Resident Evil_ Extinction - Keith R. A. DeCandido [28]
“A video billboard,” Otto said. “And you expect it still to be working why, exactly?”
“It’s solar-powered,” Carlos said.
When she noticed moving images on the road ahead, right before the road angled downward into a valley, Claire asked, “Does the billboard say WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS STAYS IN VEGAS?”
“That’s the one,” Carlos said.
“Then everyone pull yourselves over, ’cause we’re coming up on it now.”
Claire pulled the Hummer onto the shoulder of the highway, decelerating at a leisurely pace to give all the other large vehicles time to shed momentum. A car crash would be beyond disastrous.
From the back, Kmart said, “I hope this is a real town. Not like Pahrump.”
“You keep mentioning Pahrump. It’s not like it’s the only town that was abandoned and half buried in dunes.” A lot of the towns that they’d come across had been half buried in sand, as if the desert was reclaiming them. In a few more years, there might not have been any sign of Pahrump, or Kettleman Station, or Bakersfield, or Lebec, or any number of other places.
“Yeah, but I just like saying it. Pahrump, Pahrump, Pahrump. Who names a town that?”
“The people of Pahrump, apparently,” Claire said as she switched the ignition off and opened the door.
L.J. and Carlos had already gotten out and were running ahead to the billboard, which stood about thirty feet high, in the hopes of getting a better vantage.
Claire leaned against the side of the Hummer, Kmart standing next to her. Imagining that she was smoking a cigarette, Claire reached in to grab the PRC so she could talk to Carlos and L.J. The pair of them were climbing up the billboard as if it was a set of monkey bars, Carlos moving a bit faster than L.J.
Once they got to the top, Carlos took out a pair of binoculars. “This is another one the desert’s trying to take back,” he said.
“Latest in a motherfuckin’ series—collect ’em all,” L.J. said. “Shit.” That last word was stretched out to about four syllables.
“However,” Carlos added, “we got us a motel, complete with restaurant, gift shop, and, best of all, gas station.”
“Eu-goddamn-reka.” That was Chase MacAvoy, who’d been riding shotgun with L.J. in the tanker.
A pause. Claire looked up to see that Carlos was taking in the entire view.
Finally, he said, “Seems quiet.” L.J. put in, “Don’t they always?”
Claire sighed. “Your call.”
Otto then said, “Whatever you guys decide, can you get a move on? I got a yoga class at seven.”
That prompted several chuckles. It was also code: the kids were getting restless, and stopping for a while wouldn’t be a bad thing. Stopping in a place that at least once was part of Western civilization would be an even better thing.
Finally, Carlos said, “I think it’s worth a look. I’m not seeing any signs of life or unlife, but as long as we’re careful…”
“Fine,” Claire said. “You two go on ahead and scope out the joint.”
“Copy that.”
As Carlos and L.J. started climbing back down off the billboard that continued to extoll the virtues of Las Vegas—a place they’d all been afraid to visit, having learned the hard way that big cities were not safe—Claire hoped and prayed that there would be something left in the gas station. She had very little expectation for food—anything still left in the restaurant had probably long since spoiled, though the gift shop might have had some jerky or canned food.
But what they needed more than fuel for the body was fuel for the convoy. The best way to stay safe was to keep moving. The biggest advantage that the living had over the dead was speed—the zomboids ambulated at a fairly leisurely pace and weren’t capable of the motor functions necessary to operate a moving vehicle.
So staying mobile was key, and that required gas.
Her last words to Carlos before signing off were: “Good luck.”
SEVEN
BEFORE
The face of Dr. Sam Isaacs stared angrily through the computer screen at Dr. Jaime Cerota. She tried not to be intimidated by him, but the way he stared was just demoralizing. It was as if she was in college all over again, with Professor Krapovsky glowering at her