by Patten, Sean
He gave me a smile that let me know he wasn’t being serious. I took the gun, the weapon feeling good in my hands.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Don’t mention it.”
With that, the three of us headed out.
We retraced our steps back to the Strip, and after a short time were back on the desolate, empty road. Without the troops accompanying us, the sight was even more eerie than it had been when we’d arrived. We stuck to the side roads, keeping quiet and making our way along the road.
“So fucking weird,” said Steve, finally breaking the silence. “Why would the Strip be totally empty like this?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe after the riots on the first night people got the hint that it wasn’t the best place to be.”
“Creepy,” said Kelly.
We passed the ruined fronts of casinos, the glass windows smashed and the fountains filled with debris.
“Shit,” said Steve, pointing ahead. “There it is.”
At first I wasn’t sure what he was gesturing to. But when I saw the massive, dead sign for the Medley, I got it.
“Can you believe that just over a week ago we were staying in that place?” Steve said.
“Right,” said Kelly. “I’ve got a feeling that world’s gone for good.”
I didn’t even want to look at the Medley, the feelings were so intense. We continued on, and eventually Steve stopped again.
“What is it?” I asked.
“You see that car over there?”
“Which one?” asked Kelly. “The burnt-out one or the other burnt-out one?”
“The slightly less burnt-out one,” said Steve. “The grayish one.”
“Why?” I asked. “Looks ruined.”
“You remember my first car in high school?” he asked. “The ’92 Olds with the really loud muffler?”
“You mean the one you could hear coming from down the damn block?”
“That’s the one,” he said. “And I fixed that muffler, too—knew her inside and out. And I bet if that one’s got any life left in her…”
He didn’t wait for me or Kelly to say anything else. Steve broke out into a trot, eventually reaching the car and putting his hand through the broken window and opening the driver’s-side door.
“You think he’ll get it to work?” asked Kelly.
“Maybe,” I said. “It’s worth a shot.”
Kelly and I took the chance to get off our feet while Steve worked. The two of us dropped down onto a bench and observed as Steve popped the hood and stuck his hands into the guts of the car. I had my doubts—if that thing worked, surely someone would’ve got it up and running and be long gone by now. At the same time, though, I figured there was no harm in letting Steve take a few minutes to check it out.
Right at the moment I was getting comfortable, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye.
“Look!” said Kelly.
I was way ahead of her. Further down the road, maybe a fifth of a mile, I saw the armored carrier that the other team had been in cross the width of the Strip and drive into a parking lot across the street.
“Steve!” I said. “No time for that! Come on!”
Steve lifted his head up and turned towards the rumble of the engine, his eyes going wide.
“Shit!” he said, closing the hood. “That’s them!”
Seconds later the three of us were up and on the move. We moved quickly, cutting down the distance between us and where we’d seen the carrier go. Before too long we were at the edge of a restaurant parking lot, the carrier parked and a single Humvee next to it.
“That the HQ?” I asked.
“Maybe it was,” said Steve. “But it looks like they’ve cleared out now.”
“But that’s Mason’s car, right?” asked Kelly.
“Yeah,” said Steve. “And I’d bet you anything that Humvee belongs to Donahue. Let’s go!”
We cut across the parking lot, taking cover whenever we could in the event that someone spotted us. Sure, we had our excuse of wanting to link back up with the troops, but who could tell if Mason would buy that this was the only reason we were there.
Eventually we arrived at the side of the restaurant, on the far end from where we’d approached. The three of us took cover under one of the hedges under the window. When I felt ready, I peeked up to see that the place was full of troops—all from Mason’s squad.
At one of the booths was Mason. Across from him was Donahue.
And he didn’t look happy.
Chapter 21
I couldn’t hear a word the men were saying, but I could tell by their body language that, whatever they were talking about, the conversation was tense.
“Steve,” I said. “What was the situation with that car?”
“What?” he asked. “Why?”
“Because if things go south, and I think they might, we’re going to need a way out of here as fast as fucking possible.”
He appeared to consider it.
“It didn’t look good,” he said after a moment. “But there are a couple more things I could try.”
“You think you could take one more look at it?” I asked.
“Sure thing,” he said, then poked his head up over the shrub and came right back down. “I don’t like this. Not a damn bit.”
“You and me both,” I said. “But I’ll keep an eye on it.”
Steve nodded.
“If things go south, don’t stick around. Please.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sure.”
Still crouched, Steve hurried away from the building and then down the road back towards the car.
“I can’t hear a thing,” Kelly said lowly. “Just sounds like they’re arguing.”
A grunt of frustration escaping me, I checked out the window, noting that it was unlocked and could probably be pushed up from the outside. But that might draw attention. A little further down the side of the building I spotted a steel trash can just near the corner.
“Kel,” I said. “I need you to knock that thing over.”
“Are you serious?” she hissed. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to push up the window. Get over there and do it on three.”
“Sure,” she said. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
Kelly moved along the bush and positioned herself near the trash can. I held up one finger, then two, then…three.
She shoved the thing over, a loud metallic clatter sounding out. And the second it did, I push the window up a few inches, just enough that I could hear inside the restaurant.
“The hell was that?” one of the soldiers asked.
A few of them looked up and around.
“Should we go check that out, General?” asked one.
“‘General,’” hissed Donahue. “Absurd of you to call yourself that, Mason. After what you pulled.”
It was Donahue, all right. The same tall, silver-haired general we’d met just after our final confrontation with Oleg. His eyes were steely, his gaze unwavering as he stared at Mason from across the table.
“And where’s the real general?” Donahue asked. “The man who’s actually in charge of Esperanza?”
“Lambert couldn’t command his way out of a damn paper bag,” growled Mason. “Every day that passed with him in charge put the lives of the men, and every civilian at that camp in danger!”
He pointed accusingly at Donahue as he spoke, his face turning blood red.
A small sense of relief settled over me as I realized that the soldiers’ attention was back on the argument, and they seemed to have completely forgotten about the noise I’d made only seconds before.
“That wasn’t your call to make,” said Donahue, his voice tinged with anger even as it remained low and even. “You violated your duty as a soldier. As far as I’m concerned, you’re nothing more than a traitor.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Mason shot back. “Look at you—you’re out here doing what, exactly? Sitt
ing in your tent with your thumb up your ass watching thousands upon thousands of people march in my direction?”
“You’re out of line, Lieutenant,” Donahue snapped. “You have no idea what me or my men have been through over these last few days. We’ve lost good people, and I’m not going to sit here while you insult their memory.”
Mason paused, his eyes narrowing. I could sense that he realized that he was about to step over a line, cross a point of no return.
“Now,” said Donahue. “Answer my question. Where is General Lambert?”
“They don’t know where the general is?” Kelly hissed. “Wouldn’t he have come straight here?”
“You’d think so,” I said, my eyes still fixed on the scene.
“Hell if I know,” Mason said. “I gave him some supplies and dropped him off at the edge of town. Figured he’d be here with you by now.”
“So you could’ve sent him to his death,” said Donahue. “Man’s been in the service for forty years and you left him with a bag of MREs in the middle of the fucking desert. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
“General Donahue,” said Mason. “What’s done is done. Lambert is out, and I’m in. I didn’t come here to ask for your opinion on whether or not I did the right thing—because I know I did. I’m here to work with you.”
Donahue scoffed. “And what makes you think I’d want to work with a man like you? We could, I don’t know, team up until you decide that I’m not running things to your liking, then you can frog-march me out of here with a gun to the back of my head?”
“Because whether or not you agree with my methods,” Mason said, “my concern is the wellbeing of the refugees. Now, you can sit there and tell me all about what a bad boy I’ve been, or you can work with me on saving some lives.”
Donahue said nothing, and I felt my heart thud faster as I waited for his response.
An interminable few seconds later, it came.
“Mason,” he said. “And I’m not calling you ‘general,’ or any other damn rank you pick for yourself. As far as I’m concerned, you’re nothing better than a common thug.”
Donahue looked up at one of the troops on his side of the table.
“Major Ellis,” he said. “Take the lieutenant here into custody. Throw his ass in the brig, and I’ll see about putting together a tribunal to make sure justice is done. For now, I’m fine with letting the bastard cool his heels for a little while, think about what a mistake he’s made.”
“Yes, sir,” said Ellis.
The tall, well-built soldier took one step towards Mason. But one step was all. Mason raised a gun and pointed it directly at Ellis, who froze where he stood.
“Major,” said Mason. “Delay that order.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Donahue spat.
“It’s a real shame, General,” Mason said, his gun pointed at Ellis, his eyes on Donahue. “I was hoping you’d be reasonable, that we’d be able to come to some kind of understanding. After all, you and I have the same goals—to make sure order is kept, and that the life of every single last American citizen is looked out for. That’s our duty, remember?”
“Mason,” repeated Donahue. “Put that gun down, now.”
“This is your last chance, General. Tell your man to stand down. It’s not too late—my offer still stands. Tell the major and the rest of your men to drop their weapons.”
Silence hung in the air. The two men watched each other, neither moving a muscle. I felt Kelly’s hand slip into my own and squeeze it hard.
“Major,” said Donahue, his voice as cool and calm as ever. “Take him into custody.”
This time Ellis didn’t even make it a step.
Mason raised the gun and fired twice. A look of surprise flashed across the major’s face before he slumped to the ground, two gaping bullet wounds in his chest.
“Now!” shouted Mason. “Open fire!”
At Mason’s command the troops on his side of the table raised their rifles and fired. Cracks and pops filled the restaurant, most troops hit and on the ground before they’d even had a chance to reach for their weapons.
And then it was over, the smell of gunpowder thick in the air.
“Mason…” said Donahue, horror in his voice. “What…what the hell have you done?”
But Mason only shook his head.
“You could’ve been reasonable,” he said. “But you had to be just as stupid and stubborn as the old man.”
Mason raised his pistol and aimed.
“No!” Donahue said. “Don’t—”
He didn’t finish. One final pop cut through the air, a brief mist of red appearing behind the general’s head as his neck snapped back. Then his head fell forward as his body slouched lifelessly over the table.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
“He…he killed him,” said Kelly, terror evident in her voice.
As much as I felt like crumpling to the ground, I knew we didn’t have a second to waste.
“Kelly,” I said. “We need to run. Now!”
Chapter 22
The two of us ran hard and fast, first sneaking away from the restaurant and making sure that no one spotted us, and then tearing across the parking lot in the direction of where Steve had gone.
I couldn’t believe it. Mason had ordered the killing of Donahue and his fellow soldiers, executing them in cold blood.
It wasn’t long before we spotted Steve, who looked up from the engine of the car and turned his attention to us as we approached.
“Car’s not ready, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said. “Gonna take some time to see if I can even start fixing it.”
“There’s no time for that,” I said. “We need to move.”
Off in the distance I heard the roar of an engine and the squeal of tires. I turned to see the armored carrier screech out of the parking lot and head in the direction by which it’d entered the city.
“What the hell?” asked Steve. “They’re…they’re going back to the camp?”
“They’re leaving us behind,” Kelly breathed.
“What the hell happened in there?” asked Steve. “What did you see?”
“Mason,” I said. “Mason and his men killed Donahue and his in cold blood.”
“What?” asked Steve. “What are you talking about?”
“Just what I said. Your ‘general’ killed fellow soldiers.”
“This is some kind of sick joke, right?” Steve asked. “Because it’s not funny, at all.”
“Not a joke, Steve,” said Kelly. “Mason…he’s a murderer. A monster.”
“No,” said Steve. “That can’t be what happened. There’s no way he would do something like that.”
“Steve,” said Kelly. “We were there. We saw it.”
But Steve was undeterred.
“There has to be some kind of explanation,” he said. “Some intel that we don’t know about. Donahue must’ve been…I don’t know, doing something that would justify that.”
“You’re in denial,” I said. “We backed the wrong man. It’s as simple as that.”
“It can’t be,” he said. “I…I spent time with Mason. I know he’s a good man. He just wanted to do right by the refugees. There’s no way he’d kill soldiers without a damned good reason.”
I wasn’t sure if my brother was brainwashed, or just in some serious denial. But it didn’t matter. The sound of gunshots ringing off in the distance was a stark reminder that we didn’t have the luxury of standing around and debating the issue. And not only that, but the day had gotten away from us. The sun was dipping low in the sky, and night would fall within an hour, give or take. Vegas was quiet now, but I had a feeling that would only last as long as the sun was in the sky.
“Let’s get the hell out of here and figure it out when we’re safe,” I said. “Okay?”
Steve, still looking shaken up, nodded in agreement.
“Fine,” he said. “Fine.”
“Good,” said Kelly, soundin
g relieved. “But where are we going to go?”
“Somewhere off the Strip,” I said. “Something tells me we’re not going to want to be anywhere near here come nighttime.”
“Agreed,” she said. She pointed off in the distance, towards a road that led to a gated community. “I doubt those gates mean much now, but maybe we can at least find some place to hide out for a little while.”
“Let’s do it.”
Together the three of us started in the direction of the gated community. We walked in silence for a time, but at about the halfway point, Kelly spoke up.
“I don’t know what you two are planning,” she said. “But I hope that it doesn’t involve going back to that hellhole.”
Steve didn’t hesitate before answering.
“We’re going back,” he said. “We have to.”
“What?” asked Kelly. “You want to go back there? With that psycho?”
“You don’t know that he’s a psycho,” he said. “You saw something out of context.”
“Oh my God,” said Kelly. “Steve, he murdered people right in front of us. What kind of context would make that okay?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But I at least have to give him the chance to explain himself. I’ve been with Mason since the beginning, and I put everything on the line to help him take charge. I…I can’t cut and run now, not without at least hearing what he has to say for himself.”
“What about them leaving?” asked Kelly. “Your bud Mason left not just us, but the rest of the troops behind in the city to what, try to figure it out on our own?”
“If things got hot in there like you said I don’t blame him for leaving,” said Steve. “Donahue’s men might’ve been on their way.”
“Isn’t ‘no man left behind’ a thing you with you guys?” Kelly asked. “I didn’t realize that involved flying out of danger and leaving your own guys in your dust.”
“It’s not like that!” said Steve. “And it’s not just about Mason. I’m a soldier—it’s our duty to protect the lives of American citizens. We…we have a duty to the greater good, you know? We’re not just mindless weapons; we’re protectors of the people.”