by John
Hennings drew a handgun from a holster on his belt, pointed it at the Korean’s left temple, and blew the man’s brains out.
Normally Walker would have been shocked and appalled, but he wasn’t. It was then and there that he knew something had turned inside of him. There was no way he would ever again be the man he was six months earlier.
As the men regrouped and examined the contents of the Koreans’ Humvees, Hennings caught Walker watching him. The captain shrugged.
Walker didn’t have a problem with that.
SIXTEEN
AUGUST 5, 2025
The Guardsmen reached Las Vegas during the morning hours, when once upon a time in “Sin City” most citizens and tourists would be sleeping off a wild night on the town while the hardcore gamblers would already be shouting “Jackpot!” on the floors of the big hotel casinos. However, during the past decade, Las Vegas as a destination hot spot declined with the country’s failing economy. The glorious and gaudy establishments that lined the Strip closed down, but the shells remained intact, a ghostly reminder of America’s decadent prosperity. The spectacular neon lights and signs, which used to operate even during daylight hours, stayed dead 24/7. There were no more live shows, no showgirls, and no stand-up comics. It was a real drag.
That’s what the city was like the last time Walker visited Vegas, at least three years before the EMP blast.
But as the small caravan of horses and Humvees rolled along Las Vegas Boulevard, Walker could see that something had changed. For one thing, plenty of people were on the streets and they didn’t appear too downtrodden. Some of the population waved and cheered at the soldiers, but it seemed to Walker that most of them were busy, walking somewhere with purpose. Some were laughing. Families were out for a walk. Couples held hands. Surprisingly, there appeared to be a lot of activity in front of the derelict hotels. The Guardsmen passed the iconic buildings of the Luxor and Excalibur, New York New York, the old Planet Hollywood, the Bellagio, and Bally’s, and it was as if the casinos had reopened and were doing a booming business. People walked in and out, and there was a bounce to their steps. Most remarkable of all, they looked clean, as if they’d showered that morning, and their clothing appeared to be freshly-laundered.
My God, Walker thought. These folks look relatively happy!
Another striking aspect was that the Strip was clear of abandoned vehicles. It had become a pedestrian walkway, although Walker was astonished to see a few working automobiles puttering along.
When the caravan reached the front of Caesars Palace, a man in a sheriff’s uniform stood in the middle of the street, waving his arms for the Guardsmen to stop. He looked to be in his late fifties, had a paunch, and was as well-groomed as the civilians. The Humvees came to a halt and Captain Hennings dismounted from the lead horse. Many of the men got out of the vehicles, including Walker. The big man held out his palm.
“I’m Sheriff McConley, but everyone calls me Sheriff Mack. Welcome to Las Vegas. Where are you boys from?”
Hennings shook his hand. “We’re a National Guard unit from Los Angeles, on our way to Utah. I’m Captain Hennings.”
“I gotta say, you’re the first military outfit we’ve seen since February. Are you just passing through or are you planning to stay awhile?”
Hennings looked at his men. It was clear they wanted to stop.
“I imagine we’ll take a rest here, if you don’t mind.”
“Well, Captain, I’m gonna have to ask you to move your Humvees over to one of the hotel parking lots. Don’t worry, they’ll be safe. I believe there’s room in the Caesars Palace lot behind the hotel. As for the horses, there’s a nice shady fenced corral where we’ve got some of the other animals from the old circus shows. Don’t worry, there are no tigers or anything like that. It’s two blocks north, to the right, off of Sands Avenue. You’ll see the golf course. The corral is right there.”
Walker spoke up. “Sheriff, what’s going on here? Aside from the obvious lack of electricity, it looks like you’re all doing pretty well.”
The sheriff shrugged. “We’re getting by. Why don’t you park your vehicles and come over there—” he pointed across the street to Harrah’s—“I’ve set up my office in the lobby. I’ll give you the lay of the land.”
The Guardsmen deposited the Humvees in the designated lot while four men rode the horses to the corral. On the walk back to Harrah’s, the soldiers were well aware they stood out from the crowd—their uniforms were filthy, they hadn’t bathed or shaved in months, and probably reeked. Johnson remarked, “Man, oh, man, have you checked out the women? They all look so fresh and … beautiful!” Walker agreed. It was a sight for sore and weary eyes.
They all met back at the sheriff’s place. One of the privates who’d been to the corral was amazed that there were people actually playing golf on the course. He said the horses acted as if they’d died and gone to heaven when they were let loose with the other animals.
The sheriff sat them down and said, “I can see by the looks on your faces that you’re impressed by what you’ve seen so far.”
“I’ll say,” Kopple said. “Were you guys not hit as hard as the rest of the country?”
McConley replied, “We were at first. But then the Koreans took over Hoover Dam and Boulder City. Over the past four months or so, they repaired much of the damage on the dam. It’s probably for their benefit, but they got the water going. And that means we have running water in Las Vegas.”
Walker nodded. Everything made sense. That’s why everyone looked so good. It was extraordinary what a little thing like running water could do to make a difference in a civilization.
“That doesn’t mean everything is rosy,” the sheriff continued. “The housing situation was bad before the Koreans hit us. Unemployment was at sixty-five percent in the city. After the EMP there was a mass exodus to LA or San Francisco or Denver. It’s rough getting any kind of supplies from the outside, seeing that we’re stuck in the middle of a desert. Without electricity, there’s still a lot of stuff that doesn’t work. No one’s been able to access their money out of banks since January sixteenth. There’s no money changing hands, which in Las Vegas, I know sounds ridiculous. But we’ve worked out something else. We have our own little economic system going and so far it’s worked pretty well.”
“What’s that?” Hennings asked.
“Casino chips. We’re using them as currency.”
Walker wanted to laugh. “You’re joking.”
“No, sir. Don’t get me wrong, they don’t get you very far. It’s not like real money, they’re more like credit tokens. We use them to keep food vendors in business, run some essential services like law enforcement, and for, well, entertainment.”
“Entertainment?”
“The casinos are open, my friends. There’s no electricity and everyone plays by candlelight. The slots don’t work, of course, but all the games that didn’t depend on electricity are active. You know, card games, craps, roulette, that kind of thing. No one bets with real money; they use the chips.” McConley shrugged. “It satisfies the heavy gamblers’ addiction and it gives the rest of us something fun to do. Believe me, living here isn’t paradise. As you know, it’s hot as hell. Without AC the buildings are like furnaces. We keep all the windows in the hotels open. Oh, and most people have moved in to the hotel rooms on the lower floors. The mayor finally made it a free-for-all town after a couple months of people living on the street. So feel free to pick a hotel, select a room, and take a shower. I have to say you boys, ahem, need one.”
“Sounds like paradise to me,” Johnson said.
“What are you doing for food?” Hennings asked.
“We have four communal mess halls in the city. The one over here on the Strip is at the Bellagio. They’re only open for breakfast and dinner, seven to nine in the morning and six to eight in the evening. You’ll need casino chips to buy a meal. We have a big greenhouse where we grow vegetables. There’s no meat, but we have chickens that
lay eggs so you can have yourself an omelet. We don’t kill the chickens, there’s not enough of ’em. And that brings me to some of the other rules. No thievery of any kind. We deal with that crime severely. Because you’re military you can hold on to your weapons, but you better not fire them. I suggest you don’t leave them in your hotel rooms. Even though we have strict rules on theft, someone just might like to have one of those automatic machine guns. We also have a strict limit on the amount of alcohol anyone can have, mainly because we’re in short supply. It’s another commodity we have to ration. There’s a two-drink maximum in the casinos.”
“That’s a first,” Kopple remarked.
Hennings asked, “So there’s no Korean presence in the city?”
McConley shook his head. “Hard to believe, but it’s true. They’ve ignored us. I guess they figure there’s nothing here for them. In my opinion, Las Vegas represents the old decadence and capitalist spirit of America, so they don’t want to soil themselves by setting foot in it. I’m just guessing. I keep thinking any day they’re gonna show up, but until that happens we’re trying to make do with what we’ve got and enjoy ourselves. I’m quite proud of the way we’ve adapted. We all came together and cooperated to make it work.”
“This is remarkable,” Walker said.
Hennings leaned forward. “Tell me, sheriff, do you know anything about a resistance group operating in Utah near Bryce Canyon? We’re on our way to a hardened complex there.”
“I’m aware of resistance cells around the country, but I don’t know of one near Bryce Canyon. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Without communications …” The sheriff held up a finger. “However! We are able to receive some radio transmissions.”
Walker’s eyebrows went up. “How?”
McConley checked his watch. “You’re in luck; it’s just about time for a broadcast. I have a ham radio I kept in my basement at home. It wasn’t damaged. I have it here in the other room, come take a look.”
The men stood and followed the sheriff into a small space containing a table, three chairs, and a ham radio that appeared to be circa 1980s. There was a portable generator beneath the table that he fired up.
“We’re utilizing every engine-generator we can for essential needs, like at the hospital. My department took control of the gas and we ration it. We have no idea when we’ll get more. I run the generator once a day to check for any new broadcasts.”
“Broadcasts?” Walker asked.
“The Emergency Broadcast System plays a recorded message five times a day. I don’t know where it’s being broadcast from. They’ve been playing the same message since early June. I’m hoping it’ll change someday soon.” He switched on the radio and the various old tubes lit up. Static filled the room through a speaker as McConley fiddled with the knobs to tune in on a signal. After a few seconds, a steady tone replaced the noise. Fascinated by the machine, the men crowded around the table as if it was the first time they’d ever seen such a miraculous device.
The sheriff looked at his watch again and said, “Should start any second.”
Walker leaned against the wall and focused on the radio. Ideas brewed in his head but he couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly how to interpret them.
Then, a woman’s voice came through loud and clear. “This is a broadcast from the Emergency Broadcast System of the Federal Communications Commission of the United States of America. This is a recording made May twelfth, 2025, and it will be broadcast daily at the following hours, Eastern Standard Time: eight A.M., noon, five P.M., ten P.M., and two A.M. The message was recorded by the president of the United States from a safe and secure location.”
Walker was all ears. He hadn’t heard the president speak since weeks before the attack.
Sure enough, the familiar voice came through the speaker. He introduced himself and began. “My fellow Americans, we are in a state of crisis and your government is fully aware of it and acting upon it. You should know that the vice president, the Cabinet, and I are safe. I cannot reveal the location for obvious reasons, nor can I confirm or deny that we are on U.S. soil. Nevertheless, I want to assure you that we are doing everything within our power to alleviate our situation. I have received official communications from our European allies, and they have all pledged to come to our aid. Unfortunately, due to economic factors that have affected the entire globe, it’s going to take some time before this occurs. I cannot estimate what the time frame will be. As some of you know, the Koreans are holding the state of Hawaii hostage with a nuclear device. They also have thousands of Americans locked up in various locations, so-called detention centers, all over the nation. Our military is helpless to attempt retaliation. I urge you all to sit tight and knuckle down. If you are living under direct control of our Korean occupiers, I implore you to do what you can to survive. If cooperation will keep you and your family alive, then do it. If you are hearing this, pass along what I’ve said to someone who has no access to a working radio. As soon as there is more news to relate, this message will change. We will get through this, my fellow Americans. Pray, keep well, and stay alive.”
The recording ended and McConley turned off the radio and generator. “And that hasn’t changed since May.”
“That’s not good,” Kopple said with a cough. “Fuck, he could be dead. Everyone in charge could be dead.”
There was a sobering silence in the room until Walker asked, “Are other people broadcasting? Ordinary citizens, I mean.”
McConley nodded. “Every now and then someone manages to get something across. Usually it’s about how bad conditions are in their town and they’re asking for help. Sometimes they sound pretty desperate. They’re hard to listen to. You know, the only people who can hear this stuff are the ones who’ve repaired their radios or kept them in shielded environments, like I did.”
“Don’t you think by now the number of repaired radios would be pretty high?”
The sheriff shrugged. “Maybe.”
Kopple looked at Hennings and asked, “So what now, Captain?”
Hennings scanned the eager faces of his men. “Okay, we’ll stay a few days. We’ll meet here in Harrah’s lobby once each morning after the breakfast hours at 0930 starting tomorrow. By the end of the week, though, I’m going to want to move on.”
As they walked outside, Kopple looked at Walker and asked, “What are you going to do?”
“I think I’m going over to Caesars and find me a room where I can shower, shave, and relax. Then I’m gonna hit the tables. What about you?”
The sergeant coughed and answered, “Probably the same, except I’m gonna sleep in a real bed for the next twelve hours or so. Then I may hit the tables.”
They shook hands. “See you around then.”
Walker held a hand up to his brow to shield his eyes from the blistering sun and crossed the street. Inside Caesars lobby, he immediately felt the heavy warmth and stuffiness of the place, but it was better than being outside. A white-haired woman in her sixties or seventies standing behind the old Reception desk handed him a paper fan. He noticed everyone he saw had one and was using it. Behind her on the wall was a huge whiteboard with room numbers and names written on a grid.
“I’ll bet you want a room with a shower,” she said, eyeing him up and down.
“That would be lovely.”
“First two floors are full. There are some empty rooms on the third and fourth. The higher you go, the hotter it is, so I don’t recommend anything above the fourth, but it’s up to you. And you have to take the stairs. Elevators don’t work.”
Walker pointed to an empty space on the whiteboard. “Is 322 taken?”
“Nope.”
“I guess that’s mine, then.”
She asked for his name and then wrote it on the space.
“There are no keys. They used to be electronic, you know, so we’re all on the honor system. You don’t go in anyone else’s room unless you’re invited. Anyone caught doing so is immediately evicted and reported
to the sheriff’s office.”
“Gotcha.”
She picked up a fan and used it on herself as she smiled and batted her eyes. For an older woman, she still had a good figure. Walker thought she might have once been a showgirl.
“Oh, and there’s no maid service, obviously,” she said. “You’ll find linens and such on a table near the elevators on each floor. You’re allowed to wash the linens and your clothes by hand in the basement once a week. Or you can use your bathtub any time you want.”
“Thank you very much.”
“I bet you want some fresh clothes?”
“Is that possible?”
“We have T-shirts and shorts and flip-flops. We charge you in chips but since you don’t have any yet, I can give you the clothes now on credit and a starter set of chips—the first ten are free.”
Walker was flabbergasted. “Are you for real?”
“I’m afraid so.” She went back into the office and returned with a box of ten red chips, T-shirt, shorts, flip-flops, and a one-page contract. “I guessed your size. Bring ’em back if they don’t fit. Sign here; it says you owe us twenty chips for the clothes.”
He did so gladly.
“You in the army?” the woman asked.
He was still wearing a Marine uniform. “No. I was traveling with a National Guard unit.”
She held out a hand for him to shake. “Enjoy your stay at Caesars Palace, buddy. You’ll be a nice-looking fella after a bath and a shave.”
Six hours later, after that shower and shave, and the best nap he’d ever had, Walker went downstairs in his new T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. Ten casino chips were burning a hole in his pocket.
Aside from the modern dress of the occupants, the scene in the casino was like something out of eightteenth- and nineteenth-century paintings of gambling parlors. The entire room was lit by candles that basked the dealers and players in a soft, magical glow. Shadows danced across the high ceiling. Most of the old Caesars Palace pseudo-Ancient Roman decor was still intact, which, combined with the lighting, created an other-worldly effect that conjured up a time and place long forgotten. Gone was the cacophony of slot machine noise; in its place was a subdued, almost tranquil, ambience. A jazz quartet even played acoustic instruments on a stage at one end of the vast hall.
