by Jeff Olah
Reaching the main level, Ethan could hear their voices before he could see them. Griffin, Carly, and his mother sat around a blackjack table sharing stories as Frank stood on the opposite side, shuffling a deck of playing cards. They looked relaxed, and for the first time in days, happy.
Striding from the stairwell to the raised circular bar at the center of the floor, Ethan glanced at his friends and offered a smile and a nod. He leaned over the bar as his mother looked on, reached for a beer and a can opener, setting them both on the counter.
Without turning, he took a seat at the bar and stared at the frosted bottle. Before the world went to hell, this would have been a dream for him. A mostly stocked bar with more ways to forget himself than he could calculate. But today he didn’t care. He didn’t need it. He didn’t want it, and in fact, the thought of it now turned his stomach.
Turning away from the seventeen-ounce bottle, he leaned back in the stool and just listened to his friends. They’d gone back to their extremely lopsided game of blackjack and took turns giving Frank grief. Helen claimed that the man nearly her same age must have invented the game, while Griffin and Carly talked about stacked decks and card counting.
Ethan laughed under his breath before finally reaching for the bottle, leaning over the counter, and placing it back in the refrigerated cooler. Turning in his seat, he watched his friends interacting with one another for another few minutes, just enjoying the scene. Their smiles, their enthusiastic laughter, and the way they related to one another despite the torment that waited beyond the walls of their new home.
Leaving the bar, he pushed his stool back and walked the short distance to the blackjack table. Taking the seat alongside his mother, Ethan kissed her on the head and told her that he loved her. She responded in kind and then tossed her cards onto the table in front of Frank.
“Bust,” she said. “Again, I swear you’re cheating somehow.”
Ethan smiled and turned to Griffin and Carly. “Didn’t I tell you never to sit down at one of these tables with Frank? The man’s brain is like a computer.”
“Yeah,” Carly said, “I think he’s won every single hand.”
Sliding a stack of twenty-five dollar chips across the table, Griffin turned to Ethan and then to Frank. “All in.”
Frank laughed and shook his head. “Too bad this wasn’t real, I’d be walking out of this place a rich man.”
Ethan offered a short chuckle, but his mind had drifted and the others could see it. They’d begun to see the change in him the moment they all walked through the doors of the luxury hotel. And with each passing day, he was pulling further away from the group. His mother told them that it was just her son trying to find his place amongst the others and that he’d bounce back in due time.
He had heard the whispers, and as much as he wanted to set their minds at ease, he also didn’t want to give his friends a false sense of hope. He had something he needed to do, and although they meant well, they could never understand what he was dealing with.
“Mother,” Ethan said, motioning away from the table. “Can we talk?”
Ethan then stood and held out his arm. His mother wrapped hers in his and they walked back toward the main entrance. Finding their way into the lobby, Ethan slowed and turned to his mother. “How are you?”
“I’m,” she paused a moment and made sure to look into his eyes, “I’m okay.”
Ethan nodded. “I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t really know how to make this any better for you… for any of you.”
“Ethan, that isn’t your job and the others aren’t looking to you to make things better. I don’t even know if that’s possible anymore.”
“It is possible, but we need to work together, not take any chances.” Ethan let his arm drop and took her hand in his. “And I need you to promise me something.”
Furrowing her brow, his mother looked confused. “Promise you something?”
“I need you to promise me that you won’t do anything around here that puts you in danger. Shannon and Ben have this place locked down pretty tight, and as long as we don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be okay here for a while.”
“I understand Ethan, but…”
She didn’t have to finish. He knew what she wanted to say and also why she stopped herself.
“Emma,” he said.
“Yes, I’m sorry but I just can’t stop thinking about her out there all alone. What she must be going through, it’s just too much.”
He hadn’t told her about Emma’s most recent message. He hadn’t told anyone. It wasn’t something they needed to hear and it wouldn’t do anything for their morale. This was something that Ethan needed to handle without their help.
“Mother, Emma is okay. You will get to see her again; I promise you that.”
She smiled wide and wrapped her arms around Ethan. “Thank you, son; I love you.”
He squeezed her harder. “I love you too, Mom.”
Over his left shoulder, Griffin had given up on the card game and was now heading toward the restroom. He walked quickly, but made sure to get Ethan’s attention. “Hey boss man, you check the south side again? Any changes or are we looking for a new plan?”
Ethan kissed his mother on the forehead and turned to face Griffin. “No change, but we’ll figure something out.”
His mother let go of his hand and smiled. “I think I better follow Griffin.”
As she walked away, Ethan turned back toward the blackjack table at the edge of the casino. “Hey Frank…”
Without having to look at the deck he was shuffling, Frank tipped his head toward Ethan. “Yes sir?”
“Ben and Shannon, they still upstairs?”
“Last I knew.”
“Thanks.”
Moving back to the stairs, Ethan reached the control room—or at least that’s what Shannon kept calling it—within five minutes. Opening the door, Shannon still sat hunched over the same computer terminal, while Ben sat to her left, looking over her shoulder. They both turned and greeted him with the same devious smile.
Ben jumped out of his chair first. He’d been attempting to apologize to Ethan since they arrived at the hotel and hadn’t let up for one minute.
“Ethan, are we good?”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, we are good. Just bring it down a notch. Save your energy, you’re gonna need it.”
“Oh good. Did you find a way through that mess out there? Are we finally getting out of here?”
Shannon turned at Ben’s question.
“Ethan?”
Ethan shook his head. “Not yet, but I’m working on something.”
Shannon turned away from the terminal. “Okay?”
Laying his hand on Ben’s shoulder, Ethan let a wide grin slide across his face. “Ben, could you do me a huge favor and go find Griffin?”
Ben stared at Ethan for a moment, then looked back at Shannon and quickly back to Ethan again. “Oh… yeah, go find Griff. Got it.”
The kid was gone before he could thank him. And turning back to Shannon, Ethan’s face had changed. She could see it and before he could speak, she moved out of her chair.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing really, just wanted to check on the generators.”
That’s not what he wanted and although Shannon knew that, she played along. “We’ve only got maybe fifty percent still functioning.”
“What does that mean to us, how much more time before this place is completely in the dark?”
“I don’t know this system, but I’d say that maybe another week or two, maybe less, it’s hard to tell.”
“If we do lose power, what does that do to the entrances and exits?”
“I’m not too sure. But the doors at the back of the casino only open out, so we really don’t need to worry about those.”
“The front?”
“Ethan, I couldn’t get access to their entire system, and what I did find was mostly because of Ben.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah, we did. I just… I mean… never mind.”
“Really?” she said. “You came up here for a reason, and it wasn’t just to check on the generators. You’ve been acting weird since we got here.”
“Well, I just… I wanted to make sure that…”
Shannon stepped close to him and reached for his hand. “Talk to me, what is it?”
He hesitated. “I just want to be sure that this place is safe. It’s got to be.”
“It is safe, at least for as long as the power stays on.”
There was more he wanted to say, much more. But the time for that would come. At the moment, there was somewhere he needed to be. Pulling Shannon in close, he looked into her eyes and kissed her. She kissed him back and just as the moment began to take them, Ethan pulled away.
“Thank you.”
A shy smile started across her face, like a school girl that had just been kissed for the first time. “For what, the kiss? That one’s on the house, but from now on, it’s gonna cost you.”
He matched her smile and nodded. “Yes, for the kiss, and for everything else.” And before she had a chance to respond, he gently released her hand, backed to the door, and disappeared down the hall.
138
Day Thirteen…
The sun would be up in less than an hour, and as his friends dreamt of better days, Ethan stood at the door to suite two-eleven watching his mother sleep. He quietly walked to her bedside table, slipped the handwritten note under the edge of the book she’d been reading, and kissed her on the side of her head. He was now finished, he’d done what he come to do, and although he knew what came next, he was having a hard time walking away.
“I love you,” he said in a low whisper, before closing his eyes and allowing the image to remain.
Pausing a moment, he took in a slow breath, opened his eyes, and stepped back out into the hallway. With his right hand against the wall as a guide, he felt his way through the darkened corridor. Upon reaching the stairwell, he turned on a small handheld flashlight and made quick work of the two flights of stairs.
Out onto the main casino floor, Ethan gave the area a final look. He double checked each boarded entrance, walking the perimeter for anything he may have overlooked on his last trip through the area.
Moving to the main reception area, he slipped in behind the front desk and open the cabinet behind register number four. Pulling free the black bag he’d found within minutes of entering the building three days earlier, he set it atop the counter and pulled back the zipper.
Removing the contents and stashing the oversized duffle bag back under the desk, Ethan quickly slipped on the muted black body armor and strapped on the uncomfortably small helmet. These items didn’t completely ensure his safety, and they weren’t exactly fitted for his frame, but it was something. And right now, it was better than the alternative.
Moving back into the casino and heading for the rear of the building, he checked the two nine millimeter pistols he carried on his belt and the pockets along his vest for the three spare magazines. Now confident in his plan, he moved quickly to the door and the AK-47 he’d found yesterday while clearing the eleventh floor.
Gripping the semi-automatic rifle in his right hand, he pushed open the door that led to the rear parking structure, and looked out over the desolate landscape. The sun was at his back and still fighting to show itself above the eastern horizon, but now lit the path he was about to travel.
Stepping out and allowing the door to close behind him, Ethan prayed silently that his sister would still be there when he arrived.
End of Book Three
The Last Outbreak
Book Four
REVOLUTION
139
Day Thirteen...
Ethan Runner stopped at the center of the deserted intersection and wondered if he’d made a mistake, thought about returning to his friends. He’d walked away from the casino four hours earlier, but it felt like four days. His legs were tired, his back again ached, and looking out toward the interstate, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d even get the chance to see them again.
His trip across the abandoned city had been fairly uneventful. Moving off the Strip and away from the organized plotting of billion-dollar casinos, he’d decided that the residential streets along the western edge of Interstate Fifteen would be his best bet for avoiding the dead. He had only seen a handful of Feeders along the way, and by staying in the shadows, he was able to avoid any serious confrontations.
He continued to the right side of the street, slipped his backpack off his shoulders, and rolled his neck from one side to the other. Working the stiffness out of his aching body, he unzipped the pack and moved to a trio of abandoned vehicles that had been left to die in the middle-class Las Vegas neighborhood.
As he approached, a white minivan rested with its front passenger side tire turned into the curb. From three feet away, Ethan surveyed the interior and then moved to the driver’s door. He used his gloved right hand to wipe away a thick layer of dust from the window, before looking through the forgotten vehicle and out into the front yard of the home beyond.
He dropped his pack at his feet, pulled out a bottle of water and took a long drink, making a point of acting as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Scanning the street in both directions, he tossed the water bottle back into the pack, turned away from the driver’s window, and took a seat along the warming asphalt.
Breathing in slowly and deliberately, he closed his eyes and let his head drop back against the driver’s door. He had come to realize that over the last several minutes, he was being followed. Who it was, what they wanted, why they had yet to show themselves—those things were still a mystery.
But it really didn’t matter; whoever it was, whatever they wanted, they only had two choices. They could turn and walk away, go back to whatever rock they climbed out from under and hopefully live to see another day.
Or they could die.
Ethan had stopped taking chances the minute he walked out of his parents’ driveway back in Colorado. He was going to get to his sister and there wasn’t anything or anyone that was going to stop him. His newly adopted motto—at least until he reached Emma—was to shoot first and then decide if it was necessary later.
Ethan breathed out heavily and scanned the street to his right, watching as the slight breeze pushed a tumble weed through the front yard of the home three doors down. It rolled slowly at first and then once it reached the gradual incline of the driveway, picked up speed and carried out into the street.
He watched as it continued to the opposite side, kicked up the curb, and disappeared behind the last home on the left. For some reason, the unremarkable spectacle made him chuckle. Slowly over the last thirteen days, he’d forgotten what it was like to focus on something other than fighting for his life. But he also knew that letting his guard down—even for a single second—wasn’t a luxury he could afford.
And for all he knew, the person or persons still trailing him had moved out of the backyard and were now crossing the lawn as he watched the world around him moving without cause or reason. The same wind that had pushed the dried weed from one end of the block to the other could have also been masking the footfalls of those looking to do him harm.
Reaching for the AK-47 he’d grabbed from the eleventh floor of the casino, he used the barrel to adjust the driver’s side mirror. Craning his neck backward, he looked into the mirror, again watching the front yard of the single-story ranch style home.
His eyes moved from the fence that separated the rear and side yards, and then drifted back in the opposite direction, until he reached the area to his left and the street beyond.
Nothing.
Whoever it was must now know that Ethan was aware of their presence and had either dropped off or decided to come at him from another direction. He lowered the rifle into his shoulder and sat forward, dipping his head t
o the left and looking out past the rear driver’s side tire.
Again, nothing.
Ethan leaned back into the door and began slowly breathing in and out through his nose. He stared back in the direction he’d come and looked for anything he may have missed. Anything that was now hidden in the shadows. Anything that had skipped his mental checklist for this new world.
Anything at all.
Listening to only the sounds of the light breeze and the beating of his own heart, the lone Feeder that had stumbled out of a driveway eight houses away easily caught his attention. Normally, he wouldn’t have noticed this slight distraction; however, on this crisp winter morning, anything above a whisper would sound as though it was shouted from a bullhorn.
Right arm severed just below the elbow and its left leg obviously broken in more than one place, the former postal worker limped out into the street. Snarling as she made eye contact with Ethan, and attempting to increase her speed, she caught the foot she was dragging and fell face-first to the warming asphalt.
He grinned and shook his head as the petite female dragged herself forward, continuing to maintain eye contact while her guttural moans echoed from one end of the abandoned neighborhood to the other.
Ethan reached for his pack and sliding it over, noticed the former postal worker may not have been alone eight houses away.
First there were three, and then four, and with each passing second, another new beast lumbered out from behind the light-colored SUV parked in the driveway of the largest home on the street.
The next wave, a group of seven, plowed into a pair of blue recyclable waste trash cans that had somehow managed to stay upright and together for the last thirteen days. The first Feeder—a man wearing a blood speckled power suit—fell sideways over the plastic containers and sent the contents skipping out onto the street.
