Lights Out In Vegas (Book 4): Line of Fire

by Patten, Sean

I stopped in my tracks. Steve and Kelly made it a few feet before they realized what I’d done.

  “What is it, Justin?” asked Kelly, turning towards me. “Something wrong?”

  “That speech,” I said.

  “Wasn’t a speech,” said Steve. “Just saying what I feel.”

  I shook my head, a small smile on my face.

  “No,” I said. “I mean, you might feel that, but those aren’t your words.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Steve asked.

  “Dad,” I said. “That was part of his big spiel about the, you know, glory of the military.”

  The confusion disappeared, replaced with total understanding.

  “Oh my God,” Steve said. “How could I have forgotten that? Every damn time we’d watch one of those old green-beret movies together, he’d get all misty-eyed and go in that same speech.”

  “And it’s what he said to you when you told him you signed up,” I said. “He got all proud and went into it like you’d never heard it before.”

  “I let him run with it,” Steve said with a smile. “You know, let the old man have his moment.”

  Without thinking, my hand went to my back pocket, having placed the medal there when I’d changed into the fatigues.

  “And it’s probably what he would’ve said to me if I’d actually managed to get in,” I said.

  A beat of silence passed.

  “Well,” said Kelly. “I know I didn’t know your father the way you two did, but I bet you anything he’d see you both here in that uniform and be proud as hell.”

  That, I couldn’t say for sure. Sure, I was wearing the uniform, but had I done anything to be proud of? Hell, I’d played a role in a coup that overthrew the rightful commander of Esperanza. And now I was looking for a car to steal so I could…what? Turn tail and run? Leave all those people in the hands of that psycho?

  Maybe Dad would think I was an imposter, someone who’d conned his way into wearing the uniform and disgraced it with every moment it was on my body. Maybe he’d see right through me.

  No point in thinking too hard about it. Dad was gone.

  We finally arrived at the gate. There wasn’t any security to stop us, so one by one we slipped through. Moments later we were all on the other side, a winding road in front of us that disappeared into the distance, massive estates on both sides.

  “Holy hell,” said Steve as we continued on. “Look at the size of these places.”

  “And look at the sizes of their lawns,” said Kelly. “Imagine the cost of watering these spreads in the middle of a Nevada summer.”

  They were both right. And the sun was already taking its toll on the grass in front of the houses, brown patches appearing in the faded green.

  “Okay,” said Steve. “What’s the plan?”

  “You know what,” said Kelly. “I bet more than a few of these places have some classic cars in those big garages of theirs.”

  Steve nodded, getting what she was saying.

  “You’re probably right about that,” he said. “Swipe a ’62 Jaguar SKE and head back to Esperanza like total badasses.”

  Steve was still set on the plan of going back to the camp. Not even getting into the idea that we wouldn’t make it past the first ring of the wastelands before that car had been stripped down to nothing, I still wasn’t sold on going back there.

  What did Steve have in mind? Confront Mason? Ask him to explain himself? Who’s to say he wouldn’t have a bullet in his head before he’d even finished his question? I’d seen up close and personal just how Mason dealt with men who refused to fall in line.

  “Okay,” said Steve. “Which house?”

  “Good question,” said Kelly. “Because any one we pick could be abandoned…”

  “Or it could be a fortress where some rich asshole with plenty of guns is holed up just waiting for someone to try something,” I said.

  “Nothing to do but hope for the best,” said Steve.

  Seemingly at random, he picked a house with a stone fence, the massive three-story estate situated on a small hill.

  “There,” he said.

  “Why that one?” I asked.

  “I dunno,” he said with a small smile. “Just got a good feeling.”

  Moments later we were in front of the stone fence, Steve and I boosting Kelly up before we followed, rolling over the top and landing lightly on the front lawn.

  My gut tightened as we stepped closer to the imposing mansion.

  Here goes nothing, I thought.

  Chapter 23

  Steve cupped his hands to his mouth and called out.

  “Hello? Anyone home?”

  “Steve!” Kelly hissed, giving him a quick jab to the arm. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Seeing if anyone’s home,” he said, rubbing the spot on his arm where she’d punched him. “I mean, if someone’s here with a gun they’d probably give us a warning first, right?”

  “Or they’re loading their gun right now and getting ready to shoot,” she said right back.

  “We’re with the military!” Steve called out. “Not here to hurt you!”

  “Steve,” I said. “Come on now.”

  I turned towards back to the Strip, the height of the small hill giving me a clear view of the city, the sky a brilliant purple as the sun set in the west.

  “Hell of a view,” I said. “Guess that’s what they pay the big bucks for.”

  A crash cut through the peaceful moment and I turned to see that Steve had shoved a rock from the nearby garden in through the small window next to the door. He used the rock to clear away the remaining glass before reaching in and unlocking the door.

  “Okay,” he said, turning back to face us. “We ready to do this?”

  “Ready as I’m gonna be,” I said.

  “Same,” said Kelly.

  Steve was ready to step in front of the door, but I beat him to it.

  “You did the dirty work,” I said. “Let me do the honors.”

  “Works for me,” he said.

  With a steeling breath, I took hold of the ornate gold doorknob and gave it a twist. I couldn’t help but whistle lowly at what I saw as the door swung open.

  The place was a damn palace. Black-and-white tiled floors, a spiral staircase with gold railing, and enough sculptures to make a museum jealous.

  “Nice pad,” I said, more to myself than anything.

  “Hell-o!” called out Steve.

  “Do you need to keep doing that?” I asked.

  “Just figured it’d be fair to give them one more warning,” he said. “I mean we are armed. Might take us coming in like this the wrong way.”

  “As opposed to the right way,” I said.

  He shrugged and we continued on. Together, we checked the place out, going well-appointed room by well-appointed room, but finding nothing. And the place was clean, too—no one had come in to ransack the joint. No one until us, at least.

  Next was the second floor. We checked half a dozen bedrooms, again finding nothing. At least, until we reached the study.

  “Hey,” said Steve. “Check this out.”

  He was standing in front of a picture on the wall, one I couldn’t quite make out from across the vast study. I hurried over to him to check it out.

  It was a picture of a man in his sixties, bald with a silver ring of hair around his head, his eyes hidden behind wraparound shades and the polo shirt he wore stretched by a big belly, standing next to a jet-black vintage sports car. Around the picture were several more like it, but smaller—all with the same guy, standing next to one flashy sports car or another.

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Steve.

  “Yeah,” said Kelly, stepped up to our sides. “If this is the guy who lives here, it looks like he’s got a hell of a car collection in his garage.”

  “Great,” I said. “But I bet you anything the garage is locked up.”

  “Then we bust in,” said Steve.

 
“Let’s check the rest of the place out first,” I said. “See if we can find some keys.”

  I didn’t voice it to the others, but I had the urge to see the rest of the place, to find out what happened to the man who lived here.

  We headed up to the third floor, which was just as empty as the other two. At least, until we reached the master bedroom.

  “Shit” said Kelly. “Look.”

  At first I wasn’t sure what she was referring to—aside from the sheer size of the place, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about the bedroom.

  The balcony, however, was a different story. From where we stood I could see the outline of a figured seated out there, still as a stone. The form was familiar by now, with a round midsection and a ring of silver hair around an otherwise bald head.

  “Holy shit,” said Steve. “That’s him!”

  “What do we do?” asked Kelly. “What if he sees us?”

  My eyes tracked down to man’s left hand, which hung loosely down.

  “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue,” I said. “Come on.”

  I stared off across the bedroom.

  “Justin!” Kelly hissed. “What are you doing?”

  “Wait there,” I said, hearing Steve’s steps behind me.

  I heard Kelly make a frustrated noise, one that seemed to say “I don’t like this, but I’m coming with you anyway.” Her footsteps soon followed behind mine and Steve’s.

  I reached the door to the balcony on pulled it open.

  The smell made it abundantly clear that the man wasn’t going to be objecting to our being in his house.

  “Oh, fuck,” said Steve as we stepped outside.

  My eyes on the man, I made a slow loop around until I was standing in front of him. Sure enough, seated in front of me, his eyes hidden behind those same wraparound shades, was the man from the pictures.

  He was a couple of days dead, his skin clammy and bloodless. He was dressed in nothing but a soft, expensive-looking robe, a pair of silk boxer-briefs on underneath. On the small side table next to the chair was a bottle of scotch, along with an empty orange pill container.

  “Pills and booze,” Steve said. “Probably not a bad way to go, considering.”

  He turned, facing the sweeping view towards the Vegas downtown that was visible from the balcony.

  “I can’t imagine any way’s a good way to go,” said Kelly. “Why would he do it? The guy could’ve held up in here for a while. Bet he’s got plenty of supplies and weapons and…I don’t know…”

  She trailed off, and I could sense that what she was seeing was having a major effect on her.

  “Maybe he could’ve,” I said. “And maybe it was just him, alone up here in this giant mansion with no one else. Sure, you could stay safe for a while, but…then what?”

  “Yeah,” said Steve. “I guess he figure that his mansion wasn’t going to be enough to keep him alive, you know?”

  “Or,” I said. “He just decided to take the edge off with some pills and good booze and didn’t know when to say when.”

  “Or that,” Steve conceded.

  Before any of us could say anything else, I caught sight of something in the man’s pocket. I squatted down to see that it was, like I’d hoped, a keychain. I snatched it out and gave it a look, a dozen or so keys packed tightly around the ring.

  “Shit,” said Steve. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “It just might be,” I said. “Let’s quit screwing around and go find out.”

  Keys in hand, I took one last look at the body before the three of us left the patio and headed back downstairs. Once on the main floor we entered the enormous kitchen, where a door that appeared to lead into the garage was there, locked up tight. I went through the keys, trying them one by one.

  “Why the hell does this guy have his own garage locked up?” asked Steve.

  “Maybe because of people who might do what we’re trying to do right now,” Kelly said.

  “Good point,” said Steve.

  The second to last key worked and the lock was undone.

  “Yes!” said Steve.

  Just as I’d hoped, the door led into a massive garage filled with a dozen sports cars, all looking flawless eve in the low light of the space. At the front of the garage was a large pegboard, a key for each car hanging.

  I didn’t even need to take the time to decide—Steve had already grabbed his choice from the wall and hurried over to the sleek vintage sports car that we’d seen in the pictures.

  “Bet he’d like it this way,” said Steve. “Taking his prize ride out for one last spin.”

  “Sure,” said Kelly. “Aside from the whole ‘grand theft auto’ thing.”

  After pulling open the garage door we hurried over the car and climbed in, Steve taking the driver’s seat.

  “Okay,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

  He turned the key and engine roared to life.

  Steve let out a whoop. “Car works and a full tank of gas,” he said. “Not bad!”

  With that, he pulled out of the garage and back towards the main road, another key on the ring allowing us to manually open the gate.

  Soon after we were headed out of Vegas, and I hoped more than anything it would be the last time I’d leave this city.

  Chapter 24

  “Stop the car.”

  Steve glanced over at me, a look of confusion on his face.

  “Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  We were out of Vegas, on one of the lonely, abandoned highways that led east of the city.

  Steve did as I asked, pulling the car over and coming to a stop on the side of the road. The engine purred, the car vibrating slightly.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “We need to figure out what the hell we’re going to do next,” I said. “And we need to decide before we drive even another mile.”

  Silence fell over the car. All three of us seemed to understand what a difficult conversation this was going to be.

  “We’re going back to Esperanza,” said Steve, not wavering from his previous decision.

  “Steve…” I started.

  “Justin,” he said, cutting me off. “There’s nothing more left to be said. I’ve made how I feel clear.”

  “You know that we could be walking to our deaths, right?” I said. “What makes you think that Mason won’t just stop us at the front gates and take us out back behind the nearest shed?”

  “Because I know him,” he said. “And I know that he’ll at least take the chance to explain himself.”

  “But we know him, too,” said Kelly. “And we’ve seen what kind of ruthlessness he’s capable of.”

  Steve shook his head.

  “He has to have an explanation,” he said, repeating the same thing he’d been telling us over the last few hours. The more he said it, the more I got the impression that he was telling himself more than anyone else, trying to convince himself of something that he knew wasn’t true.

  “Listen,” he said as he gripped the steering wheel and fixed his eyes on the road ahead. “You two have made how you feel more than clear. And…and I get it. But this is something I have to do.”

  “But you don’t have to,” said Kelly. “We’re in a car, we’ve got a full tank of gas, and no one is making us do anything.”

  “Right,” I said. “We can drive to New Mexico and forget about all this. Leave this damn city behind and never look back.”

  But my brother kept his gaze fixed forward, and I knew that neither of our words were having any effect. Part of me got it; it wasn’t a small thing to realize someone you’d admired wasn’t the person you thought he was.

  “You both are right,” Steve said. “No one in this car is being forced to do anything. And that includes you both coming with me. If you want to leave, I’ll get it. Just drop me off near the camp and go.”

  “You’re out of your mind, Steve,” I said. “Like hell am I going to leave you on your own.”<
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  “We’re still here because of you,” Kelly added. “You’re crazy if you think we’re not going to be behind you every step of the way.”

  Steve finally turned his head, glancing at me, and then at Kelly.

  “I just…I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me.”

  I reached over and put my hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

  “We’re in this together,” I said. “Until the end.”

  He nodded slowly in understanding.

  “And all those people,” he said. “Crazy as it sounds, I feel like I’d be abandoning them too.”

  “I get it,” I said. “Whatever’s happening back at the camp, it’s because of something that we helped do. It feels like we need to see this through.”

  Silence fell for a long moment.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s do this.”

  After he gunned the engine and pulled us back onto the main road, Steve glanced over at me, a warm smile on his face, one that suggested that though we were about to go headlong into some serious danger, he was glad to have his brother at his side.

  And I felt the same way.

  After about twenty minutes of driving, I began to spot the signs for Lake Mead, letting us know the turnoff was soon.

  “The car,” I said, tapping the center console. “We need to find somewhere to hide it.”

  “Good call,” said Steve.

  He took a few moments, appearing to think it over.

  “There’s this warehouse outside of the camp grounds, something for the park where they kept some maintenance trucks or whatever they were. I helped some of the troops clear the place out, and it’s empty now, as far as I know.”

  “Good place to hide the car?” asked Kelly.

  “Perfect, actually,” said Steve. “Only thing is that it’s a hike from the camp.”

  “Not into a huge walk,” I said. “But at least that means no one from the wastelands will see it.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping,” said Steve. “We drive up while it’s dark out, park the thing, and walk. Only issue is that we’re going to have to walk right through the worst parts of the camp.”

  “Not like we have any other options,” said Kelly. “Unless you guys want to pull this thing right up to the front gates.”