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

by Patten, Sean

  “So you murdered them out of what,” asked Kelly. “Some sense of altruism?”

  “Out of a sense of understanding the bigger picture,” Mason said flatly.

  “But the supplies,” I said. “You cut off the wastelands from camp supplies. If you’re so concerned about saving as many lives as you can, why do something like that?”

  “My, my,” said Mason. “Aren’t we all informed.”

  He shook his head and went on.

  “The situation at Esperanza is dire, but none of you need me to tell you that. The last estimates of the camp population, including the wastelands, are at around three hundred thousand. Can you imagine? And there’s more to come. Because of that fool Lambert’s insistence that the camp remain open to all, word is spreading around Nevada that Esperanza is a safe haven, and people are only learning the truth of the situation once they get here. By then it’s too late—what else are they going to do other than add to the masses around us?”

  “So you’re killing them,” I said.

  He shook his head.

  “I’m culling the herd,” he responded. “When I took this position I knew damn well that it was going to involve some difficult decisions—decisions that Lambert was either unwilling or incapable of making.”

  He gestured to the front of the tent, to the world outside its walls.

  “You three are intelligent people,” he said. “You don’t need me to tell you that the situation out here is untenable. Stemming the flow of refugees was only the first step. The next is determining who among those refugees is fit and worthy of seeing the next stage of my plans for Esperanza.”

  “‘Seeing’,” I scoffed. “You mean ‘living to see’.”

  He nodded.

  “Those in the wastelands are on their own, as of today,” he said. “There’s food to be found and supplies to be gathered in Vegas. Those among them who are strong and fit enough to live in this new world will do whatever it takes to keep surviving. And those that won’t…”

  “You’re going to let them die,” Kelly finished, her tone ice-cold.

  “Nature is going to take its course,” Mason said coolly, back to his faithful euphemisms. “And when months have gone by and the population is a more…manageable size, we can begin to think about making Esperanza the true beacon of hope it’s meant to be. After all, the ones still living will be the ones most determined to live to see another day.”

  “You’re playing God!” I spat. “Deciding for yourself who’s worthy of living and who isn’t.”

  Mason shook his head, a smile on his face.

  “You couldn’t be further from the truth,” he said. “It was Lambert—who thought he could save everyone, give shelter to all—who was playing God. Me, I’m the one who’s, well, letting God sort them out, as they say.”

  “You’re sick,” said Kelly. “A murderer.”

  “And what would you have me do?” Mason asked. “Feed and feed whoever comes, let the numbers here grow to five hundred thousand? A million?”

  He shook his head. “No. Hard decisions had to be made. Order will be restored. The blood of the generals is on my hands, and if I’m damned for that, then so be it. Their lives had to be taken so that others could live.”

  Generals. The plural rang in my mind.

  “Lambert,” I said. “Donahue said he hadn’t seen him. You didn’t send him off to Vegas, you—”

  “If you’re asking if I killed him,” Mason cut in, “you’re right. Lambert was dead and buried within an hour of me taking command. He was simply too dangerous to let live, and while I stand by my decision, it’s information that the rest of the men didn’t need to know about.”

  I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Steve and I had played no small role in taking the life of Lambert. I might not have been the one to pull the trigger, but I was still responsible. We all were.

  “You’re in this with me,” said Mason. “You were part of the coup. In for a penny, in for a pound, you know?”

  He cleared his throat. “I have big plans for Esperanza. The sad reality is that the United States government is either defunct or in no position to do a damn thing about a remote city like Las Vegas. I’ve taken charge, and I’m going to do whatever needs to be done to make this camp the capital of a new Nevada. Ten years from now Esperanza will be a city of hope and progress.

  “And it’s not too late for you three,” he went on. “It’s true that you know too much, and I would have a good mind to dispatch you in the same way I have other troublemakers in this camp. But you three are smart, and resourceful, and would be good assets to have at my side in the coming months and years. There could be places for you here at Esperanza, perhaps even ones of power and luxury. So, what do you say?”

  His words rang in my mind, and I still couldn’t believe everything that I’d heard. Mason had just confessed to murder, and now he was wanting us to play a role in even more death? I couldn’t even think about how I wanted to express just what I felt about it.

  Thankfully, Kelly had found words where they’d failed me.

  “Fuck you,” she said. “You’re a maniac.”

  Chapter 27

  I didn’t think it was possible for Mason’s expression to become any more severe, but Kelly’s words did the job.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “You’re a fucking maniac,” she said. “Especially if you think any of us want a part in your bullshit plan.”

  Mason turned to me, and then Steve.

  “Gentlemen,” he asked. “Does the lady speak for all of you?”

  “She does,” I said. “Not a chance in hell I work with you.”

  I turned anxiously to regard Steve. In spite of so much evidence, he’d so far denied Mason’s crimes, believing there was a rational explanation for his actions. Was he going to stick with us?

  “She does,” he said.

  I smiled so hard it hurt.

  “I came here for answers,” Steve went on. “And to hear from the man himself why he’d done the things he had. And that’s just what I got. So, my answer is an enthusiastic ‘hell no.’”

  Mason crossing his arms over his stout chest and shook his head sadly.

  “That’s a damn shame,” he said. “I sincerely thought that you three had vision. Oh well.”

  He tilted up his head.

  “Guards!” he shouted.

  Within seconds four soldiers poured into the room, forming up on our flanks.

  Shit, I thought. Fucker’s going to have us dead in the dirt if we don’t think of something.

  Mason held up his hand as the soldiers fell into place.

  “Sir,” said one of them. “Should I take them in for processing?”

  Something told me that “processing” was another one of Mason’s charming little euphemisms. Probably meant less of the paperwork Lambert had become known for and more likely a quick execution and a shallow grave.

  “Not just yet,” said Mason, raising his palm. “Get them all seated.”

  The soldiers grabbed us by the wrists and forced the three of us down into a trio of folding chairs. My mind raced as I tried to figure out some way to get out of this mess.

  Mason pointed to Steve.

  “Bring him here,” he said, pointing to the area just in front of him.

  The guards complied, grabbing the chair and dragging it over to the center of the room while keeping Steve shoved down into it.

  I did a quick inventory of the guards. They were armed and they didn’t look like they were screwing around. And like I’d noticed before, they were all part of the team who’d taken down Donahue and his men—Mason’s inner circle.

  “You know,” said Mason, his hand on his chin. “If there’s one thing I just can’t stand, it’s disloyalty.”

  “That right?” asked Steve. “Big words for someone who pulled a fucking coup.”

  Mason shook his head as if disappointed.

  “Wow,” he said. “You’re really a smaller
thinker than I gave you credit for, soldier. Let me tell you a little something about loyalty; when I took my oath, when I swore to defend my nation against all enemies, foreign and domestic, I meant every last damned word of what I said. My loyalties are to my nation above all, and I’ll do whatever it takes to defend her.”

  “Like kill your commanding officer, and let thousands of civilians die?” I asked.

  “Lambert is gone because he needed to be,” Mason said. “And the civilians that die, God rest their souls, will leave behind the new stock of this great American nation. People who are strong enough to fight, survive, and rebuild. And what they rebuild, under my leadership, will be a rebirth of the most powerful country this world has ever known.”

  He kept his eyes fixed on Steve as he continued.

  “So when I say that I’m loyal, I’m loyal to a greater America than you can imagine. And if I need to remove some incompetent commanders who don’t share my vision, then by God I’ll do it, and I’ll do it again.”

  “You’re sick,” Kelly snarled.

  Mason didn’t even acknowledge her.

  “These men here,” he said, gesturing to the guards. “These men know the value of loyalty. They share my vision. And when our nation is reborn within the gates of this camp, they’ll know in their hearts that they helped bring it about.”

  “That’s not what being a soldier is about,” I said.

  Mason cocked his head to the side.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Being a soldier isn’t about blindly obeying orders,” I said. “It’s about protecting the weak and the innocent. Soldier aren’t machines; they are fathers and sons, mothers and daughters.”

  Right as I finished speaking I realized what I was doing—I was repeating the speech that my father had given to Steve and I.

  Steve regarded me with a knowing smile.

  “That’s right,” he said. “Soldiers aren’t just bound to orders—they’re bound to what’s right. And each and each every one of you assholes in this room is about the sorriest soldier I’ve ever seen.”

  It was strange. I was scared as hell, with no way to know if was going to survive the next hour, let alone the night. But there, with my brother by my side, my father’s medal in my pocket, knowing I was doing the right thing…I felt like the soldier he’d always hoped I’d be.

  “You’re wrong,” said Mason. “My men are good men, men who know the value of making hard decisions. Men who I can trust.”

  He raised an accusing finger to Steve.

  “Unlike you,” he said, standing up from the edge of the desk and stepping towards Steve until he loomed over him. “I gave you that trust. I let you into a very, very small circle—you and your brother. And you repay me with disloyalty.”

  I struggled against the grips of the guards, but it did me no good.

  Then Mason formed his hand into a tight fist, pulled it back, and drove it hard into Steve’s stomach. The sound of the air rushing out of Steve would’ve brought me to my feet, had I not been held down.

  “Steve!” Kelly screamed.

  Steve leaned forward and struggled for breath, the air knocked out of him. He coughed and sputtered, desperately trying to suck air into his lungs.

  “You fucking asshole!” I shouted.

  Mason gave me a glance that was almost playful.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll be next.”

  Then he turned his attention to Kelly.

  “I don’t believe in hitting women,” he said. “But I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with a fitting punishment for your disloyalty.”

  Then his eyes were back on Steve.

  “Traitorous piece of shit!” he barked before driving his fist into Steve’s face.

  Steve’s head snapped back from the impact, blood spurting from his nose, dripping onto his military fatigues.

  Mason shook his hand, working through the pain of the punch.

  “A bullet’s too good for you,” he said, panting slightly. “A bullet’s how a soldier dies in battle. And I don’t give a damn about your little speech—you don’t know the first thing about being a soldier.”

  He drove his fist into Steve again, and then again, more blood seeping out of his mouth and nose.

  Rage flooded through me, unspeakable, burning rage. I had to do something.

  Then my eyes landed on something—something on Lambert’s desk.

  The grenade.

  It was dud, I knew, but did Mason know that? It was worth a shot, and there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to sit there and watch that prick hurt my brother any longer.

  I focused the anger, bursting from my seat and overpowering the soldiers long enough to rush the desk. By the time anyone had chance to react, I had the grenade in my hands and above my head, a finger slipped through the pin.

  Every pair of eyes in the room was on me.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Mason growled.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen,” I said. “You’re going to let the three of us go. No bullshit, no fucking around. You’re going to kill us anyway, so don’t think I’ve got any problem taking you pricks with me.”

  Mason’s eyes were tight with controlled fury. For a moment, I worried that he knew the grenade was a dud, that the plan would end right then and there with him laughing before taking his sidearm out and dropping me on the spot.

  “Drop that thing right now,” he said. “Or so help me…”

  “No negotiations,” I said. “Let us go now, or I pull. And my finger’s in here good and tight—if any one of you assholes wants to try to take a shot, roll the dice, see if I pull the pin on the way down.”

  Mason appeared ready to explode with rage. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he burst from where he stood, running towards me.

  Everything next seemed to happen in slow motion. Mason started towards me, but before he could even take two steps Steve took advantage of the confusion, reaching for the pistol in the nearest soldier’s hand, wrestling it out, and taking aim.

  Three shots sounded from the gun. And everything froze.

  At first I wasn’t sure what had happened. But then I saw the expression of shock on Mason’s face, followed by the spread of three bloodstains on his olive-colored shirt.

  And then he dropped.

  “Holy shit,” said one of the troops. “Holy fucking shit!”

  I turned to Steve and Kelly, knowing that we weren’t going to get another chance like this.

  “Move, now!”

  I didn’t even think to drop the grenade. The soldiers ran towards Mason and the three of us took off in the opposite direction, running towards the entrance to the tent. Steve tucked the gun into his holster and we were off, breaking out into a full sprint and getting the hell out of the command area as quickly as possible. Troops passed us in a hurry, apparently more concerned with finding the source of the gunshots than stopping us.

  I spotted one of the gas-powered golf carts that had begun popping up around the site, unable to believe our luck when I saw that the keys were still in the ignition. We hopped into the thing and I took off towards Main Street.

  As I drove I couldn’t help but notice that the road was actually…cleaner. No refugees laid in the road, and further down I could see that the rows of tents were orderly and lacking in the chaos and disorder that had been a constant while Kelly and I had stayed there. The wastelands were still a mess, but Mason’s day of command had brought a certain amount of order to the main camp grounds. As to what he’d done to ensure that…

  The scene at the main gate snapped my thoughts back into focus.

  “Holy shit,” said Steve. “Looks like a riot’s about to break out.”

  He was right. The refugees in the wastelands surged towards the entrance, a roar sounding from them as they shouted their demands for food and shelter and medicine. The troops held the line, but it was clear that things were about to get bad.

  “They’re dis
tracted,” said Kelly.

  “Perfect,” I said.

  I parked the cart and we climbed out. Moments later we were at the gate, the refugees now hurling stones and bottles and whatever else they could at the soldiers.

  “Hurry, hurry,” I said, sensing that the scene was right at the brink.

  We slipped past the soldiers, whose attention was entirely focused on the crowd ahead. Soon we were among the refugees, then into the wastes. But the moment we passed through the crowd, the pop of gunfire sounded out.

  It was happening. Esperanza was about to fall.

  We broke out into a run, passing the hordes of refugees all making their way to the gates, not slowing down as we made our way through the wastelands.

  And then when we finally reached the desert, we all stopped in our tracks.

  We were alive.

  Chapter 28

  May 19; 05:00

  Dawn broke over the desert as we arrived at the garage, exhausted and breathing hard.

  The last bit of energy drained out of me the moment I put my hands onto the door panel to bring it up, the night having taken every I had.

  More than that, part of me was scared to raise the garage. The entire journey back I’d been gripped by the worry someone might’ve come and taken the car. What we’d do if it wasn’t there, I had no idea.

  “You okay over there, bro?” asked Steve.

  I turned and he was behind me, his face still a mess from what Mason had done to him.

  “Yeah,” I said “Just catching my second wind.”

  I knew that no matter how worn out I was, Steve had to be feeling ten times as worse.

  “Come on, big guy,” said Kelly, slipping her arm around Steve’s shoulders to help keep him steady.

  “Careful now,” he said, wincing slightly at the contact. “You’re stronger than you look.”

  No kidding. Both of them were.

  After taking one last breath I pushed up the garage door.

  “Oh, thank God,” I said, laying eyes on the car.

  “Would it be a really bad joke to say that I left the keys back at the camp?” asked Steve.