“I was in Las Vegas. Had a pretty sweet set-up in one of the hotels there with a small group of survivors,” he answered, his voice trailing off.
“What happened?”
“The guy running it, this asshole major, kicked me out,” he said.
Benton waited for him to continue.
“I … was hungry … so I went to grab a midnight snack and apparently that’s against the rules. This major had a lot of rules. Jesus, all I wanted was a little something to eat,” he finished.
It took a second for Benton to catch on but the second mention of a major peaked his interest. He turned his head and asked Gunner to grab a bottle of water from the back of the car. He did and handed it to Benton.
Benton handed it through the window to George.
“You must be thirsty,” he said as George grabbed the bottle and opened it, taking a big swig and then another.
“Yes, thank you,” he answered.
Benton allowed him to finish most of the bottle before continuing.
“This major, do you remember his name?” Benton asked.
“Um … yea … Major Bradley. Yes, that’s it. It was him and a few soldiers. And maybe thirty others. They did seem pretty organized. Why?”
Again, Benton ignored his question. He was doing the asking at the moment.
“Which hotel?” he pressed.
“The big one on the corner, with the lion out front,” he answered.
“The MGM Grand?”
George nodded. He was getting tired of this conversation.
Benton noticed this and decided to reciprocate. He still had one more question.
“I may know these people you were with, in Vegas. We became separated a while back and I am eager to find them. One last question if I may, do you remember a doctor being there, the name of Sanderson?”
Sensing he may be of some use to these men; men with a nice car and water, he continued on.
“I was there for a couple of weeks … I can show you exactly where they were … I know their routines,” he offered.
“The doctor, was he there Mr. Banks?”
“I met him only once, saw him around a few other times. It seemed like he was rarely there,” George answered reluctantly.
Benton nodded. He was considering what to do with this Mr. Banks. He now knew where his doctor was, at least where he was maybe a month ago. He had spent much time in Las Vegas over the years and was intimately familiar with Sin City. It was a fun city for just about anyone. It was even more fun for someone with his resources. He concluded that this guy would likely be more hindrance than an asset. The men in this car were more than capable of surveilling the MGM Grand and coming up with a plan to extract the doctor. Mr. Banks would likely be able to add very little.
Benton did not like loose ends but decided that there was no way for Banks to get to Vegas before them and even if he did, they had kicked him out once already and it sounded as if he wouldn’t be welcome anyway. Plus, he had no idea who anyone in the car was. Finally, he decided that saving the ammunition was more valuable than silencing this possible loose end.
“I appreciate the information Mr. Banks,” Benton said as he reached in the back seat and took another bottle of water from Gunner. He handed it to Banks.
“You take care of yourself … and stay out of the road,” Benton said, concluding the conversation.
“But I could help you … take me with you,” George pleaded, but to no avail as the window rose slowly up.
Bronson put the Land Rover in drive and pressed down on the accelerator. The car kicked up some of the dust and debris left by the recent wind storm, pelting George Banks as he was left standing in the middle of the road.
Benton turned slightly to face the windshield as the subtlest of smiles creased his face.
Chapter 20
Wedding Crashers
Their change of plans had them heading northeast on route 15 instead of southeast on route 40. It also allowed them to avoid the sandstorm. They had made fairly good time but had been slowed down when they hit twenty miles outside of Vegas. The mass exodus during the initial days of the outbreak created severe traffic snarls and accidents. People even crossed over onto the eastbound lane trying to get to wherever they were going. The abandoned cars created a maze that Bronson was forced to navigate.
It was still a shorter drive than their initial destination of Lake Havasu so they had arrived at the outskirts of Vegas before nightfall. Benton decided on a westerly approach. He instructed Bronson to get off the Tropicana Ave exit and then move onto the New York New York Casino property. They could enter from behind and then park the car and walk either around or through the casino and have an excellent view of the MGM Grand’s main entrance.
They should easily remain out of sight from anyone patrolling the MGM Grand entrance. The ongoing unknown was, of course, the infected. Benton had been giving their plan some serious thought as they rolled down route 40. He assumed that Major Bradley and his group had likely spent the winter there. He allowed himself a little congratulatory smirk as his original diagnosis of the situation was ultimately correct. Bradley had indeed headed south and had also locked onto a large city with a multitude of suitable medical facilities.
It was very probable that the major would have initially secured the property; both from infected and from humans. He would have then sent men, and probably women, sexism be damned, to clear the immediate area surrounding the MGM Grand. Then, as time allowed, moving further away dispatching infected and gathering supplies. He would also, from time to time, likely send small groups to recheck the areas around the casino, just to be safe.
He decided that the New York, New York Casino would, given its proximity to the MGM Grand, be free of infected. It would make the most sense to make their way through the casino and upstairs to the exit leading to the walkway crossing Las Vegas Boulevard. They could conceal themselves inside and observe the patrols. If needed, they could easily move undetected on the crosswalk to get a better view. It seemed to make sense to do a little reconnaissance before stumbling into a situation they were not prepared for.
It would be dark soon and although a night attack had its advantages, it had been a long day and he wanted his men rested before undertaking an operation of this importance and difficulty. He figured twenty-four hours of observation, at least, was required. The only thing that would change that thinking would be if they were discovered or if the Doctor presented himself as an easy target.
They parked the Land Rover out of sight in the back lot so it could not be seen from the road. It was likely a new vehicle would stick out like a sore thumb. Only a thorough examination of the lot would reveal their car. Gunner grabbed a bag filled with food and water, Mikael grabbed a satchel filled with extra ammunition. Bronson filled the gas tank with what was left of their fuel; Just in case things don’t go as planned.
They jimmied open a service entrance and slowly made their way through the bowels of the enormous hotel. Mikael opened the ammunition bag and pulled out a flashlight and shone it into the darkness. It was unbelievably quiet. The kind of quiet that you swear you can actually hear other people’s thoughts. They moved through a few corridors and bypassed some security that, without electricity, were easy to disable. Eventually, they passed what was, or technically still is, the counting room. A year ago, this would have been the most heavily guarded and controlled area of the casino. Now, they could have walked in and stuffed their pockets with as much cash as they could carry.
They came to the end of the hallway and went up a flight of stairs and then down another corridor, passing some offices along the way. They hadn’t encountered any infected or, for that matter, even heard a sound other than their own footfalls. It was eerie.
Mikael raised his hand as the rest of them stopped. He had come to end of the hallway with nowhere else to go but through the door in front of them. It was a solid door with a small rectangular window about eye level. He stepped forward and brough
t the flashlight up to the glass. Moving it back and forth he could make out some slot machines and tacky carpeting.
“I kasinot,” he said to Gunner in their native Swedish.
“The casino,” he translated for the others.
There didn’t appear to be any movement on the floor. He opened the door and they moved onto the casino floor. They took a few steps and then weaved through banks of one-armed bandits, except no one actually pulled the levers anymore, they just pushed a button.
Off to the right Gunner heard a noise. I sounded like it was coming from the cashier’s cage. He approached from the right, using the machines as cover. Everyone else stayed a pace or two behind. He came around the tens barrier and stopped. He allowed himself a second to take in the scene before him and actually chuckled.
A man had wedged himself between the metal bars of the cage and the small opening where cash money was exchanged for casino chips. His legs kicking and arms flailing. He had, Gunner surmised, tried to get into the cage to presumably steal any money that may have been there and got himself stuck. Not unlike Winnie the Pooh and his ill-advised grab for the honeypot.
The groans emanating from the man indicated he had likely turned. As Gunner got within a few feet, his assumptions were confirmed. The man didn’t seem to have any wounds. He hadn’t been bitten or suffered any apparent injuries. He must have just gotten stuck and couldn’t get himself unstuck and when no one came by to rescue him, he died from starvation.
Gunner looked back to see the others standing just past the last bank of slot machines, smirking. Benton simply nodded.
Gunner removed his knife and carefully approached the infected who now realized there was fresh meat nearby and became even more agitated. He raised the knife but the space between the bars was too narrow so he couldn’t get his hand through in order to drive the knife into the infected’s skull. He tried a couple of different angles but had no luck. They were going to have to pull him out or shoot him in the head. Gunner reached for his sidearm and showed both to Benton who immediately understood the dilemma.
He hated wasting bullets but things could get messy if they tried pulling that zombie out his hole. He turned to Mikael.
“Silencer,” he said.
Mikael reached into the bag and pulled out the requested item and tossed it to Gunner who attached it to the end of his weapon. Putting the nozzle between the bars he aimed and squeezed off one round. The muffled discharge still echoed slightly but would never be heard outside the casino walls. The infected’s head slumped, crashing onto the counter, and his legs and arms stopped thrashing about. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about him during the night.
Gunner removed the silencer and tossed it back to Mikael and replaced his knife and sidearm. They continued their trek towards the front of the casino. They passed a restaurant and a piano bar then a small gift shop. Benton stopped.
“Hold up,” he said. They stopped.
Benton went in and grabbed some extra batteries for the flashlight, a pack of gum, and a nice light blue polo shirt with the New York, New York logo emblazoned in the upper left corner. He removed his current long sleeve knit shirt and replaced it with the polo, tucking it neatly into his pants. He unwrapped the gum and removed two pieces, always two pieces, and put them in his mouth. It was a bit stale but it would do. He looked up and extended his arm with the gum.
“Anyone?” He asked. There were no takers.
Benton nodded and waved his arms forward as an indication it was time for them to begin moving again.
Benton moved over to Mikael and dumped the batteries into the satchel as they came to the bottom of an escalator that was, of course, not moving, so it was no better than stairs. They moved up the top level where there were a couple more gift shops and a walk-up bar. There also was a set of doors leading to the walkway that crossed Las Vegas Boulevard, leading to the MGM Grand, and one that crossed Tropicana Avenue, leading to the Excalibur Hotel and Casino.
This would be their base of operations for the next twenty-four hours or so. It was dark now. They would have to spend the night in complete darkness. A flashlight would be easy to spot, even from across the street. It would also be easier to see what was going on over at the MGM Grand. They set up a watch schedule for the evening, Benton excluded of course. They could see a little through the windows but would need to venture out onto the walkway to get a better view.
They would monitor any patrol activities and keep a sharp eye out for Dr. Sanderson. They would be able to see more during the day so tonight would be more about catching up on some much-needed rest.
Gunner took first watch as the rest settled in front of the gift shop, dropping the bag of food and the satchel of ammunition. Mikael went in and grabbed some souvenir pillows and returned, throwing them on the ground. Benton went behind the bar and searched for some Cognac but found the bar to be mostly empty. There was a bottle of Jameson’s that had rolled under the bar so he grabbed that and a couple of glasses. It occurred to him that it was easier to get batteries out of a gift shop than a bottle of booze out of a bar during this apocalypse. He’s not exactly sure what that said about humanity but it probably wasn’t good.
Gunner looked over the railing next to the escalator, scanning the casino floor below. He saw nothing and heard even less. He turned and grabbed a pair of binoculars out of the munitions bag. He then approached the large gold doors leading outside as the others opened the bag of food and grabbed something for dinner. Benton opened the bottle of Jameson’s and poured himself a generous portion into the glass. Gunner decided he would eat later, after his shift. He hesitated a moment, then pushed the door open.
Benton awoke with a sore neck and a slight hangover. Irish whiskey was not his usual drink of choice and he was now paying for it. He glanced over at the empty bottle and grimaced. Thankfully he didn’t drink the entire bottle, he shared with Bronson. Mikael politely declined, the Swede was always on duty.
A low sun was shining through the casino’s doors, Bronson staring out into the morning sky with the binoculars. Mikael was sleeping soundly next to him as Gunner stood near the escalator, peering down into the casino. He turned as he heard his boss moving on the floor. He sauntered over to him and squatted down so Benton didn’t have to stand up quite yet. He spoke in hushed tones so as to not disturb his sleeping partner and in deference to a possible headache his employer may have.
“Quiet night,” he offered without being asked.
Benton nodded, trying to get his wits about him. He may have to go back down to the gift shop and pick up some Advil.
“Mikael reported two patrols, in groups of three,” he continued. “They didn’t leave the property but did circle the entire building. Mikael said it took them about twenty-five minutes … no sign of the doctor or the major.”
Benton sat a little more upright against the wall next to the souvenir shop. Glancing down at his shirt he had a quizzical look on his face until he realized it was the shirt he procured from the gift shop downstairs.
“How is our vantage point from here?” He asked.
“Unfortunately, the walkway obscures the main entrance but as soon as anyone leaves the building and turns left or right, we can follow them easily.”
“Are we too exposed on the walkway?” Benton asked.
Gunner gave that some thought.
“As long as we stay low and don’t venture out too far, we should be fine. But there is no guarantee,” Gunner answered.
“How about the Excalibur or Tropicana, would they give us a better view of the front door?”
“The Excalibur is a little farther away but might offer a better vantage point. The Tropicana definitely would but getting there would be problematic. We would be exposed for a much longer period of time.”
Benton was considering his options but was mostly thinking about that Advil.
“We’ve got a vehicle!” Bronson shouted without turning around, binoculars still affixed to his eyeballs.
Benton snapped out of his malaise and quickly stood up. Mikael rolled over and sat upright, his hair mussed and eyed filled with sleep. Gunner and Benton moved over next to Bronson while Mikael searched the floor for his semi-automatic rifle.
“It pulled out from behind the Grand and took a left onto Tropicana,” Bronson reported as Gunner and Benton arrived on either side of him.
“Occupants?” Gunner asked before Benton could.
“Two males I think, couldn’t get a good look at them,” he answered.
Benton was aware that Bronson had never seen Dr. Sanderson or Major Bradley. He needed to look through those binoculars. He grabbed them from Bronson without asking, a move that would have likely ended in severe physical harm for anyone else, but Bronson just stood there.
Looking through the lenses it took a second to locate then focus on the car moving away from them down Tropicana Avenue. It appeared to be a dark blue Ford. The distance made it difficult to identify the occupants. He tried refocusing as the car drifted farther away. The binoculars were not the most powerful he owned but were small and easily portable. He was now wishing he had brought a bigger pair.
Suddenly the car took a left and was out of sight. It was his best opportunity to identify the driver but they passed by a street sign and blocked his view.
“Shit!” he exclaimed as he lowered the binoculars slapping them against his thigh. He remained motionless for a second then raised the binoculars back up and handed them back to Bronson, who returned to his earlier position.
Benton turned and slowly walked away from the doors. He rubbed his chin and cracked his neck. It may have been the booze clouding his vision but he thought he saw the doctor driving the Ford.
They retraced their steps through the casino and found a side door that led outside. Hugging the side of the building, they made their way to the rear of the resort and returned to the Land Rover.
Benton decided they had to find a better vantage point to wait for the Ford to return. They also needed to keep an eye on the main entrance. Despite the Ford and its passengers slipping out the back, it didn’t make sense for the major to tolerate more than one entrance. It was much easier to control the flow of people not to mention easier to guard.
The Zombie Principle II Page 19