Chapter 7Hell

Chapter 7

Hell

The rusted carcass of the Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas sign loomed over us, a relic smothered in creeping vines and the thick, toxic fog that choked the city.

We drove through the outskirts like ghosts, the once-vibrant strip, now just a graveyard of neon bones. Our respirator masks were strapped tight, misting up with each tense breath.

I gripped the oh shit handle as if it could anchor me. The fog was a living thing, heavy with poison, clinging to the decaying buildings and crawling along the cracked streets. It didn't sway even when the hollow whispers of wind tried to cut through; it was as stubborn as the death clinging to the city.

"Shit, watch out!" Alex's voice cut through the silence, sharp and urgent.

Wyatt swerved, narrowly missing a zombie that staggered out from the mist. Its arms reached for us, fingers twitching with the last echoes of human desperation.

"Those fucking reflexes…" Dante grunted from the backseat, his eyes scanning the horizon where the jagged silhouette of the buildings pierced the sky.

We wove between abandoned cars and the occasional shuffling dead, our own vehicles armored beasts that could mow them down. The Bellagio fountains were a cracked basin of decay, the water long evaporated. Caesar's Palace stood like a mausoleum for lost hedonism.

"Which hotel is your brother in?" Missy asked over the walkie.

Ethan's gaze was fixed on the giant pyramid as we approached, its once-gleaming surface now dulled by dust and despair. "The penthouse of the Luxor. He's waiting for us there."

There was a collective groan from pretty much everyone in the car.

"Alright," I said, as Wyatt eased off the gas as we neared the pyramid-shaped tomb. "Looks like we're going tomb raiding."

The Luxor loomed over us. Its once-shimmering windows were now shattered teeth in a gaping maw, and the vibrant signs that had beckoned millions to indulge and play were faded and peeling.

"I always hated liminal spaces. I just never thought Vegas of all places would become one," Dante muttered, his gaze fixed on the pyramid's apex piercing the fog like a forgotten obelisk.

"Welcome to the new and improved ruins," I retorted, unable to suppress a shiver as the chill seeped through the cracks in our armor. "Maybe this is what actually happened in ancient Egypt. Maybe they had some kind of zombie invasion and had to reset, and the ruins are just really old hotels."

There was a collective snort, and I couldn't help but join them. The idea was obviously insane… but what if?

We parked the car alongside the others, the engines' growls dying into an unnerving silence. We rolled down the windows, eyes meeting through lenses of respirators, our breaths fogging the air inside.

"We need to be quick and quiet. Ethan, your brother is top priority. Scottie, Niko—you're on him like shadows. The rest of us will watch your six."

Scottie nodded, his green eyes sharp beneath his mask. "Got it. We'll keep the kid safe."

"Wait, can I?—"

"Jessa, no fucking way you're getting a gun," Alex cut her off before she could finish. His voice was a blade—cold and unyielding.

"Whatever," she huffed, annoyance clear even through the muffling mask.

"Remember, the machetes are silent. Guns are a last resort." My gaze swept across the group, the seriousness of the situation reflected in their eyes. One wrong move and it was all fucking over. "Let's move."

We stepped out into the silent city, the fog embracing us like a shroud. Our boots crunched on debris, the sound magnified in the stillness as we approached the skeleton of the Luxor.

"Place looks like it's seen better days," Dante murmured, eyeing a toppled sphinx half-buried in rubble.

"Let's hope the inside's not a complete death trap," I whispered back, leading the way towards what once was an entrance to over-the-top opulence, now just another doorway to the underworld itself.

"God, remember when this place was all about the bling?" I couldn't help but muse aloud, my voice echoing off the walls, remnants of slot machines and gaming tables littering our path.

"Focus," Alex hissed from behind me, but there was no hiding the awe in his eyes as they took in the ruins of sin city.

I stuck my tongue out at him, but he couldn't see it with my mask on.

We hadn't gone far when the first one lunged—a zombie in a shredded showgirl costume, sequins winking out from torn flesh. With practiced ease, I sidestepped and swung hard, my machete slicing through its neck. The head thumped to the carpet with a muffled sound, body crumpling lifelessly.

"Nice one," Nina quipped, before kicking another undead assailant back into the shadows as it popped out from behind a statue.

"Bet she never thought her last dance would be with you," Missy said with a laugh, dodging a clumsy swipe and severing an arm of yet another sneaky bastard.

"Always knew I'd make it big one day," I shot back, and the guys rolled their eyes.

"Quiet down, or we'll have more company than we can handle," Wyatt warned after a particularly noisy scuffle, his gaze darting to the darkened corners where danger might lurk.

"Relax, big guy, we're just fucking around," I replied, even as I wiped zombie gore from my blade.

"I'd rather not get eaten," he grumbled, but there was a reluctant admiration in his tone.

"Alright, let's keep moving. Eyes peeled for more showgirls. If you see Celine Dion, please don't take her out, I don't think my heart can take it!"

"Shit," Dante cursed under his breath as we came upon a chasm where the floor should've been, gaping like a giant's maw ready to swallow us whole.

"Isn't there a service passage around here?" I asked, eyes flitting across the decrepit map on the faded wallpapers and crumbling plaster. I'd never been to the Luxor before, but all hotel casinos were the same. They had tunnels that ran throughout the buildings.

"Over there," Ethan responded, pointing to a barely discernible door half-hidden behind an upturned blackjack table. "Used it to dodge the deadheads before."

Dante snorted, muttering deadheads under his breath.

"Lead the way, then," Wyatt said, clapping Ethan on the shoulder with a reassuring grip.

We shuffled through the narrow passageway, the stale air tasting of mold rot. The walls pressed close, raising my heart rate. I fucking hated tight spaces.

"Ever think we'd end up as real-life tomb raiders?" Dante murmured with a grim chuckle.

"Minus the sexy outfits," I said, gesturing to myself and my cargo pants.

"All of your outfits are sexy," Wyatt added with a smirk.

"Can the chatter!" Alex's authoritative voice cut through the noise. "We've got company."

Zombies stumbled towards us from a side corridor, their groans a chorus of the damned that only now began to echo off of the walls. We sprang into action—no room for guns here, only blades and brute force. They hit us like a wave, Jessa and Ethan falling back behind the group.

"Fuck, I miss sunlight," I grunted, driving my machete into the skull of a once-sequined showgirl turned flesh-hungry ghoul. I moved onto a preacher, then a naked man wearing a ball gag in his mouth.

"Keep dreaming of beaches," Missy called out, her own blade a silver flash in the dim light.

"Beaches and bikinis," Nina chimed in.

"Less talking, more chopping," Alex snapped, his frustration fueling every deadly strike.

"Easy there, tiger," Dante teased lightly, but even his voice held an edge sharper than the weapons we wielded.

We emerged from the fray, breaths ragged, hearts hammering. "All good?" I checked, scanning the faces of my makeshift family. "Let's move," I ordered, stepping over the carnage we left behind. "Ethan, which way to the penthouse?"

"Up," he said.

"Duh," Jessa muttered.

I snapped my eyes to hers and glared, but she pretended she hadn't said a word. My slapping hand was suddenly feeling a little bit neglected in her presence.

The upper levels of the Luxor loomed over us like a silent sentinel, its broken windows staring out into oblivion. I peered through one, the city beyond a graveyard of neon dreams swallowed by fog. The strip, once ablaze with life, now lay cold and still—a bleached bone under the weight of decay.

"Shit, look at this place," Wyatt murmured, his gaze following mine.

"Vegas, baby," Dante muttered, but there was no humor in his voice, only a dark echo of what had been lost.

The stairwell beckoned, a gaping black hole that just screamed danger. We gathered, poised for the ascent, when chaos erupted.

"Fuck!" Jessa's curse sliced through the silence as she stumbled, a statue crashing to the ground with a thunderous roar. Stone shattered everywhere, the sound a thunderclap in the silence.

And then they were upon us—twenty decaying monstresses and monsters spilling from an old theater, their moans rattling the walls. The doors were shoved open and they spilled out into the open as if they'd been staggering around just inside, waiting for something to come along and beckon them for a meal.

"Run!" I yelled, heart slamming against my ribs. Panic took over as we went into flight mode.

Niko scooped up Jessa with a snarl, and we bolted for the emergency stairs. Adrenaline surged as we took the steps two at a time, the dead close on our heels. A hand shot out, rotten fingers grazing my ankle. I stumbled, a scream trapped in my throat. Ret's blade whistled past my ear, sinking into the skull of the zombie with a sickening crunch.

"Thanks," I gasped, our eyes locking in a moment charged with something fierce and primal.

"Anytime," she growled, her eyes blazing, and we were running again, the heat of that exchange fueling my legs.

Gunfire echoed in the stairwell, a staccato rhythm against the moans and gurgles. We had no choice—the horde was too thick, the danger too close. My finger squeezed the trigger again and again. We switched off who was in front and who moved to the back. It was too risky for everyone to shoot at once at the risk of friendly fire.

"Cover me!" I shouted, as Alex unloaded beside me, his face a mask of rage. Dante's glock boomed, Wyatt's pistol cracked.

With a final, desperate shove, we slammed the emergency door on the last of the undead, the sound of their thwarted hunger muffled by the metal barrier. Our breaths came hard and fast as we heaved debris in front of the door, anything to keep them at bay.

"Up," I panted, gesturing with my head. We ascended further, leaving behind the carnage. But there was no relief; the dead littered the steps, victims of a previous struggle. Each one we passed, I saw not monsters, but people—once alive, once human.

"God, look at them," Nina murmured, her machete dripping.

We dispatched those that stirred with ruthless efficiency, a mercy in this twisted world. With each life I ended, a part of me wondered about theirs—who they'd been, who had loved them. If I turned, would anyone have the mercy to end me?

We burst into the penthouse, lungs burning, weapons lowered but still ready. The place was a time capsule of opulence, dust-covered and silent. Ethan's brother emerged from the shadows, disbelief etched on his gaunt features. Ethan dropped his makeshift weapon and ran to him, their embrace full of relief.

"I found help," Ethan gasped, clinging to his brother. "They're gonna get us out."

We collapsed onto couches and chairs, the adrenaline ebbing away, leaving exhaustion in its wake. Outside, the city lay in ruins, but here, for a moment, we could pretend we were safe. We could pretend the world hadn't ended.

I surveyed the penthouse, taking in the faded grandeur, the relics of a life long gone. Marble floors were streaked with grime, plush couches coated in a film of neglect. The bar, once stocked with top-shelf liquor, now held only empty bottles and the ghosts of good times past.

Ethan and his brother huddled in the corner, their murmured conversation a reminder of why we were here. I caught Alex's eye, a silent understanding passing between us. We had to get them out, get them somewhere safe. If such a place even existed anymore.

"We can't stay long," I said, my voice cutting through the stillness. "We rest for the night, but we have to leave the moment the sun comes up."

I wandered to the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city stretching out before me like a fallen kingdom. The pyramid's peak sliced the sky, a monument to the hubris of man. We thought we could build

castles in the sand, that our neon dreams were enough to keep the darkness at bay. How wrong we'd been.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Wyatt sidled up beside me, his presence solid and reassuring.

"Just thinking about how much has changed," I murmured, my gaze fixed on the horizon. "How much we've lost."

"It's fucked," he said flatly. "Not exactly how I planned out my retirement."

I raised a brow. "Your like 35."

He shrugged. "I'm a planner to a fault."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Well, I don't think any of us planned for this." I gestured to the ruined cityscape, the fog that clung to the streets like a shroud.

Wyatt was silent for a moment, his eyes distant. "You know, I used to dream of coming here. Hitting the jackpot, living the high life." He laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "Guess the universe had other plans."

"The universe is a bitch," I muttered, earning a wry smile from him.

We lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching the city that never slept finally succumb to an eternal slumber. The weight of all we'd lost pressed down on me, but so did the strength of those still standing at my side.

Behind us, the others settled in for a long night, the soft murmurs of conversation drifting through the penthouse. Missy and Nina raided the bar, clinking dusty glasses filled with the finest champagne. Dante and Scottie set up a watch rotation, their faces grim with the knowledge that danger lurked just beyond our temporary sanctuary.

I turned from the window, my gaze settling on Ethan and his brother, huddled together on a plush sofa that had seen better days. They looked so young, so vulnerable, and a fierce protectiveness surged through me.

As if sensing my thoughts, Alex approached, his pale eyes unreadable. "We need a plan," he said quietly, his voice low enough not to carry. "Getting in was one thing, but getting out..."

I nodded, my mind already racing through possibilities, each one more risky than the last. "Hopefully the zombies will thin out overnight. Maybe we can sneak out unnoticed."

"Let's hope we're that lucky," he said.

We gathered around the marble kitchen island, the city lights twinkling through the grimy windows like fading stars. A map of the Strip lay before us, the once vibrant avenues now marked with ominous red X's.

"The fastest route is straight down Las Vegas Boulevard," Alex said, tracing a finger along the main thoroughfare. "But it's also the most exposed."

"We'd be sitting ducks," Dante agreed, his brow furrowed. "Especially with the kids in tow."

Ethan bristled at that, his jaw clenching. "We can handle ourselves."

I shot him a sympathetic look. "No one's doubting your grit, kid. But out there, it's a whole different ballgame."

"What about the old maintenance tunnels?" Nina piped up, tapping a spot on the map. "They run under the whole Strip, connecting all the hotels."

"That could work," I mused, my mind whirring with possibilities. "Less chance of running into any nasty surprises."

"Except for the fact that they're pitch black and full of rats," Missy muttered, wrinkling her nose.

"And we might get stuck down there or run out of gas," I added. "No, it's better to stick to the main highways."

The others agreed. We'd sneak out in the morning, make a break for the hummers, and try to get out as unnoticed as possible.