Fighting Chance - A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller (Lights Out in Vegas Book 3) Read online

  Fighting Chance

  Sean Patten

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Copyright 2019 by Sean Patten

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.

  All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  May 9, 2020: 20:00 Pacific Time

  It was like something out of a nightmare.

  Everything up to that point had seemed like a horrible dream. But this was a pinnacle, a crescendo, a peak of horror and shock that I couldn’t have possibly imagined. Up on stage, an expression of total horror painted on her face, was Kelly, the woman I’d loved, the woman I’d thought I’d lost forever.

  And with the turn of the wheel, I might very well be there for her death.

  I shot up out of my seat and tried to rush the stage. But before I could even make it to the end of the aisle, one of the massive, suited guards was on top of me, his enormous palm pressed hard against my chest.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

  Part of me wanted to blurt it all out, to tell him who the woman on the stage was. But I realized just in time that it wouldn’t do either of us a damn bit of good. If the staff of the Troika was willing to play a game like this, a game where lives were on the line for the amusement of the drunken masses, there wasn’t a chance in hell that they’d have any sympathy for my situation.

  Another part of me wanted to say “fuck it” and drive a left hook right into this asshole’s face. But I understood, even in my frantic state, that this wouldn’t get me anything other than a round between the eyes. If I was lucky.

  “Uh, just had to take a leak,” I said, raising my voice over the roar of the crowd.

  “Hold it until after the show,” the guard growled, clearly understanding that something was off about my behavior.

  It was a warning, and I took it as such.

  “Sure,” I said, stepping back from him and hurrying to my seat.

  One I was seated again, my eyes locked back onto the stage.

  It was her. It was Kelly.

  The women I’d thought was dead was there in front of me, and there was nothing I could do.

  “Where did you go?” asked the man next to me, his eager eyes on the stage as he spoke. “You’re about to miss the good shit!”

  I said nothing, instead digging my nails into the armrest of the seat.

  “Damn,” he said. “She’s hot.”

  I wanted to sock him clean across the jaw for a comment like that, but held back.

  The MC strolled out to the center of the stage, a big, showy smile on his face.

  “One last contestant,” he said, his clear voice spreading out like knife-spread honey over the crowd. “One last chance to see some real excitement!”

  The crowd let out a roar, all of them eager for what was next.

  He stepped over to Kelly and held the microphone in front of her face.

  “You’re certainly a pretty thing,” he said. “Tell the crowd your name—don’t be shy!”

  Kelly’s blue eyes narrowed, strands of blond hair hanging over her sweat-sheened forehead.

  “Fuck you,” she said. “That’s my name.”

  If there was any doubt it was her, those words dispelled it. And despite my fear, the slightest hint of a smile curled the corner of my mouth.

  It was Kelly, all right.

  Oohs and aahs broke out across the crowd, and it seemed as if more than a few people felt that Kelly’s comment might be grounds for a swift execution.

  I glanced over at the guards posted on both sides of the stage, worried that the MC might decide to give the crowd the blood they wanted with no muss, no fuss. But instead, he beamed his showman smile, his arms outstretched as he sauntered in front of the crowd.

  “Looks like we’ve got a live wire here, ladies and gentlemen!” he said. “But as much as we love a woman with a backbone, let’s give her a second chance to show some respect.”

  He strolled back in front of her.

  “Now,” he said. “Miss ‘fuck you,’ why don’t you be a good contestant and tell us your real name?”

  Come on, Kelly, I thought. Just say it. Don’t come back into my life just to be taken away again.

  The MC held the mic in front of her face, his eyebrows raised in anticipation.

  “Kelly,” she said. “Kelly Martinez.”

  “Ah!” said the MC. “The fiery Latina blood—who doesn’t love it?”

  Kelly was half Hispanic on her father’s side, but inherited her mother’s blond hair and blue eyes. I knew that the MC reducing her to a stereotype was only going to infuriate her—which, of course, was exactly what he wanted.

  “Anyway,” said the MC. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m ready to give the wheel a spin and see what fate has in store for Kelly. What do we think?”

  More cheers broke out, my heart thudding in my chest. The MC sauntered over to the wheel, placing his hand on the side.

  “And here we go!”

  With a heave, he gave it a spin. The red and black portions turned into a dark blur before slowing down again a few moments later. My stomach tensed, and it took all the effort I had to keep my eyes open and fixed on the wheel.

  “Almost there!” said the MC. “What’ll it be for Kelly? A broken leg? A quick boot out the front door? A night of luxury in one of our amazing VIP suites? Or…maybe she won’t even leave the stage!”

  Kelly pulled against her restraints as the wheel slowed down. The blur turned back to spots of red and black, the ticker flicking past all of the various options. It slowed, and slowed, my eyes locked onto the picture of the skull as it neared.

  And then it stopped.

  Chapter 2

  “Five thousand dollars in chips!”

  Relief hit me like a tidal wave as disappointed sounds erupted from the crowd.

  “Too bad for you all,” said the MC. “But great for lucky Miss Kelly!”

  The MC gestured to one of the guards, who approached Kelly and undid her restraints.

  Once she was free, Kelly dropped to her hands and knees, her hair draping down onto the floor. I was close enough to be able to watch her back rise and fall as she took in breath after breath before the guard grabbed her and pulled her up to her feet. She looked around as if in a daze.

  “Five thousand dollars in chips!” repeated the MC. “Come on!”

  He made a gesture to the crowd to keep the
applause going. A woman appeared from stage right, a showgirl in a blue sequined unitard and black leggings, her face done up, her lips such a bright shade of red they seemed to glow.

  The girl kept her eyes fixed on her crowd as she approached Kelly, a small stack of chips in her hands. Once she reached Kelly she handed them off. Kelly couldn’t have appeared less interested in the chips, but she took them and was led off the stage by the woman, who disappeared with Kelly behind the curtain with a wink and a blown kiss.

  “That was Daphne!” shouted the MC. “One of the fabulous Troika Girls!”

  The crowd cheered, and behind the MC the stage crew went to work clearing the wheel set off and replacing it with a large, detailed background of Vegas at night, complete with flashing neon lights.

  “You all want to see more of the girls!”

  Cheers broke out.

  “Well,” said the MC. “Here they come!”

  He gestured towards stage left, where a long string of girls, all dressed like the first, were emerging from behind the curtain. There had to be two dozen of them, all going right into an elaborate kick-dance routine set to brassy music coming from the speakers.

  It looked like something out of old-school Vegas. That is, until a record scratch cut through the music, replaced by a thumping electronic bass beat. The girls stopped their routine, turning their backs to the crowd. As the music picked up they turned, one by one, back around, this time taking down the zipper on their backs and slowly revealing the red bras beneath their unitards.

  Oh, I realized. It’s going to be that kind of dancing.

  Taking in the rest of the show was the last thing on my mind. As the crowd got up front their seats and began swarming the stage, holding out bills and throwing chips, all I could think about was finding Kelly.

  I barreled through the crowd, nearly knocking more than a few people on their asses while I made my way to one of the nearby guards.

  “Where?” I asked. “Where do they take the…contestants?”

  He shrugged.

  “If they’re still in one piece they let them go,” he said. “No clue where they’re at.”

  Some help.

  I turned on my feet and hurried through the crowd, scanning the wild, drunken men and women for any sign of Kelly.

  As I looked in vain, my mind began concocting nightmare scenarios of her being led backstage only to have a black bag thrown over her face and a bullet put into her head.

  The idea of finding her just to lose her again was torturous. Part of me was half-convinced that I’d hallucinated seeing her, that it had been some other woman on stage that I’d transposed her face onto.

  No, it was her. There was no one else it could’ve been.

  Once back on the main casino floor I stopped in my tracks and looked around, trying to focus myself among the lights and noises of the Troika.

  “Where are you?” I said out loud. “Where did you go?”

  And then my gaze landed on a head of blond hair moving through the crowd ahead.

  It was her.

  I shoved my way through the masses, my eyes locked onto the shock of blond hair. As I grew closer I could make out the blues of her eyes, the faint copper tint of her skin, the slight openness of her mouth as she wandered in a daze.

  Annoyed curses sprang from the crowd as I shoved the people away, getting closer and closer to the woman who, up until five months ago, had been my wife.

  I was fifty feet away. Then twenty. Then ten.

  Then I was right in front of her.

  She looked through me at first, as if I was some piece of furniture that had magically materialized in front of her.

  “Kelly!” I shouted out. “It’s me!”

  My voice sounded far away and strange, like I was speaking to someone that I’d encountered in a dream.

  I clapped my hands down on her slim shoulders, instantly feeling her heart pounding in her chest.

  Her eyes flicked up to mine.

  And then she understood.

  Kelly cocked her head the side and looked me over.

  “Justin?” she asked. “Is that you?”

  “It’s me,” I said, and just like that she was back.

  “Oh my God, Justin,” she said. “Oh my fucking God.”

  There were no words to express what I felt at that moment. I pulled Kelly into a tight hug, my arms wrapped around her slender body as I pressed her against me.

  Her arms hung loosely at her sides at first, as if she was still processing what had happened in the same way that I was, feeling like it was all some kind of dream.

  “It’s you,” she said. “It’s really you.”

  And in that moment it didn’t matter.

  The arguments, the tense silences growing ever more resentful.

  It was her.

  We were together.

  Chapter 3

  Five minutes later we were seated at the bar of one of the Troika’s many drinking establishments. The two of us were in a back corner, far away from any prying eyes.

  “There a reason we’re sitting here?” I asked as we took our places on the stools.

  “There is,” Kelly said. “Look.”

  She placed her hand on my shoulder and pointed in the direction of the main casino floor.

  “There,” she said. “There and there and there.”

  Her fingertip danced from place to place, and at first I wasn’t sure what she was referring to.

  Then I spotted it. Kelly was pointing out the black domes of the security cameras in the ceiling.

  “There are only a few places in the casino where you aren’t right in view of one of those things,” she said. “And this spot’s the only one where you can get a drink and stay away from them at the same time.”

  There was so much I wanted to ask her, but before I got a word out she waved her hand towards the bartender, one of the chips tucked between her fingers.

  “Hey!” she said. “I just barely avoided getting killed. Any chance one of you guys would be so kind as to serve me a damn drink?”

  As one of the nearby bartenders nodded and hurried over, I couldn’t help but smirk at the display. Kelly was mostly sweet and cheerful, but she had a brassy streak that was always just a hair away.

  “Yes, ma’am,” said the bartender. “Congratulations on your win.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Kelly. “I’ll take a glass of wine and a shot of vodka and…”

  She flicked her blue eyes over to me.

  “A water,” I said.

  She scoffed.

  “Are you kidding me?” she asked. “I nearly got murdered or my knees broken and you want a water?”

  She had a point.

  “A whiskey,” I said.

  “Make it two shots of vodka,” she said. “Not the shitty kind, either. The top-shelf stuff.”

  The bartender nodded and hurried off. Moments later, the drinks were in front of us.

  “Cheers,” Kelly said, raising her small glass of vodka.

  “Cheers,” I said.

  We tapped our glasses and threw back our shots. The vodka was cool and refreshing.

  “Careful with the big spending,” I said. “I just saw a guy get into a lot of trouble for that.”

  Kelly flashed me a confused expression, and I realized that I’d gotten so focused on Kelly that I hadn’t given a single thought to Carlos since I’d watched him get his hand smashed live on stage.

  “Huh?” she asked. “Who?”

  “The big guy,” I said. “The one on stage who’s not going to be playing piano again anytime soon.”

  “Oh, shit,” she said. “How’d you get wrapped up with him?”

  “Good question,” I said. “I guess the same way you ended up at a place like this.”

  I realized that we were getting ahead of ourselves, and remembered that I was sitting across from a woman I thought I’d never see again.

  “You’ve got that look on your face, Justin,” she said. “Except instead of
staring off into the distance, you’re staring at me.”

  “It’s you,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s really you.”

  She allowed herself a smile as she glanced down at her glass of wine, slowly turning it around by the base.

  “And it’s you,” she said softly.

  “Kelly,” I said. “I thought you were dead. When the EMP hit I thought you were on the plane and…”

  I trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

  “I’m not dead,” she said. “I’m right here.”

  A smile slowly spread across her face, one that was warm and…so much like the Kelly I’d always known.

  I loved that smile, the way it always put me at ease, made me feel like there was no one else in the world but her and me.

  “Okay,” she said. “Come back to the world of the living.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “This is just a lot to take in.”

  “Yeah, for me too.”

  A moment passed, then a curious expression formed on Kelly’s face.

  “Wait a minute,” she said. “Where’s Steve? He was coming in at around the same time you were, right?” Her expression turned from curious to fearful. “Don’t tell me that he’s…”

  “He’s not,” I said. “At least, I hope he’s not.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “Where is he?”

  I took a deep breath and brought her up to speed, telling her about our trip to O’Donnelly-Reeder to find her, and what happened to Steve as we tried to escape. Then I told her where he was, and why I wasn’t with him.

  “You…came to the airport to find me?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “That,” she said, allowing a small smile. “Was really, really, fucking stupid.” She gave me a gentle jab in the shoulder. “What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least go to look and see if you were there. It was stupid, I know.”

  “I’m just saying,” she said, setting down her glass of wine after taking a drink. “I would’ve thought the big survivalist would’ve high-tailed it out of the city as fast as he could.”