The Hungry 5: All Hell Breaks Loose (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series) (14 page)

Vanessa pulled into the parking lot of the Two Elks. The remaining cars had all been ransacked and exposed to the elements. Some of them were burned up, perhaps by National Guard troops who’d been hoping to contain the virus. There had been a lot of controlled chaos back at the beginning of the end, just before all hell broke loose. The front of the casino had apparently been fired on by tanks or a drone, or perhaps just by accident, and some of the edifice had fallen away. A few rooms on the top floor were wide open to the sky and desert. Tattered beige and white curtains flapped in the light breeze.

“Go slow,” Miller said, as she studied the building and the grounds.

Vanessa waited for further instructions. Miller had her drive up to the main doors and stop. She opened the door and listened. She heard the faint wind, some crows and a few crickets in the yellowing, overgrown grass.

“Okay, Penny,” said Scratch at last. “Remind me how we know that this isn’t actually the headquarters of the Zombie Teamsters Local 100?”

“Haven’t we already had this conversation, Scratch? We don’t,” Miller replied. “But I know this casino pretty well, and I figure if we were going to find some untouched supplies and decent shelter, this was as good a place as any to start. It’s off the beaten path and was never more than half full. Charlie and I used to wonder how the hell they managed to stay open.”

“I know we had this conversation. I was there when we had it. And it sounded awesome at the time. However, now that I look at the place, I’m thinking we can do better anywhere else.”

“Where do you suggest we go?”

Scratch opened his mouth, and promptly closed it again.

“That’s what I thought.”

“So we’re going inside for the night?” That was Brandon. He sounded worried.

“Penny?” Rat cleared her throat. “Do I have to remind you that we’re down to one weapon with less than twenty rounds? Look, you’re in charge, but it occurs to me that the probability of unintended consequences is higher than I think any of us will be comfortable with.”

Penny sighed. She was tired and thirsty and more than ready to take some manageable risks. The only question was whether this was a manageable risk.

“Let’s move out.” Penny reached for the door handle and stepped out. She kept listening and trying to sense the enemy. She felt nothing of interest. If there were zombies around, they weren’t very close, or she’d have known. Hell, the cadaver dog would have known.

“It’s settled,” Miller announced. She folded the seat forward to let Rolf and his dog out. “The plan is that Rolf and Dudley scout and clear the area for any bad guys. Big Ol’ Dudley just might save our butts tonight, if he’s as good as he seems. The rest of us will give them a head start and then follow single file.”

Scratch opened his door, and the others hopped out. It wasn’t exactly a Special Forces deployment, but it would do.

“We will find ourselves a nice little hidey hole on the top floor—as I recall, the penthouse is big enough to accommodate all of us, and from out here it looks like it still has a front wall. And then we get some rest. Everyone just stay the hell out of trouble until morning.”

“Good idea,” Scratch said, dryly. “I’ll work on that.”

Miller looked at each one, holding their gaze before moving on to the next. “We stick together. Don’t go anywhere alone, not even to pee. Everyone got that?”

No one responded. Rat was searching the building with her eyes, already on the lookout like the pro she’d always been. Miller was glad to have her along, despite their differences. Dudley the dog panted.

“Okay,” Miller said, “now let’s see how good this dog is. Dudley was a corpse sniffer, right? Then he should go bananas in there.”

Rolf nodded. He seemed confused and old all of a sudden. “Dudley and I won’t let you down.” He did not mention his imaginary friend Walter. Miller thought that Rolf seemed as close to sane as he’d ever been.
Close, but no cigar…

“That’s kind of what we’re counting on,” Scratch said, dryly, “that you won’t let us down. See, if you do, we’ll all die horribly.”

Miller shot Scratch a dirty look. She put her hand on Rolf’s arm to reassure him. “Let’s do this. Rolf, it’s your show.”

Rolf was chewing on that trinket on the string around his neck again. He stared at her, then bowed from the waist like a knight to the Queen. He brought his head up again, flicked off the safety on his weapon. His eyes went back to being a little too wild and wide. He said, “Onward and upward, Sir Dudley. Walter will catch up inside.”

“Take it slow. If you or Dudley see anything, alert the team. We’ll all deal with it. We’re right behind you, Rolf.”

“And watch out for live humans who may have had the same idea,” called Rat.

Rolf nodded. He opened the doors, and they all followed him inside.

The day was slowing down. Miller eyed the casino with caution. They’d cleared a lot of buildings before, of course—too many to count—but for some reason her nerves always twanged like piano wire at the start. These damn zombies had a nasty way of popping out of nowhere, and people died over and over. Night would make that fact feel even worse.

Miller was a few feet behind Rolf, with Scratch and Sheppard behind her. Brandon and Vanessa came next, with Rat bringing up the rear. The sounds outside seemed to condense and fade away as they went under the large canopy.

Miller entered the casino through the front doors, followed very closely by Scratch. With two strides of his long legs, he was walking ahead of her, looking like his old bad-ass self. Miller could not help but smile. Scratch seemed determined to prove that he was still her protector, as well as second in command of the group. It was a role that suited him. Hopefully Scratch wouldn’t take any damned-fool risks today by trying to play the hero. He’d always been prone to getting himself in over his head, though somehow never to the point of drowning. He seemed like his old self. It was good to have him back.

Once they were inside, in the gloom of the empty casino, Rat switched places with Sheppard and jogged closer to flank Miller. They stepped into the huge gaming area. Dead slot machines stood like sentries from a lost civilization. Thick dust motes floated everywhere. The card tables were covered with chips and empty liquor glasses and debris. Miller could see dozens of dead bodies stacked near the windows and exits, most of them just bones covered with rags, or scattered bits from when the scavengers got them. The skulls were shattered. Some kind of a pitched battle had taken place months ago and the survivors had headshot the dead to make certain they stayed that way. The bodies were all rotted husks now, picked clean by flies and stray dogs and other creatures from the desert.

Rat stopped moving so Miller froze and held up her hand. She studied Rat, who was right behind her, just a step to the rear and one to the right, rather like a wingman. Rat listened intently for something but then relaxed and shook her head. Rat was a mercenary, of course, and Miller knew that if there was a way to collect a big payday, Rat would take the next offer that came along. But for the moment, she was
their
mercenary, and a damn good one. Miller knew that Rat was just playing it safe, hoping to get back to civilization where she could check in with her bank accounts. She still needed to see if that son of a bitch Rubenstein had ever paid his bills. Rat wanted badly to retire, and Miller couldn’t blame her. Miller had a pretty good idea that they would lose Rat once they made it back to civilization, but by then hopefully there wouldn’t be any need for her professional services beyond that.

Sheppard and Brandon were now bringing up the rear, right behind Vanessa, who walked alone, holding her belly. As they moved deeper into the casino, nothing happened and the group began to relax. Rolf and Dudley were still silent. Perhaps the dead were truly dead. There was no sign of looters or survivors. The casino appeared deserted. Apparently Miller had led them to a safe place after all. She let down a bit for the first time in ages, though her eyes kept sweeping the building for any signs of movement.

Rat and Scratch switched places. Miller studied her group. They stepped around scattered decks of cards and piles of now worthless gaming chips. The casino was full of cobwebs and had the tainted reek of death about it. She figured the poor dog was probably on circuit overload by now, but Dudley had not barked.

Miller paused. Then she heard something above them, the squeak of a floorboard. Rolf raised his hand and they all froze again. After a moment, he looked back from his position on point and shook his head. They all let go of a little of the tension. Rolf moved again, and they followed.

Miller studied Sheppard and Brandon. They were still next to each other, and seemed to have formed a unit, but nothing else seemed to be going on. She wasn’t sure she could trust Brandon—or Vanessa, for that matter. Of her new additions, the only one she had any faith in was Rolf. Well, and Dudley. It occurred to her that Brandon might just be using them to get to safety. On the whole, she wouldn’t have expected anything else. Everyone wanted to survive in a time of utter disaster. Actually, she would have been more suspicious of him if he
wasn’t
motivated by survival.

Rat led the group to the end of the gaming area and over to a long escalator, which probably hadn’t moved since the first day the zombies arrived. The escalator led up to the next floor of the building. Rolf kept moving forward without hesitation. Miller began to wonder if Rolf was paying attention. Maybe the dog was oversold.

Just then Rat dropped into a crouch.

“Hold,” Rat whispered from her crouch. Everyone paused. They all crouched lower down to the fancy carpet. The air went thick with tension. Brandon got some dust in his nose and fought back a giant sneeze. The noises from above continued. Was it some kind of struggle, perhaps, or someone trying to run away?

And now the dog started barking. Rolf ran up the escalators directly behind the dog, and Rat followed him closely. Miller could hear that Dudley was excited by something, rather than scared or angry, and that someone new was shouting back at the animal. It was a lone female voice. Miller assumed Rolf and Dudley had stumbled upon a survivor. So, instead of taking cover, Miller just shouted, “Rolf, report!”

“O Chosen One!” he called back. “The way is clear but we’ve found a civilian.”

“Is she injured?” Sheppard called. Miller wondered if Sheppard was concerned about her needing medical attention, or possibly being infected by the virus. Probably a little bit of both. They waited for a response.

“She seems healthy enough,” Rat called.

Miller cupped her hands over her mouth. “Any hostiles?”

Rolf said, “Negative. The civilian in custody reports that there are no hostiles remaining on site. It is safe to come upstairs, according to Dudley.”

“According to Dudley?”

“Yes, and Walter concurs.”

“It’s safe, Penny,” said Rat.

They trotted up the dead escalator, around the corner and came out onto the second floor. This Miller already knew to be a long stretch of less expensive hotel rooms. Miller kept the group near the exit just in case anything went wrong. She waved instructions. Rat took the left flank, Scratch the right, while Miller remained slightly on point in the middle. Vanessa stayed on the escalator about four steps down. Meanwhile, Sheppard dropped back to cover their asses without being asked. Brandon stayed with him. A broken window allowed a light breeze to flow in, freshening the air.

Standing with her hands up, covered by Rolf’s submachine gun, a young woman stood, looking frightened. She seemed weirdly out of place in the empty building. She wore some kind of a silly cowgirl outfit, with a red hat, skirt, and boots, and a white blouse with a string tie. She had freckles and brown hair. She looked dirty and tired, like everyone else. She was thin and her skin was pale and sunken. If she had been pretty once, the apocalypse had stolen that from her too.

Scratch said, “Howdy.”

“Hi, there,” the cowgirl said, sheepishly. “Boy, am I glad to see you.”

That surprised Miller. There were a lot of reactions she could have had, and she could be glad to see them after all, but armed strangers couldn’t be good for her in the long run. She was probably trying to figure out what their intentions were. Miller couldn’t blame her.

Dudley circled the girl and starting licking her hand.

“How long have you been here?” Miller asked, stepping forward.

“Since the first day,” she said. “It’s been a long time since I seen another live person.”

“I bet,” said Scratch. He stepped close to her. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

She looked up at him, and smiled brightly. Miller’s suspicions went up a notch.

“I’m Shirley Carson,” she said. “I used to sing here.” She stepped a little closer, and straightened her back a bit more, pushing her breasts toward Scratch. “May I put my hands down now, sir?”

Miller moved a little closer, almost between Scratch and Shirley. “Are you armed?”

“No, ma’am. There’s nothing to be armed with around here but a few kitchen knives. I’m guessing you can see I’m not carrying one of those.”

Miller shot Scratch a look. She wanted to know if he was buying in to her story. Scratch kept his eyes on the much shorter woman. Miller decided it was time to reassert her command of the situation.

“Yes, you can lower your hands.” She turned to Sheppard and Brandon. “I need you two to check the rooms. Just make sure they’re locked. If you see a room that’s open, back away and report. You got it?”

“Understood, Penny.” Sheppard glanced at Brandon, and the younger man followed obediently. Miller decided she should stop worrying about Brandon’s loyalty. He was in foreign territory just like the rest of them. Now would not be the time he would do something stupid.