“What has you acting like . . . an angry me?” Lloyd asks, taking the bill and turning to face the rest of the casino. He holds up a finger to stop the conversation and takes a drink, which he promptly spits out in surprise. “This place is a debt trap. Baxter wasn’t kidding about charging for tissues, which makes me regret sneezing twice. Every door has a fee, there’s a charge for right turns on red, and . . . what the fuck is an inquiry cost? Why do I feel like I just cost us more money with that? I have this image of a group of top hat wearing bastards diving into a sea of gold bars and swimming around like dolphins. Now I’m thinking of them choking as I stuff their throats with coins. Fleshy, gurgling piggy banks.”
“We’ll have the spicy chicken wings too,” the young woman requests, noting the greedy smile of the bartender. She munches on a stale pretzel, which she is sure costs more than her shoes. “The journey is over without the jeep and our gear. Now we’ll fall more and more into debt. Reno probably has assassins or bounty hunters to recover runaway slaves, which is what we are now.”
“Greeter is definitely not the job for you, sunshine,” her friend states while scanning a list of positions on the back of the bill. All of them pay very little and depend highly on tips, which he notices are split between the employee and the establishment. “This mess brings up so many questions. Also I wonder if the jeep was built out of an Indian burial ground. That thing has been beaten up more than us and now it’s been stolen.”
“Think you mean Native American and our jeep is not cursed.”
“No, I really did mean a person from India.”
“Please stop because I have a headache.”
“What if we try to get forgiveness from Shiva?”
“We are not on a Hindu deity’s hit list.”
“How about we summon her and ask?”
“Pretty sure neither of us know what we’re talking about any more.”
Cassidy takes a long drink from the giant margarita that is placed in front of her, the tequila making her feel giddy and borderline predatory. She growls at the sensation of a firm grip on her hip, the blonde swinging a punch without looking. A middle-aged man stumbles away with his hands clutching his nose, which is broken and bleeding. Turning on her seat, the blonde cracks her knuckles, licks her lips, and starts to slide off. She pauses when the man runs away and leaves a trail of gold coins that other patrons violently fight over.
“Fucking moron. I’m not even dressed like a whore,” Cassidy says while she watches the ensuing brawl. She enjoys the show that ends with a person getting slammed onto a craps table, which breaks in half. “Just let me mope, get drunk, and see where tequila takes me. Always get into the wrong kind of trouble when I drink this stuff. At least they didn’t take my mom, but that might still happen. Not that it matters. I should have paid attention to what Baxter was doing or told him to go fuck a neon light. All we had to do was drive through town and pay the people at the California border.”
Lloyd snacks on a few olives, the plastic toothpicks already tucked into his pocket. “I guess you feel like you failed. Don’t forget to blame me too. The man was obnoxious from the beginning. All I had to do was hit the gas when he was in front of the jeep or slip with one of my knives. By the time I tried anything, he had those guards around him and his alarm bracelet was active. We both got sloppy, so let’s bash our way out of this. What’s the worst they can do to us?”
“The Midas Group would charge you for the damages and funeral costs,” the bartender interjects, failing to realize that Lloyd did not want an answer. He shies away from the angry glares he receives and hurries to help a paying customer.
“He has a point. They won’t let us back through here if we cause a scene,” Cassidy points out. She leans over the bar and grabs a handful of maraschino cherries, which she stuffs into her mouth before she is caught. “That means it’ll be harder to travel back east. Not unless we find a way to makes amends with the Midas Group, but I doubt that. These people sound like greedy bastards who are clinging to the wealth of the old world. Gold and jewels are prized more than food and water here. There’s no way for people trapped at the bottom to work within this outdated system.”
Bored with his companion’s whining, Lloyd faces the rest of the casino and memorizes the terrain. He can see uniformed guards patrolling the floor as well as a few suspicious people at the slot machines. Smiles are on the faces of the winning patrons while those falling into debt look like they are about to cry. It strikes the serial killer as odd that there are so many gamblers, his previous assumption being that most of Reno’s population are debt-ridden servants. His eyes fall on a young woman dressed in flannel and muddy boots, which does nothing to dissuade the rich man from offering to pay her for sex. A similar situation is happening to an older man being propositioned by a drunken lady who obviously has an obsession with pearls. The longer Lloyd watches the locals, the more he sees that people get out of debut by doing whatever they can. He takes some comfort from seeing a young man being treated kindly by an elderly woman, her hands quivering as she pulls the slot machine’s arm.
“Our luck wouldn’t lead to that,” Cassidy whispers, her breath reeking of tequila. She rests her chin on Lloyd’s shoulder and purrs at the heart-warming scene. “Guess there are some positions Baxter didn’t put on the list. That could clear our debt, but that wouldn’t help us recover the jeep and supplies. Walking into California isn’t appealing to me. Maybe it’s just pride, but I want my stuff back.”
“Me too, so we can do a few of the unsavory things to buy everything back,” Lloyd suggests before taking a sip of his soda. He cringes at the flatness of the drink and dumps it in the beer of the distracted man sitting next to him. “Probably a way to use my killing expertise like a hitman or violent messenger. The easiest solution is to sleep our way to success, but I don’t think I’ll be popular with the ladies. Worst case scenario is that I wake up with a dead woman in the bed and have to rampage my way to the real killer. That’d be fun, but it wouldn’t get us to where we want to be.”
“If only we had some weapons and gear to steal our stuff back,” Cassidy slurs as she stares at her locket. She gives the necklace a kiss and wipes a few tears from her eyes. “My mom would know what to do. She always did whatever she had to. I’m nothing like her. Can’t even get her ashes across the country with a jeep full of weapons and a crazy serial killer as my only friend. Trapped myself in debt and now I’m drinking tequila, which can make me either homicidal or horny. Depends on the brand and my mood. How the fuck did I get tripped up by something as fucking ridiculous as debt?”
“Because you’re letting it stop you.”
“Well, what am I supposed to fucking do?”
“Be like your mom and do whatever it takes to win.”
“How?”
“Think up a crazy plan and be the adult Cassidy instead of the kid who is cowering in her mother’s shadow,” Lloyd whispers with a wolfish grin. He reaches out to tap on the locket and then poke his friend’s forehead. “You’ve been strong this entire journey. The audience and I would hate to see you crumble now. This is a bump in the road caused by insects that need a really good smashing. Not with a flyswatter, but with a brightly colored sledgehammer that says ‘Fuck You’ on all sides. Now get your brain in gear and give me a plan worthy of a maniac. I’ll even wear red and black while you have white and black. Forget that idea. That’s a romantic psychotic couple and we’re more like siblings of slaughter. Oh, we so have to remember that name if we go to Battle Mountain again.”
Cassidy smiles at her companion’s words and devours a few pretzels while thinking of the perfect way to recover their belongings. Tapping her finger on the bar, she also decides that getting some revenge would be fun too. It is only a vague idea thanks to the alcohol in her system, but it is enough to push her desires toward violence than sex. A wide grin crosses her face when a middle-aged man enters the casino with a satchel, a brief glint of gold beneath the loose flap. The way he
greets the bouncer and smacks a passing waitress on the butt shows that he is a regular. Cassidy swivels to put her back to the man before he notices her staring, his reflection in a mirror allowing her to track him.
“Hold my stuff and wait outside for me,” she says, taking off her pea coat and tearing the neckline of her simple t-shirt. Stealing an ice cube from behind the bar, the blonde rolls it around her lips and exposed skin. “We’ll be back on the road by morning. Though we might have to avoid Reno for the rest of our lives. Small sacrifice, but I’d say it’s for their own good.”
“Not sure you have it in you to be a prostitute,” Lloyd states, giggling at the bad joke in his head. His amusement fades when he watches his friend adjust her clothes for maximum cleavage and straighten her hair. “I know I said do whatever it takes, but this seems like a strange deviation from your usual plans. Come on! You haven’t had that much tequila and I’m pretty sure the bartender skimped on it. I’m still pushing for the killing option since you seem fine with us never coming back here. That would be a lot more fun and pleasurable.”
Cassidy pats Lloyd on the cheek before handing him her shoes and gulping down the rest of her margarita. “Don’t worry. This will be extremely pleasurable for me. Maybe for him if he’s into that kind of stuff or my plan backfires. Steal that guy’s shot of vodka for me because I think I’m going to need it.”
*****
Hidden by the moonless night, Cassidy stares at the installation that is across the road from the high ridge they are hiding on. There are a few blue-roofed buildings behind the tall fence, which has guard towers at every corner. Most of the area is taken up by acquired vehicles and portable storage units, which will either go back to their owners or be auctioned off if not claimed after a year. Armed guards and a few dogs patrol the installation, but all of them are inside the perimeter. With so much open space around the fence, there is no way for a person to approach without being seen. Even under the cover of darkness there are searchlights that glide across the ground and threaten to expose the enemy. This is why Cassidy’s plan stems from the firm belief that they are going to be seen no matter what, so it is better to start things off with a loud bang.
“I don’t like this,” Lloyd says over the walkie-talkie. His voice is hard to hear over a loud rumble and occasional screeches of metal on metal. “Not the whole destruction and death thing, but this doesn’t feel right. The rules of a story is one adventure in every location. We’ve been following that until now. Why two incidents in Nevada? Let’s give ourselves a day to see if anything else is going on, kid.”
“Not the time for your issues. Besides, it’s the perfect night for this, so we have to do it now,” Cassidy replies, settling in to aim the sniper rifle at one of the northern searchlights. After a few gentle breaths, she shatters the bulb and grins at how the guards begin yelling. “I’ll cover you from here and all you have to do is get the jeep. From what that local told me, they don’t unload newly acquired vehicles until a week has passed. Probably has to do with red tape or something. Honestly, you have the easier part. There are scorpions and rattlesnakes out here. Not to mention the ground is cold.”
“Uh, there are dogs and guns over there,” her companion points out before his voice is drowned out by a loud horn. “All I’m saying is that it’s endgame after this. Maybe we should work with a little caution in case there’s a wrinkle. You know how a lot of stories have a last minute disaster to increase tension. This could be it with one of us dying or the locket getting lost in the desert or your father appearing in your scope.”
“Like that would stop me from shooting.”
“And people call me a cold-blooded killer.”
“You are.”
“Yes, but I’m also friendly and entertaining.”
“Just shut up, Lloyd, and move faster.”
Cassidy takes out another searchlight and scans the area for her next target, stopping when she sees Baxter walk into a building. She is tempted to shoot him, but fears that taking out a person now would reveal her position. All the blonde can do is watch him go inside and hope that he returns when the action really starts. The temptation to snipe him through the window makes the young woman curse under her breath before going back to scanning the area for other dangers. She is amazed that there is such a basic defense around the installation considering all of the wealth inside.
The reason for only having a fence, guards, and dogs becomes clear when she spots a woman crawl out from under one of the vehicles. Instead of packing up her tools, the mechanic pulls out a box that she is carefully checking. Stomping her foot in frustration, the worker returns to whatever she is installing and only her legs can be seen. When the woman comes into view again, she gives a thumbs up to one of the buildings and packs up her tools. Something about the way the mechanic moves, as if she fears touching any of the cars, sends a chill up Cassidy’s spine. Zooming in on the window that the worker gestured to, she sees a guard sitting at a large console full of detonator switches in front of him. The woman appears to hand him the box, which he removes a piece from and installs into the bigger machine.
“We have a problem, Lloyd,” Cassidy whispers, moving the rifle to get a look at where her friend will attack from. She hears him clear his voice and guesses he is either rolling his eyes or mocking her in some fashion. “Every vehicle has a bomb on the undercarriage. I don’t think it’s connected to the electrical system or the ignition. Probably something they set off when it gets far enough away from the buildings. I can see the control room from here. Do you think you can take the bomb off while I cover you?”
“Sure, I’ll just use the screwdrivers and whatever other tools I have in my robotic hand,” the serial killer sarcastically replies. The walkie-talkie erupts with static for a few moments and returns with another dull rumble. “I’m almost there, so get ready to keep them off me. If they don’t want to set everything else off then there’s no rush to get rid of the bomb. Shoot those inside the room right before I leave with the jeep. After that, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to either remove it or get out of signal range. Bombs work like that, right? Never can tell with movies because half the time you can blow them from an entire country away and other times you need to be standing in front of a perfectly placed camera to be viewed later by the good guys.”
“We’ll ditch it when you pick me up.”
“As long as we aren’t being chased.”
“Not if everything goes well.”
“I really should have painted this thing red and blue.”
There is no time to reply to the last joke as Cassidy watches a large tractor trailer come barreling off Interstate 80. With most of the guards examining the distractions on the north side, there are only a handful of people to shoot at the attack coming from the south. Bullets bounce off the metal plates that have been sloppily bolted onto the hood. Similar protection is around the windshield, which is why Lloyd keeps his head out the driver’s side window until he is sure he will not miss. Guards and searchlights are taken down by Cassidy’s sniper shots, her aim getting less accurate when she has to rely more on the poor night vision function of the scope. She is still able to clear several enemies before the truck smashes through the fence, runs over whoever is in the way, and heads for where Lloyd sees the jeep.
A major flaw in the plan is apparent when Cassidy realizes that the truck has blocked her view of nearly a quarter of the installation. She is thankful that Lloyd comes out on the passenger side, the serial killer slipping out of the space between the cab and the trailer. He dives under a van before the tower guards can hit him, the potential for an explosion stopping them from shooting at his hiding place. Cassidy takes advantage of the delay to take out as many exposed enemies as she can, but she is forced to reload before she can clear all four towers. Patting another blanket-covered weapon, the blonde takes a deep breath and goes back to covering her friend. It takes her several agonizing seconds to locate the serial killer and it takes her even
longer to figure out what she is looking at.
Lloyd is running from the dogs while waving one of the car bombs around, which makes Cassidy chuckle. None of the guards want to risk causing an explosion by shooting the man and repeatedly look at the detonator room for instructions. It dawns on the sniper that they might not understand how the devices actually work beyond installing them and hitting a button. Unless Lloyd has his finger on a button that she cannot see, which is entirely possible and a level of crazy that she would not put passed her friend. Feeling guilty about her next shot, Cassidy snipes one of the dogs to make the rest stop their pursuit.
“Strange how I don’t like killing an animal, but humans are easy,” she whispers while adjusting for a better view. Two shots take out the last of the searchlights and she sees an array of beacons appear from the guards’ vests. “They’re making this too easy. Headshots all already, people. Get the fucking jeep and leave, Lloyd. My other toy is getting antsy.”
Scanning the area for her companion, she eventually finds that he has used the darkness to slit the throats of a few guards. Instead of the bomb, he is now holding a strange, circular object that she cannot identity through the scope. With the enemies having been trained not to fire wildly into the dark, the gunshots quickly subside and the only sounds are that of them yelling directions. Deciding to scare them a bit, Cassidy fires at a few cars that some of the guards are standing near. The sound of a bullet piercing the hood causes them to jump and one even whirls around to unload his magazine at another squad. A brief firefight occurs until one group is down to a single man and the other realizes who they are shooting at.
The rev of an engine comes over the walkie-talkie and Cassidy watches the jeep come barreling around the parked tractor trailer. She barely notices a rectangular object getting hurled out the driver’s side window and onto the larger vehicle. The remaining guards are scrambling to get around the truck and shoot at the jeeps tires, none of them aware of whatever their enemy has left behind. As Lloyd reaches the broken fence, Cassidy snipes the two workers in the detonator room before they can hit any switches. She looks back to her friend in time to see him jam the mysterious globe onto a metal post while the jeep awkwardly skids through the gaping perimeter breach.
Crossing Bedlam Page 31
