Blackout: A Romance Anthology

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Blackout: A Romance Anthology Page 62

by Stephanie St. Klaire


  “All of Vegas is out?” a middle-aged woman asks in terror.

  I shine my phone her way. It’s obvious the same things are starting to go through her mind as they are in mine.

  Terrorist attack.

  I take a deep breath, trying to fight back my tears of absolute fear. “Yes. Everything is dark.” I’m barely able to speak when I finish, “It’s a total blackout.” I run my fingers through my hair, trying to calm my nerves.

  “I’ve heard that things like this can happen.” A tall man with shaggy hair approaches us from out of nowhere. “Solar flares can take out total power grids. I watched this National Geographic special about how our world would basically collapse because water pumps, gas pumps, banking, everything is run on power, and without it, we’d all go down—fast.”

  “Not helping, man,” a younger guy in his mid-thirties says as he wraps his arm around his young daughter, walking past us.

  “Hey, sometimes, the truth hurts,” the shaggy-haired guy says back, but the other man just keeps walking.

  I look at Jason, even more freaked out than before.

  “Are you locked out?” he asks, and I can see his eyes roam down my robe.

  I nod.

  “Come on, let’s get you some clothes.”

  He opens his door, and I enter, pulling my robe even tighter around me.

  This guy has been so hot and cold, and now, I’m sitting here, in the dark in his room with basically no clothes on. My oh shit meter is pegged at full max.

  I search around the dark space, trying to figure out if I have any other options. When I see the door is still propped open by the lock, I feel only slightly better.

  My hands roam down the softness that’s wrapped around me. I can’t go outside without any clothes, especially by myself. And what if that guy was right? What if something is happening in the hotel, and I can’t get out later? The windows are all sealed shut. I couldn’t climb out without breaking one, and I’m sure that wouldn’t be an easy task.

  Wait. I drop my head to my chest. Why am I even wondering this when I can’t get in my room?

  My eyes start to well with tears again, but I blink them away, trying not to make a fool of myself in front of this guy. The last thing he wants is a head case to deal with during a catastrophe.

  As of right now, he’s my only hope for help from someone who isn’t an absolute stranger. I mean, he is a stranger, but at least I know this stranger’s name. I need to take what I can get.

  Jason heads toward the second bed in the room where his suitcase is flipped open.

  “I think I have something in here that you can pull tight to fit you.” He faces me again, and I hold my phone up to see him better. “Um, do you have any …” He glances down and pauses, not finishing his thought.

  I flush, nodding. “Yes, thankfully, I’m good in that department.”

  A slight tilt to his lips makes me even hotter as he hands me a pair of drawstring sweatpants and a sweatshirt. “Here, I’ll go into the bathroom to give you some privacy.”

  He exits before I can say anything, and I stand there, trying to figure out how to make this work. After placing my phone on the bed with the light up, I decide to pull the pants on while keeping my robe pulled tight. They are three sizes too big, so I cinch the drawstring as much as I can and roll them three times before tying it in a knot.

  Reaching down, I turn the phone, so it’s facedown, and the room is pitch-dark, so I can remove the robe and slide the sweatshirt over my head.

  Manly heaven greets my senses, and I pull the front up to my nose to smell the woodsy goodness one more time. As I slide my hands down the front, I feel words, so I pick my phone back up to see what it says.

  In white letters on a maroon sweatshirt, the word Stanford is spelled out boldly and proudly. I pinch my lips and nod ever so slightly.

  Hmm … so he’s smart …

  “Are you dressed?” he calls out.

  “Yeah, come on out.”

  He exits, holding his phone down so that it doesn’t shine in my face.

  I wrap my arms around my center. “Thank you for this. Did you go here?”

  “Go here?” he says, stepping back. “What do you mean?”

  I hold up the sweatshirt from my body. “Stanford? Did you graduate from there?”

  “Oh.” He visibly relaxes. “Yeah. I graduated a few years ago.”

  We pause, staring at each other for a brief moment before a scream from the hallway makes my heart pound.

  For a second, Jason made me forget what was happening, why I was standing in his room, now wearing his clothes, in the complete dark. I run to the door, and my stomach drops, fear gripping my insides as I question what she could be screaming about.

  A woman in her early twenties, dressed in a tight miniskirt, is drunk and having a panic attack in the hallway. Her friends surround her, trying to coax her into standing up.

  “It’s happening. We’re all going to die. We can’t go outside. We have to stay here,” she screams in absolute fear.

  A bigger guy moves her blonde hair from her face, squatting down so that he’s level with her. “This is just a power outage. It’s not a terrorist attack.”

  “That’s what they want us to believe! They’ll get us all outside, and then we’re just fish in a bucket.” Her eyes are wide and filled with tears.

  Jason steps out in front of me. “It’s not like that. It’s just a blackout.”

  “How do you know?” she screams back at him.

  He stands up straight, not saying anything.

  She screams even louder, “See? He doesn’t know. No one does. I can’t handle this.” She crawls up into a ball like she’s trying to climb into the wall and disappear.

  Before we know it, she grabs her stomach and throws up all over the hallway. Her friends jump back, as do Jason and I.

  “What do we do?” I whisper to Jason.

  He turns to enter his room again and is back in a few seconds with some towels. Her friends clean her off and cover the rest of the puke with a towel.

  “We need to get her out of here,” I hear a woman say to another.

  “And go where?” the other girl replies. “We can’t get in our room.”

  They both look to us, and I to Jason.

  “Take her to the pool area. She can lie on the lounge there. Wait here for about twenty more minutes. The hotel is going to evacuate, but if you can get her out there after they’ve searched it, you should be fine until the power comes on,” Jason says.

  The two friends glance at each other and then shrug.

  “Sounds good to me,” one says to the other.

  “Here.” Jason enters the room again and comes out with the comforters from each bed. “Take these, so you have covers. You’ll be out there all night.”

  “You think this will last all night?” the blonde says through her tears when she finally gets over the fact that she just threw up.

  “I-I mean, just in case.” Jason turns to enter his room again. This time, he comes out with the backpack I forgot he was holding when he first entered the hallway.

  “Are you leaving?” I ask, trying to hide my fear of being left alone while I’m internally freaking out.

  He pauses, and I swear, I see him struggling with how to answer, but I don’t understand why. He gave me clothes, he’s helped these people, but now, he’s just going to leave me here? Alone?

  “Please.” I reach out, my face pleading even more. “Just let me find my friends. I don’t want to be left alone.”

  He glances down to the people still sitting on the floor and then back to me. Everyone else has left.

  Please don’t leave me with them. Please. My eyebrows pinch together as my lips tilt down.

  “Cell phones aren’t working. Where are they?” he asks after another beat.

  I lift up my phone, remembering it saying No Signal earlier. I’ve become so reliant on being able to call someone anytime I want that I already forgot.


  “If it’s a blackout, why don’t the cell phones work?” I ask in confusion.

  He shakes his head, placing his hands in his pockets. “Nothing’s working. Everything that isn’t battery-powered is out.”

  “What does electricity have to do with cell towers?” Fear starts to bubble up my stomach again. “Aren’t cell towers a little ways away? Is the entire state of Nevada out?”

  “No. Just Vegas.”

  “How would you know?”

  He reaches for my hand, taking it in his. “Here, let’s go downstairs, and I’ll help you find your friends.”

  Thankful for any help, I don’t stop him from leading me toward the stairs.

  We say good-bye to the people in the hall, wishing them luck. Goose bumps climb up my arms as we enter the empty metal staircase with cement enclosures surrounding us.

  Where the hotel is ritzy and every detail seems taken care of, the stairwell is anything but. It’s obvious that, when they planned the hotel, this was an area they hoped people would never actually enter or use. Yet here I am with a stranger, in the dark, wearing his clothes.

  I notice he hasn’t let go of my hand, so I allow him to hold me, enjoying this little bit of comfort he’s offering among the chaos in my head.

  “Where are your friends?” he asks as we make our way down the stairs with only the flashlight of our cell phones to guide us.

  “They were about to zip line on Fremont Street.”

  He pauses before turning to me, dropping his head to his chest. “You’ll never be able to find them.”

  “What? Why?” I ask, trying to tamp down the panic rising again.

  He gives me a pained expression. “That’s nowhere near us right now, and I’m sure the strip is on lockdown, so getting a taxi will be impossible.”

  I don’t want to be a pain in this guy’s rear end, but I don’t want him to leave me alone in the streets of Vegas either.

  “Did you leave your room open? It’s okay if you have to go. I just don’t want to be left alone on the streets. I can—”

  “No,” he snaps back. “I mean, I don’t think it’s safe in the hotels.”

  “But you told those other people to stay in the pool area …”

  “Yeah, but that’s outside. We aren’t sure if people will loot or set things on fire. It’s safest to just leave altogether.”

  I continue my steps in silence. Not sure what I’ll see when we get to the floor level of the casino. My fate for tonight is about to be decided in a few steps, and I’ve never been so scared as I move blindly to the unknown.

  Taking a deep breath, I stand up a little taller.

  I can do this.

  I’m an adult. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.

  I repeat this mantra in my head until we exit the stairwell and see flashlights beaming from left to right, up and down and all around.

  Calls of, “Everyone, head toward the lobby,” ring from all directions.

  He’s right. They are evacuating the hotel.

  We make our way with the rest of the people. Like herds of cattle, we walk in line, no one knowing what’s going on and just following the person in front of them.

  I overhear a security guard talking to a gentleman, “I’m sorry, sir, but all the cars are behind the metal security gate, and we can’t get to them.”

  “So, you’re saying we’re stuck in Vegas and being kicked out of the hotel?” The man’s anger is evident.

  “We are very sorry for the inconvenience, but it is for your own safety. All alarms are down, and door access to rooms isn’t working. The safest place right now is outside until we can figure out what’s going on.”

  “This is bullshit!” the man yells.

  The poor security guard is just doing his job, and the way his jaw clenches makes my eyes widen in surprise. When he loses his shit, I feel just how real this all is.

  “You know what? I agree. All of this is bullshit, and when we figure out why our state-of-the-art generators failed—at every fucking casino in Vegas—I’ll make sure to let everyone back in. But, until then, please, let me do my fucking job and empty out the hotel.”

  The man’s wife pulls on his arm, and without another word, the guy backs off and steps in line with us. I turn to Jason, and he’s stone-cold, looking straight forward with no expression at all.

  I continue to stare at him, trying to figure out what’s going on in his head.

  Is he as scared as I am? Is he just trying to put on a front with everyone around him? What the hell is up with this guy?

  CHAPTER 6

  Once we’re outside, a swoosh of cold air sweeps across us, and I pull the sweatshirt closer to my body.

  Jason leads us away from the building to the opposite side of the street before stopping, looking around, and then facing me. He bites the inside of his lip, starting to pace.

  As far as I can see, in both directions, people are pouring out of establishments. Some are crying, some are angry, and some are just as confused as we are. With everyone using their cell phones as flashlights, the area is lit up in a strobe-light consistency.

  I couldn’t think of anything except needing to get outside but now that I am, my fears return in full force. That girl upstairs was right. We are fish in a barrel, sitting out here. My vision goes to the hotel rooms above us, wondering if someone did this on purpose or if there are gunmen surrounding us right now.

  I grab Jason’s arm, pulling him into me. “We need to get out of here. Or at least get under something. Someone could start shooting from any direction, and we’re just sitting here in the wide open.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s nothing like that,” he says, removing his arm from my grip and wrapping it around me in a protective manner.

  His large frame engulfs my body, and I feel a tiny bit of relief wash over me but not enough to stop questioning. “Why are you so sure? How are you staying so calm?”

  He briefly closes his eyes before leading me down the street. “If you’ll feel more comfortable, I have my truck over here. We can hang out in there until you figure out where to go.”

  Thankful to leave the open setting, I walk with him, curled into his side. With every step away from the strip, my nerves start to calm. I convince myself that, if something were to happen, it would happen on the strip. Leaving the area has to be safer.

  People are starting to huddle in groups as everyone wonders what to do next. Car alarms ring in every direction, and screams of fear are turning into hoots and hollers. The farther away from the strip we get, the calmer things become. With every step we take, things seem a little more normal—or as normal as they can be without electricity anywhere.

  It takes us a few minutes until we get to his truck that’s parked backward in a corner spot of a parking lot.

  The newer-looking Dodge Ram is nice, and I know these things aren’t cheap. Questions of why it’s all the way so far away start to flurry in my mind. I know valet is expensive, but to leave your car parked this far away to save a few bucks is a little on the crazy side, even for penny-pinching me.

  Jason unlocks the door with a key, not an automatic button.

  I laugh when I say, “Who actually uses the key anymore?”

  He stops short and looks at me with a smirk on his face. “Those things are so easy to decipher for someone who wants to break into your car. I disabled mine the second I bought the truck.”

  Well then, you learn something new every day.

  He opens the door, and when a gruff-looking guy in a baseball hat approaches us out of nowhere, Jason throws his body in front of me, almost knocking me over.

  “My bad.” The guy throws his hands in the air, showing no harm.

  Jason keeps his arm out straight against me, blocking me just incase as I hop in the truck.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” the guy continues. “We’re trying to make the best of this blackout and keep the party going. All we need are car lights. We have the alcohol; some people raided the store d
own the street.” He holds up his hands again, showing his innocence. “Not me, but hey, I came to Vegas, and I’m not going to let a little loss of electricity stop me. So, any chance you can turn your lights on and do us a solid in this time of need?”

  He points to the empty spots in front of us where a few cars have formed a circle, essentially blocking our way out.

  Jason turns, and we catch eyes. His face is hard to read. He doesn’t seem annoyed by the situation, but I know something’s going on in that head of his.

  I reach my hand up to his back, letting him know I’m okay.

  “We can stay in the truck. We’ll be fine here,” he says.

  I search around us, taking in where we’re parked, noticing there are no high buildings around, making me feel a little more secure about our situation, so I nod and sit back in the passenger seat.

  Jason nods to the guy. “Sure thing.”

  “Awesome, man. Drinks are located next to the Honda over there. Help yourself.”

  The door closes, and I inhale the scent of him that suddenly surrounds me.

  A sticker that has Visitor written across it above the words that I think say Medical Center, but it’s too far away to see where to, is haphazardly taped to his dashboard. I want to ask what it’s for, but since he’s been so cryptic, I decide against it.

  Once he climbs in the driver’s side, he flips his lights on and shifts his body toward me. “I can still figure out a way to get out of here if you’d feel safer somewhere else?”

  “It’s okay. I feel protected here.” I reach my hand out to his. “I can’t thank you enough for taking me under your wing. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been there. Especially in my robe.” I try to laugh at the situation.

  He smirks. “It was a damn nice robe though.”

  I feel my face flush, and I turn my attention to the growing party outside.

  He places his hand on my knee. “These look like they fit you pretty well though. It’s not very often I see someone else wearing my clothes.”

 

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