by Jeff Olah
Goodwin finally took the time to turn away from the window and face him. “Your injuries, have they healed?”
“I’m fine,” Dalton said. “Just a few bumps and bruises.”
“Good, take a seat. I’m going to keep this short. We’ve already used up too much time in preparation, but I think we’re ready. Do you have any thoughts?”
“Blackmore, sir?”
“Yes,” Goodwin said, “Blackmore. Is there anything we’re missing? Anything we should have done or anything we still need to do?”
Dalton knew what he was asking, and why he was asking, but he figured he’d stick to the plan and give Goodwin only what he needed to know and what he wanted to hear. Anything more would prolong their meeting and send the conversation in a direction that Dalton had no intention of heading.
“No sir, everything is ready to go. The drone is on low power mode and standing by. I have powered down all other parts of the building, including Anton’s quarters and the kitchen, which I have set to only come up for a few hours a day.”
“So,” Goodwin said, “the only thing we’re waiting on is Anton to return with the others?”
“Yes, once he’s on his way, I can start the procedures for powering off everything from this level down. We can launch the drone at any time, even from right here if needed.”
“And Nicholas, is he… recovered?”
Dalton had hoped to avoid this. The one thing he wasn’t prepared to discuss. The Achilles’ heel that could derail the entire conversation. Stick with the plan, he told himself. Just give him what he needs and nothing more.
“Nicholas will be fine, Mr. Goodwin. He’s well rested and knows the specifics of the trip to Blackmore.”
“Yes, but I need his head right. I know how close he was with Walter, the man was almost like a father to him. I just want to be sure he understands that what happened in Las Vegas needed to happen for the rest of us to survive. That Walter saved us.”
Again speaking only to himself, Dalton’s screams echoed against the inside of his head. “What a load of crap!” But remaining composed, he simply nodded, looked toward the doors, and gave Goodwin what he needed. “I haven’t spoken to him today, but I think he’s okay.”
“And,” Goodwin said, “What about you? Are you all in? Are you going to be ready to do what needs to be done at Blackmore, or are you still that scared little boy we had to pull off the runway in Colorado?”
It had arrived, not exactly in the manner he’d expected, but nonetheless it was here. Goodwin wanted to somehow make this more about what had already happened and less about what was going to happen. He wanted assurance that Dalton could respond in the same manner as the thugs he employed, even though that was the exact opposite of what he needed. Dalton could accomplish more with the device that was under his left arm than a hundred men armed to the teeth could in a million years, but that’s not what Goodwin wanted him to say. So he didn’t.
“I’ve learned my lesson,” Dalton said. “You and the others are going to be shocked.”
Goodwin glared at him for a moment, and then apparently satisfied with his answer, turned back to the window. “Okay, once we get word that Anton and the others are in place, you’ll need to be ready to move.”
“Mr. Goodwin, I’m ready now.”
48
Ethan Runner had used the previous three days to do nothing but eat, sleep, and check every last inch of the resort they’d come to call their temporary home. He and the others secured what they could, and barricaded what they couldn’t. The non-stop work had proved to be worth it, as they now owned three floors, and half of the eighty-thousand square foot casino.
Ethan was no longer tired. His head and lower back had stopped aching. The dark circles under his eyes had disappeared. And thanks to Shannon, he’d eaten more in the last seventy-two hours than he once thought was possible.
Now alone in a suite on the eleventh floor, Ethan sat at a round table near a window that faced west. He’d just reread Emma’s last message for the hundredth time and again typed back one of his own. He didn’t know exactly when he’d received her text or when he’d lost the signal. Either way, her last communication still rang in his ears as he prepared to do the only thing he could.
Ethan, I’m still in the city. Don’t know for how long. Please hurry!
Back to the window, he scanned the south side of town, focusing in on the area just outside the airport. It was less than five miles away, but much different from where he and his friends had decided to pull off the road. For whatever reason, it appeared that every Feeder in the state had congregated in that exact spot. His plan for getting his friends out of the city and on their way to the coast would have to wait. There wasn’t a single chance he’d make it through that area with six other people.
A new plan, a different route, another path. How long would it take to figure it all out? Would there be any less of a challenge if he were to backtrack and follow another highway out to California? He didn’t know. He also didn’t think he had the tools, nor the time, to find out. But one thing was for sure, his sister certainly didn’t have the time.
Standing and moving to the door, Ethan folded the handwritten note he’d spent the last hour writing and slipped it into his back pocket. Stepping out into the hall, he walked slowly toward the stairwell, pausing briefly to take one last look around.
The trip down the stairs was much less gruesome than the trip up. He’d chosen the eleventh floor because anything above fourteen had been littered with rotting corpses and twelve had always been an unlucky number for him. Seven through ten looked to have been locked down when the power went out, and although the backup generators were still functional, Shannon was unable to figure out exactly how to access that bank of rooms.
Reaching the main level, Ethan could hear their voices before he could see them. Griffin, Carly, and his mother sat around a blackjack table sharing stories as Frank stood on the opposite side, shuffling a deck of playing cards. They looked relaxed, and for the first time in days, happy.
Striding from the stairwell to the raised circular bar at the center of the floor, Ethan glanced at his friends and offered a smile and a nod. He leaned over the bar as his mother looked on, reached for a beer and a can opener, setting them both on the counter.
Without turning, he took a seat at the bar and stared at the frosted bottle. Before the world went to hell, this would have been a dream for him. A mostly stocked bar with more ways to forget himself than he could calculate. But today he didn’t care. He didn’t need it. He didn’t want it, and in fact, the thought of it now turned his stomach.
Turning away from the seventeen-ounce bottle, he leaned back in the stool and just listened to his friends. They’d gone back to their extremely lopsided game of blackjack and took turns giving Frank grief. Helen claimed that the man nearly her same age must have invented the game, while Griffin and Carly talked about stacked decks and card counting.
Ethan laughed under his breath before finally reaching for the bottle, leaning over the counter, and placing it back in the refrigerated cooler. Turning in his seat, he watched his friends interacting with one another for another few minutes, just enjoying the scene. Their smiles, their enthusiastic laughter, and the way they related to one another despite the torment that waited beyond the walls of their new home.
Leaving the bar, he pushed his stool back and walked the short distance to the blackjack table. Taking the seat alongside his mother, Ethan kissed her on the head and told her that he loved her. She responded in kind and then tossed her cards onto the table in front of Frank.
“Bust,” she said. “Again, I swear you’re cheating somehow.”
Ethan smiled and turned to Griffin and Carly. “Didn’t I tell you never to sit down at one of these tables with Frank? The man’s brain is like a computer.”
“Yeah,” Carly said, “I think he’s won every single hand.”
Sliding a stack of twenty-five dollar chips across the table,
Griffin turned to Ethan and then to Frank. “All in.”
Frank laughed and shook his head. “Too bad this wasn’t real, I’d be walking out of this place a rich man.”
Ethan offered a short chuckle, but his mind had drifted and the others could see it. They’d begun to see the change in him the moment they all walked through the doors of the luxury hotel. And with each passing day, he was pulling further away from the group. His mother told them that it was just her son trying to find his place amongst the others and that he’d bounce back in due time.
He had heard the whispers, and as much as he wanted to set their minds at ease, he also didn’t want to give his friends a false sense of hope. He had something he needed to do, and although they meant well, they could never understand what he was dealing with.
“Mother,” Ethan said, motioning away from the table. “Can we talk?”
Ethan then stood and held out his arm. His mother wrapped hers in his and they walked back toward the main entrance. Finding their way into the lobby, Ethan slowed and turned to his mother. “How are you?”
“I’m,” she paused a moment and made sure to look into his eyes, “I’m okay.”
Ethan nodded. “I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t really know how to make this any better for you… for any of you.”
“Ethan, that isn’t your job and the others aren’t looking to you to make things better. I don’t even know if that’s possible anymore.”
“It is possible, but we need to work together, not take any chances.” Ethan let his arm drop and took her hand in his. “And I need you to promise me something.”
Furrowing her brow, his mother looked confused. “Promise you something?”
“I need you to promise me that you won’t do anything around here that puts you in danger. Shannon and Ben have this place locked down pretty tight, and as long as we don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be okay here for a while.”
“I understand Ethan, but…”
She didn’t have to finish. He knew what she wanted to say and also why she stopped herself.
“Emma,” he said.
“Yes, I’m sorry but I just can’t stop thinking about her out there all alone. What she must be going through, it’s just too much.”
He hadn’t told her about Emma’s most recent message. He hadn’t told anyone. It wasn’t something they needed to hear and it wouldn’t do anything for their morale. This was something that Ethan needed to handle without their help.
“Mother, Emma is okay. You will get to see her again; I promise you that.”
She smiled wide and wrapped her arms around Ethan. “Thank you, son; I love you.”
He squeezed her harder. “I love you too, Mom.”
Over his left shoulder, Griffin had given up on the card game and was now heading toward the restroom. He walked quickly, but made sure to get Ethan’s attention. “Hey boss man, you check the south side again? Any changes or are we looking for a new plan?”
Ethan kissed his mother on the forehead and turned to face Griffin. “No change, but we’ll figure something out.”
His mother let go of his hand and smiled. “I think I better follow Griffin.”
As she walked away, Ethan turned back toward the blackjack table at the edge of the casino. “Hey Frank…”
Without having to look at the deck he was shuffling, Frank tipped his head toward Ethan. “Yes sir?”
“Ben and Shannon, they still upstairs?”
“Last I knew.”
“Thanks.”
Moving back to the stairs, Ethan reached the control room—or at least that’s what Shannon kept calling it—within five minutes. Opening the door, Shannon still sat hunched over the same computer terminal, while Ben sat to her left, looking over her shoulder. They both turned and greeted him with the same devious smile.
Ben jumped out of his chair first. He’d been attempting to apologize to Ethan since they arrived at the hotel and hadn’t let up for one minute.
“Ethan, are we good?”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, we are good. Just bring it down a notch. Save your energy, you’re gonna need it.”
“Oh good. Did you find a way through that mess out there? Are we finally getting out of here?”
Shannon turned at Ben’s question.
“Ethan?”
Ethan shook his head. “Not yet, but I’m working on something.”
Shannon turned away from the terminal. “Okay?”
Laying his hand on Ben’s shoulder, Ethan let a wide grin slide across his face. “Ben, could you do me a huge favor and go find Griffin?”
Ben stared at Ethan for a moment, then looked back at Shannon and quickly back to Ethan again. “Oh… yeah, go find Griff. Got it.”
The kid was gone before he could thank him. And turning back to Shannon, Ethan’s face had changed. She could see it and before he could speak, she moved out of her chair.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing really, just wanted to check on the generators.”
That’s not what he wanted and although Shannon knew that, she played along. “We’ve only got maybe fifty percent still functioning.”
“What does that mean to us, how much more time before this place is completely in the dark?”
“I don’t know this system, but I’d say that maybe another week or two, maybe less, it’s hard to tell.”
“If we do lose power, what does that do to the entrances and exits?”
“I’m not too sure. But the doors at the back of the casino only open out, so we really don’t need to worry about those.”
“The front?”
“Ethan, I couldn’t get access to their entire system, and what I did find was mostly because of Ben.”
“Okay.”
“But wait, I thought you and Griffin secured the front.”
“Yeah, we did. I just… I mean… never mind.”
“Really?” she said. “You came up here for a reason, and it wasn’t just to check on the generators. You’ve been acting weird since we got here.”
“Well, I just… I wanted to make sure that…”
Shannon stepped close to him and reached for his hand. “Talk to me, what is it?”
He hesitated. “I just want to be sure that this place is safe. It’s got to be.”
“It is safe, at least for as long as the power stays on.”
There was more he wanted to say, much more. But the time for that would come. At the moment, there was somewhere he needed to be. Pulling Shannon in close, he looked into her eyes and kissed her. She kissed him back and just as the moment began to take them, Ethan pulled away.
“Thank you.”
A shy smile started across her face, like a school girl that had just been kissed for the first time. “For what, the kiss? That one’s on the house, but from now on, it’s gonna cost you.”
He matched her smile and nodded. “Yes, for the kiss, and for everything else.” And before she had a chance to respond, he gently released her hand, backed to the door, and disappeared down the hall.
49
Day Thirteen…
The sun would be up in less than an hour, and as his friends dreamt of better days, Ethan stood at the door to suite two-eleven watching his mother sleep. He quietly walked to her bedside table, slipped the handwritten note under the edge of the book she’d been reading, and kissed her on the side of her head. He was now finished, he’d done what he come to do, and although he knew what came next, he was having a hard time walking away.
“I love you,” he said in a low whisper, before closing his eyes and allowing to the image to remain.
Pausing a moment, he took in a slow breath, opened his eyes, and stepped back out into the hallway. With his right hand against the wall as a guide, he felt his way through the darkened corridor. Upon reaching the stairwell, he turned on a small handheld flashlight and made quick work of the two flights of stairs.
Out onto the main casino floor, Ethan gave the area a final
look. He double checked each boarded entrance, walking the perimeter for anything he may have overlooked on his last trip through the area.
Moving to the main reception area, he slipped in behind the front desk and open the cabinet behind register number four. Pulling free the black bag he’d found within minutes of entering the building three days earlier, he set it atop the counter and pulled back the zipper.
Removing the contents and stashing the oversized duffle bag back under the desk, Ethan quickly slipped on the muted black riot gear and strapped on the uncomfortably small helmet. These items didn’t completely ensure his safety, and they weren’t exactly fitted for his frame, but it was something. And right now, it was better than the alternative.
Moving back into the casino and heading for the rear of the building, he checked the two nine millimeter pistols he carried on his belt and the pockets along his vest for the three spare magazines. Now confident in his plan, he moved quickly to the door and the AK-47 he’d found yesterday while clearing the eleventh floor.
Gripping the semi-automatic rifle in his right hand, he pushed open the door that lead to the rear parking structure, and looked out over the desolate landscape. The sun was at his back and still fighting to show itself above the eastern horizon, but now lit the path he was about to travel.
Stepping out and allowing the door to close behind him, Ethan prayed silently that his sister would still be there when he arrived.
What’s Next?
BOOK FOUR - REVOLUTION
COMING SOON!
To be notified the moment it becomes available, be sure to join the “New Releases” mailing list at: www.JeffOlah.com
Also by Jeff Olah
The Dead Years
RATH
INTENT
About the Author
Jeff Olah is the author and creator of the best-selling series The Dead Years and The Last Outbreak. He writes for all those readers who love good post-apocalyptic, supernatural horror, and dystopian/science fiction.
