by Kyle West
“I will let Boss Dragon know,” Michael said. “Although every gang in Vegas will know about you within minutes of your landing. Each one will want to meet with you personally.”
“I don’t have time for that. Can’t I just meet them all at the same time?”
Michael smiled grimly. “There aren’t too many summits, these days. Things are near a snapping point, and most think there’ll be another gang war soon.”
“I don’t care,” Makara said. “I have to get these gangs focused not on each other, but focused on what matters. This city will be dead in a matter of weeks — maybe days. The Great Blight is preparing its next move.”
Michael nodded. “If I go to Boss Dragon personally about this, he might be persuaded. He’s mediated such meetings before. We can take you inside the city to meet him.”
Makara frowned. “I don’t like that idea. I’d rather he come out to meet me.”
“That won’t happen,” Michael said.
Makara sighed. “We’ll figure this out. What gangs are there in the city?”
“Well,” Michael said, “The Dragons are only one of six. There are the Kings, the Reds, the Sworn, the Diamonds, and the Suns.”
“And now, the Angels,” I said.
“And if you count the Exiles and the Raiders, that makes nine total,” Anna said.
No one said anything, pausing to the think of the repercussions of having nine violent gangs around one another.
“This is going to be a bloodbath, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Let’s go,” Makara said.
With that command, everyone moved to Odin.
Chapter 6
After ferrying the last of the bikes across the gorge, we flew in a straight line northwest. The beginning of the city’s outskirts passed below, a maze of crumbling, gray buildings, houses, and roads scattered with rubble. In the distance rose dozens of skyscrapers, shadows against the darkening sky — the remains of the Vegas strip. Those lights had been out for thirty years, now. The buildings, roads, and city lay before us in a sprawled grid, completely empty save for abandoned vehicles and debris that cluttered the streets. The entire city had stopped in one moment, frozen in time, left to rot — to be buried in dust.
Makara landed Odin north of a large interstate interchange, right in the center of a cleared highway. Dust shifted on the smooth concrete, covering mangled green road signs with red sand. Dilapidated buildings and department stores lined both sides of the highway, their broken windows, lack of paint, and bare appearance reminding me of skeletons. Graffiti coated the buildings’ sides, florid letters in colors of purple, green, and red. The sun appeared as a red blotch to the west through the dust, sinking behind a tall skyscraper.
Ahead and to the north lay what Michael referred to as the Sunset Gate. A mountain of rubble rose before us, walling out the abandoned outskirts of town and sheltering what remained of Vegas itself — the tall buildings of the Strip, to our northeast, along with its surrounding blocks. The gate was a massive wooden construction, similar to the one I had seen guarding Raider Bluff. To open, it would slide to the side, its large wheels on a track. The gate guarded the northbound side of the highway, while rubble completely blocked off the southbound lanes. On either side of the gate rose wooden towers, where turrets had been set up. Men stood there, watching us.
We stepped off the ship. In the distance, we heard the rumble of the Exiles’ engines approaching. While we waited for them to arrive, the sun fell, covering the land in darkness.
Michael stood off a way, speaking on his radio. He was trying to figure out when, or if, we could come inside the walls.
The Exiles pulled up in a collective roar of engines, and parked their bikes along the overpass’s railing. One by one, the bikes were shut off, and the men began setting up camp. As tents went up and a bonfire was built, I marveled at their efficiency. I just wondered where they had kept all these supplies.
I noticed that some of the men spoke together in groups and looked off toward the south. A short way out from the overpass were a couple hundred tents, in the midst of which burned dozens of separate fires. It was the Raiders’ camp. Surrounding the whole thing was a crude, wooden fence that had been raised in a hurry.
Makara, too, stared off in that direction. For the first time in three months, she was going to see Char.
When our own fire was lit, Michael turned from his position and approached us.
“They’re not sending anyone out tonight,” he said. “Likely, they’ll organize a summit to decide what to do about you, first.”
“I need to meet with all of them as soon as possible,” Makara said. “This can’t wait.”
“That will happen, but you have to give them time to react to this,” Michael said. “I mean, a spaceship and thirty fighting men have just landed outside their walls. Wouldn’t you be surprised if that happened?”
Makara gave a noncommittal grunt. “There is no time for waiting. The Great Blight is moving, and won’t pause for anyone. Can’t we go in tonight? Not me, personally — I have to meet with Char.”
Michael nodded. “I’ll try to work out something out. Maybe if you give me a couple of your crew, then explaining what’s going on to the Boss will be much easier.”
“Take Alex with you,” Makara said.
I hadn’t expected to go in tonight, but I tried to take it in stride.
“Alright,” Michael said. “I think the Boss will be fine with that.”
“Remember, this isn’t just about what he wants,” Makara said. “I’m important, too.”
“I’ll protect your interests,” I said.
“So, is that his real name?” Makara asked. “The Boss?”
“It’s Elijah, but there are protocols,” Michael said. “I’ve only been here two months or so, and everyone calls him Boss Dragon. I’m not about to call him something different. He’s the last person I want to piss off.”
“If Alex is going, then I’m going, too,” Anna said, walking up. She turned to me. “I think you could use some backup.”
I nodded. I was glad she was coming, and was surprised that she would rather come with me than see Char, whom she had once guarded. The moral support would be good, and to tell the truth, she was much better in a fight than I was.
“There will be absolutely no fighting,” Michael said, seemingly reading my thoughts. “Things are tense enough as they are without starting another war. Besides, outsiders are required to leave weapons at the gate.”
“That’s not acceptable,” Makara said.
“No harm will come to either Alex or Anna,” Michael said. “What’s important here is letting Boss Dragon know what’s going on. He can update the rest of the lords on the situation.”
“Fine,” Makara said. “Both of you go. Samuel, Marcus, and I can hold down the fort here and meet with Char. Just try to get back by tonight.”
“Maybe this is a chance for Alex to catch me up on what’s going on.”
I nodded. Even though Michael was from Bunker 108, where my father researched the xenovirus, the virus itself wasn’t common knowledge. Only my father, Chan, and I had known about it in any sort of detail. And Khloe knew some, from what little I told her. To most people, these “Blighters,” as they were called, were nothing more than monsters. Soon, all that would change when Michael and others learned about the true cause of the Blighters — the xenovirus.
Hopefully, what we had to tell them would be enough to get everyone to stop their fighting and work together. And not only work together, but join Makara and the New Angels.
We had a long road ahead of us.
* * *
Michael, Anna, and I approached the Sunset Gate. Two large torches blazed on either side, casting a feeble orange light on the thick wooden doors.
“Are they always on guard duty like that?” I asked.
Michael nodded. “These days, they have to be. The gangs have a pact where each donates the same amount of members to man the walls, so th
at no one gets too powerful. Attacks from the Blight happen almost every night. Usually, it’s just a few crawlers that we can scare off with a few shots. Sometimes, there’s more, and you have to worry.”
“You must have a lot of ammo.”
“We won’t be running out for a while. Each gang has its own munitions stocked in its HQ. Any gang that doesn’t, won’t last long.”
“HQs?”
“They’re all close to each other, actually. Five of the six of the gangs are set up in the hotels and casinos along the Strip. Only one, the Reds, live outside city limits. They control most of the outskirts. Horrible place to be these days. The Reds have no walls, but they do have the most people. A lot of people live out there, in the slums. The Reds rule over them.”
“Seems like a dangerous place to be,” Anna said.
“You have to be a gang member, or good with one of the gangs, to be let inside city limits. If you aren’t, you join the Reds and hope they give you a job that’s better than slave. They have their own farms, and are seen as a threat by the city gangs. They’ve been upsetting the normal balance in the last year. Since farm space is so limited, the rest of the gangs work together to grow food out on what’s left of Lake Mead.”
We made it to the gates. Michael called upward.
“You going to let us in, or what?”
The man on the right-hand turret spoke. “Hold your horses, Sanchez. You’re still not cleared with Boss Dragon. You were told to come alone.”
“Maybe so,” Michael said. “But I have two members of the Lost Angels, who will explain why they’re here much better than I could.”
“If they give up their weapons, then maybe. Let me call HQ.”
The man turned his back and talked on his radio. While the guard was talking, I decided to use the opportunity to ask Michael more questions.
“I guess this place has slaves, too?”
Michael nodded. “Unfortunately, yeah. They are kind of a necessity. Without anyone to grow food, no one can survive. I mean, most everyone who doesn’t fight has to work the farms, like my wife and kid. But the slaves get the most backbreaking labor.”
“And where do you guys grow food? You mentioned Lake Mead, but that looked all dried up by now. Plus, it’s really far away.”
“A lot of water actually survived in Lake Mead, but not on the surface. We use drills to tap underground reserves That water is used to grow crops, and a lot of it is transported back to town using trucks.”
“Sounds like a lot of trouble,” I said.
“It is,” Michael said. “Especially these days. The crawlers come out at night, mostly, so there’s a constant stream of traffic going back and forth between Mead and Vegas during the day. All supply routes are heavily guarded, as are the farms. By this point, the gangs are so used to it that it’s hardly a second thought.”
“What about the Great Blight?” I asked. “It can’t be too far from the lake.”
Michael nodded. “It’s getting closer, expanding a few feet every single day. It’s already at the western edge of the lakebed, and it’s starting to cover the river.”
“So, you don’t use river water to drink?”
Michael shook his head. “No. I don’t touch that stuff. People who drink it get sick, even if they boil it thoroughly.”
The turret guard faced us again.
“Leave your weapons here,” he said. “You’re clear to go in.”
Slowly, the gate rolled back, revealing a long stretch of empty highway. In the far distance, skyscrapers rose, shadowy in the darkness. Vegas’s days of glitz and glamor were over. Somewhere distant, a crawler screamed in the night, reinforcing that this was now the new reality.
“Best to get inside,” Michael said.
When we passed the gates, a guard appeared to my left, holding out his hands for our weapons. With resignation, I gave the guard my Beretta, and Anna gave him her katana and handgun. He cleared his throat. I realized I hadn’t yet given him my knife. I handed it over, begrudgingly. I felt a lot less confident without both.
We walked past crumbling buildings, abandoned now for decades. In parking lots, metal shells of cars sat on the ground, stripped of tires and ornament. The rubble wall of Inner Vegas stretched around the city in a wide, haphazard circle. Beyond the highway lay the suburbs. After thirty years, the greater part had been swallowed by the desert. It was amazing what thirty years could do.
We talked little on the way. Michael told me that his wife, Lauren, and their daughter, Callie, were fine — such as fine was, these days. I’d only met Lauren once, a little bit before heading out on my first recon. She was a pretty, blonde woman, but I hadn’t spoken to her much. Bunker 108 was small enough that you could know everyone, but large enough so that you didn’t know everyone well. Lauren definitely fell into that second category. The fact that she had also survived was amazing news. Perhaps I would get the chance to meet Michael’s family soon.
Michael gripped his AR-15 tightly. The gun was old, but reliable, and its vast proliferation around the country, Pre-Ragnarok, made finding bullets and replacement parts easy even now. It was a gun I had used a lot for practice in Bunker 108, so I knew it well. It was the gun Samuel wanted me to use.
But it also reminded me too much of Bunker 108. Too much of my old life.
About fifteen minutes later, we turned off the highway onto Russell Road. The Strip was one block over, and the tall buildings rose into the sky, their tops obscured by darkness and dust. When we turned onto the Strip, dust swirled in eddies. On the median, hanging askew, was the sign: Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada. A few of the letters were missing; the faded sign was marred by graffiti, time, and dust. The median itself was empty — the trees that once grew there had long been cut to the ground, leaving vestiges of stumps like wooden graves. On our left was a wide, empty lot, in the middle of which lay the remains of a massive bonfire. On the right rose some newer buildings, towering above like some long-lost, glamorous vision of the future — from back when people dreamed of a future.
We walked on. Michael pointed to a complex of buildings on our left.
“Mandalay Bay,” he said. “Once a hotel and casino, now the Sworn HQ.”
“Where do the Dragons stay?” I asked.
“The MGM Grand,” Michael said. “It’s just a few blocks up.”
Without daylight, it was hard to see anything. But the buildings rose one after another, in their abstract, eye-catching shapes. It was hard to imagine just how many people there used to be. The wide walk that once bore tens of thousands of tourists was now emptied. As we passed Mandalay Bay, I noticed men with guns hanging out in front of the drive that led to the casino. They watched us pass in the night, ready for anything should we approach.
“The gangs mostly keep to themselves,” Michael said. “Especially at night.”
“It’s dangerous to be out here,” Anna said.
Michael nodded. “It is. But it’s always dangerous in Vegas. You can’t really help that.”
We passed an intersection, an enormous parking lot, and mangled signs and traffic lights. On our left was a gigantic pyramid, unseen at first because it was black.
“The Luxor,” Michael said. “The home of the Suns.”
In the next five minutes, we passed several more casinos. Michael said nothing about them. I had thought Vegas would be more like…well, a city. Nova Roma had been a city. Vegas was more like a series of fortresses. We passed castle after castle, each the home of a different lord, his soldiers guarding the gates against constant attack.
And maybe that’s what it was. As I walked down the abandoned strip, as the wind carried with it the dust of decay, I realized I was in a wilderness more than a city.
This impression of lords and castles solidified when we did pass a castle of sorts — the Excalibur Hotel Casino.
“The Kings’ lair,” Michael said. “We don’t much like them. It’s too bad that we’re neighbors.”
“Why don’t
you like them?”
“Their Boss, Rey, is trying to make a play for controlling the rest of the gangs. The Kings tie up all the trade, and they get more batts than any of the other gangs — Reds included. Rey is a businessman more than a gangster, but he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty if he needs to.”
Finally, on our right at the northeast corner of the intersection, was the MGM Grand — the Dragons’ HQ. I felt the Dragons would have done well to name themselves the Lions. A wide, empty fountain stood in front of the massive building. In the fountain, a golden lion stood. Torches lined the circular walk around the fountain, leading to the front entrance. There, a couple of guards stood, talking softly. They looked at us as we walked alongside the fountain, to the building’s front.
We paused before the doorway.
“Boss is inside,” one of the guards said, a tall, muscled black man. He looked at Anna and me. “Which of you is Makara?”
“She isn’t here,” Michael said. “She’s meeting with the Raiders. These are her representatives, Alex and Anna.”
The Dragon raised an eyebrow. “The Boss won’t like this, Michael.”
“The Boss can wait until tomorrow, James.”
The other Dragon stepped up, small of frame and white. “You better watch where your loyalties lie, Sanchez.”
“Relax, Daniel,” Michael said. “The Angels just got here an hour ago, and it’s already night. What did the Boss expect?”
James eyed Michael hard. “To have his orders followed to the letter.”
“I heard nothing about bringing Makara,” Michael said. “It was originally supposed to be just me.”
“Well, even if the one called Makara is not here,” James said, “we will lead you in. Good luck explaining it to the Boss.”
“Wait,” Daniel said.
He stared off into the darkness, onto the boulevard from which we had come. Someone was walking around the fountain, obviously having followed us.
“Who goes there?” James shouted. “Reveal yourself!”
The man did not stop, or even slow. In fact, he broke into a dead run. A horrible wail pierced the night air, making my skin crawl.
