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The wind was kicking up even harder than before and they walked slowly across the road, heading towards the raging fires and thick clouds of smoke on the eastern side of the Strip. The noise from the wind was loud enough that Rick didn’t hear the roar of engines at first, and when he did they were already halfway across the road and standing in between the tall palm trees and wide planters in the median.

“Get down!” The sound of the vehicles instantly reminded Rick of Los Angeles and he fell flat on the ground and crawled behind one of the planters. Jane followed his lead and they sat crouched on the grass, waiting to see the source of the noise.

The roar of a pair of diesel engines thrummed through the air and Jane peeked up over the planter. She broke out into a smile and turned to Rick, nearly shouting over the sound of the wind and engines. “It’s the army guys! The ones from the convoy! Look, it’s their trucks!”

Rick stood up next to Jane and squinted, desperately trying to confirm what she said. He could see a pair of Humvees slowly heading south down the Strip towards them, but the longer he looked at them the more his stomach began to twist.

“Come on!” Jane started to walk out from the median and into the road. “Let’s go get them to pick us up!”

“No!” Rick grabbed the canvas bag Jane was carrying on her shoulder and jerked her back, sending her tumbling to the ground. He crouched down next to her and hissed into her ear. “No, stay down!”

“What the hell, Rick?” Jane’s face was a mixture of confusion and anger.

“Those are the army Humvees, but they’re sure as hell not manned by soldiers in uniform!”

Rick and Jane raised their heads slightly above the planter and he pointed at the lead Humvee. “Look at the guy on the machine gun. He’s not wearing a uniform! And the driver doesn’t have one on either!”

Jane gulped loudly and sank back down behind the planter, sitting down on the grass and scooting as far away from the road as possible. “Who are they, then?”

Rick continued to watch the vehicles moving closer and shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re whoever was shooting at the bus when we flipped over. I sure as hell don’t like the look of them, though.”

As if on cue, the two Humvees picked up speed and raced down the road before skidding to a stop just in front of the restaurant that Rick and Jane were in only moments before. The pair scooted further behind the trees and planters in the median and Rick laid out on his stomach, watching the vehicles from behind a small gap in between one of the palm trees and one of the planters.

Two men jumped out of the lead Humvee and they were soon joined by three more from the other vehicle. The gunners stayed in their positions, slowly rotating the turrets around as they scanned the road. The five men standing near their vehicles all carried rifles of various types and calibers and each had a bandanna wrapped around their faces and wore thick plastic goggles and hats to shield their eyes and heads.

“Let’s check this place out, then head to the Bellagio! Maybe they left the vault door open!” The voice came from one of the three men who hopped out of the second vehicle.

“You idiot.” Another man punched the first one in the arm and pointed at the smoldering ruins of the Bellagio hotel. “Do you really think we can get down into the basement? I told you the Strip was a waste of time. We need to stick to the smaller hotels, not these ones! The earthquake tore these apart!”

Earthquake? Rick frowned. What earthquake are they talking about?

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. Let’s find some food then we’ll head out aga

in. How about you two check down the road a block and let us know what you find down in the steakhouse. We’ll look here and meet up with you.”

“Fine.”

Rick stiffened as the five men split up, with two of them walking farther south down the road on foot while the first three went into the restaurant. With the way the two men walking south were going, it was only a matter of time before they were able to see Rick and Jane lying in the median.

Great, he thought. What the hell are we supposed to do now?


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Tags: Mike Kraus Surviving the Fall Science Fiction