line and got into it. The smell was still just as awful as it had been, but I found myself getting more used to it by the minute. Hell, not long before I’d be smelling the same way.

  The line inched forward bit by bit—faster than I’d have expected. Both Kelly and I kept our papers held close and tight, knowing without needing to be told that losing them would be bad news.

  After maybe a half an hour or so, I heard the grumble of what sounded like a small engine. I craned my neck to see two small ATVs that looked to have been refitted to carry supplies. The back racks were loaded down with looked to be bottles of water and boxes of food. Two soldiers were on the sides of each one.

  A little behind them a tall, built male soldier with blond hair spoke into a megaphone. I couldn’t make out what he was saying at first, but his words became clearer the closer he got.

  “…Soldiers are coming by with food and water. Take only what is given to you! No asking for more; no sob story will result in more of either. Once in the station you will be processed and assigned a role. If you are having a medical emergency, inform the nearest soldier and you will be taken to the med station. More supplies will be provided in the processing station.”

  He continued down the line, repeating this information with minimal variations on the words. And the vehicles followed behind him, the soldiers passing out a small package of food and a bottle of water to everyone in the line. My lips smacked and my stomach growled at the idea of something to eat and drink.

  Along with everyone else in the line, I watched the soldiers with eager eyes until finally they reached me and Kelly. The soldiers quickly handed us our goods and were off.

  I looked down to see that, along with the bottle of water, we’d been handed a small package of mixed fruit and nuts. Barely more than a handful, but it sure was better than nothing. I quickly threw back the food and washed them down with a hard swig of water, the relief sudden.

 

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