Demon Gate: Beyond the 9th Circle: The Rapture Was Just The Beginning. (8 page)

“NOW!” Spencer shouted.
Vince lit the flare and tossed it out the window,
and it landed three feet from the gas.
“Damn, I missed.” Vince mourned.
“Don’t worry,” Spencer said.
“Who’s worried?” Vince asked.
“We still have a backup plan,” Spencer
reminded as he raised a remote detonator he had
retrieved from the back of Louis’ truck two days
earlier. Spencer raised the protective cover and
flipped the switch.
Instantly the entire station erupted into a
minefield of fire and smoldering shrapnel as the
propane tank exploded, and then it was all over.
Spencer tossed the detonator into the back seat,
started the car, and sped away.
“How much longer do you…” Vince was
silenced by the deafening noise of the gas main
under the truck stop exploding.
“Do you think any of them survived?”
Vince asked while the fire raged behind them at
an ever-increasing distance.
“I hope the blast waited until it got the
queen, but I would rather not go back and find
out,” Spencer replied as he got onto I-40 and
sped away.
“So, we’re heading to Vegas?” Vince
asked.
“That’s right,” Spencer replied.
Vince stayed quiet.
“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked.
Vince took a deep breath before going on.
“Are you sure Las Vegas is really the best
option?” Vince asked meekly.
“For the moment, yes.”
I-40 went west for another few miles
before turning south just outside Kingman
Arizona where Highway 93 picked up and
headed to the northwest towards the Colorado
River where highway 93 crossed over on a bridge
that was a marvel of modern engineering.
A gaping precipice opened up and to
Spencer’s horror he realized something was
missing. It was the bridge over the Colorado
River. Spencer slammed on the breaks and
skidded to a stop before his car plunged hundreds
of feet into the gorge below. Spencer got out and
approached the edge of the demolished
suspension bridge.
“You have got to be kidding me,”
Spencer shouted, “The bridge must have
collapsed. Or it was knocked down.” Spencer
considered.
Vince approached and looked to the
north. “What about the dam?” Vince asked.
Spencer turned to survey the dam, the
light had faded, the dam stood cloaked in
darkness. “I hope it’s still crossable.” Spencer
said running back to the car.
Spencer and Vince jumped in. Spencer shifted in
to reverse and jolted backwards then flipped the
wheel around to face the car away from the
gaping maw before shifting into drive.
“What do you think destroyed the
bridge?” Vince asked.
“I’m more concerned with getting across
the dam before something happens to it too,”
Spencer said as he sped back up the road to an
older road, US-93X, which ran by Highway 93
before running under it and winding through the
terrain which quickly opened up to show the
massive concrete structure holding back the
entire Colorado River.
Vince looked at the river as Spencer
slowed for the crossing. “That’s odd,” Vince said
as they started passing over the dam.
“What’s odd?” Spencer asked.
“Does the water level look a little high to
you?” Vince asked.
“How the hell should I know, I’m from
Jersey.” Spencer retorted.
Vince seemed uneasy as water splashed
over the crest of the dam. Then he took a glance
upstream towards Lake Mead. “Oh, damn,”
Vince said in fearful awe as a wall of water
fifteen feet higher than the top of Hoover dam
rushed in. Where had it come from? Spencer
knew they were sitting ducks on the bridge so he
hit the gas and crossed the rounded shape of the
dam’s crest seconds before the water crashed
over the top.
“That was close.” Vince remarked as the
GTO sped down a small avenue before the road
made a hairpin turn, forcing Spencer to drift
around the turn on his way towards Sin City.
There was a dark, heavy feeling in the air
as Spencer and Vince closed the distance to Las
Vegas, but as the city came into view they
couldn’t believe what they saw. It was obvious
from the road leading into the city that most of
the metropolis was flooded; everything east of I15 was submerged beneath what must have been
fifteen feet of water.
Several miles distant the Stratosphere
Tower was visible yet still the size of a
matchstick protruding up from the ground, it was
still far enough away from the major flooded
street; that was their objective. A single line went
towards the tower; it was the Las Vegas beltway,
which circumnavigated the city allowing Spencer
to avoid most of the flooded parts of the city.
Once on I-15 they realized how quiet the city
was.
“I wonder if a portal opened here,”
Spencer wondered aloud. Turning off of I-15
they noticed the level of the water was not close
to the Stratosphere.
Spencer and Vince got out. “Do you think
the elevator works?” Spencer asked.
“I hope not. I kinda hate heights.” Vince
declared. Vince looked up the road. “Have you
ever been here?” Vince asked.
“No, have you?” Spencer retorted.
“I came to Vegas a couple times a year.
There are a series of pawn shops up the road
from here. I’m willing to bet most haven’t been
flooded, I’m willing to bet at least one ran guns
for one of the Las Vegas crime bosses.”
“What the hell are you saying?” Spencer
demanded impatiently.
“They may have some really big guns or
at least lots of extra ammo. I think we should go
check them out.” Vince suggested.
“You know, a decent sniper rifle would
come in handy if another hive queen comes our
way.” Spencer conceded.
“The seedier the better.” Vince
commented.
Spencer and Vince climbed back into the
car and headed up the street a couple blocks past
Charleston Boulevard.
The first pawnshop just had a bunch of
computers, jewelry, DVD’s, television sets, and
old tools. The next pawnshop Vince seemed
excited about.
“This is where they made that show.”
Vince said excitedly as they walked through the
shattered front door. The selection at the second
shop was a lot more impressive, but there were
no decent guns. There was an old cannon, but
getting it to the top of the Stratosphere would
prove to be more of a chore than it would be
worth.
As they exited the pawnshop, Spencer
turned to Vince, “Where’s the next one?”
“A few blocks north,” Vince replied.

As Spencer climbed out he glanced at the
sun, then at his watch. It was getting late. “If we
don’t find anything I’m pulling the plug on this
scrounge mission.”

Vince followed Spencer in, anxious about
what they were going to find. Passing through the
door they found several guns, most were the kind
a girl would have in her purse, the rest were
destroyed and lying in pieces like everything else
in the pawn shop. Spencer made it to the back
wall. Walking behind the counter he saw much of
the same.

“That’s it.” Spencer said emerging from
behind the counter. “I’m pulling the plug.”
Spencer failed to see something that was sticking
out from behind the counter. Spencer’s foot hit
an obstruction and he tumbled to the floor.

“Damn it.” Spencer snipped, and then he
saw something. Like a piece of metal under one
of the shelves. Spencer pushed the shelf away to
get a better look at it.
It was a latch. Spencer fumbled with the latch
and opened a fairly well hidden door/panel that
opened onto a tunnel under the pawnshop. There
was a simple ladder that went down thirty feet to
a horizontal tunnel.

“Vince!” Spencer called. “Come look at
this.”
Vince came over into see what Spencer
was talking about. Spencer stood and started to
climb down the ladder.
“Where are you going?” Vince asked
trying to strike a delicate balance between loud,
quiet, alarmed and stern.
“I’m going to see what’s down here,”
Spencer replied.
Vince followed Spencer down the ladder to the
tunnel, which was twenty feet long. There was a
door at the end which looked sturdy, but it was
secured by a key pad on the side.
Vince started trying random combinations when
Spencer pulled Vince aside, aimed his Glock at
the keypad and pulled the trigger four times. The
door swung free and opened with a bang,
something Spencer’s foot encouraged with great
force. Spencer stepped inside.
“Holy crap,” Spencer said when he saw
the guns that were theirs for the taking.
“I don’t mean to be a downer, but the
power is out all over the city, how are we getting
all of these guns and ammunition to the top of the
Stratosphere?” Vince asked.
“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to
it,” Spencer replied as he started collecting the
weapons. It was nearly nightfall when Spencer
and Vince managed to get the guns to the bottom
of the tower.
“Look around for an emergency generator
and a freight elevator, they had to get all of those
rides to the top somehow,” Spencer said
Vince and Spencer split off after entering
the casino at the base of the tower. The room was
dark and it was obvious from the dust and debris
that the power died several days earlier.
Emergency battery lighting still illuminated the
area, but it too was fading.
Spencer headed to the rear of the casino
where he found a layout of the lower levels.
Figuring out how to read the map was a
challenge, but he quickly found the freight
elevator, which was next to a loading dock.
“Vince, I found a freight elevator.”
They walked along and soon weakened
battery lighting turned into a dimly lit casino, and
Vince found Spencer.
“I found a generator; there wasn’t a lot of
fuel,” Vince announced.
“How much time do you think we have?”
Spencer asked.
“We should be able to get ourselves and a
few guns and ammo to the top if we’re lucky.”
Vince replied.
“Then let’s get those guns out of the
trailer and up the tower before the generator
fails.” Spencer suggested.
Spencer jogged for the door they entered
from and brought their stash of guns to the
loading dock where Vince helped load the
weapons into the freight elevator.
“How much time do you think we have?”
Spencer asked as he loaded a case of ammunition
into the elevator.
“Truth be told, I’m surprised the power is
still on, there really wasn’t much fuel left.” Vince
admitted.
“Why don’t you go check?” Spencer
suggested. Vince nodded and headed off to check
the generator.
Vince opened the lid to check the fuel and
found the bottom had a thin level of fuel.
“Oh, no!” Vince hauled ass back to the
loading dock.
“We have to get up, now!” Vince urged.
“How much fuel do we have left?”
Spencer asked as he loaded another case of
ammo into the elevator.
“No time, let’s go.” Vince said as he and
Spencer got into the elevator, and pressed the
button for the observation deck leaving a sizable
portion of guns and ammo on the ground floor,
the elevator door closed and started moving. Half
way there the lights began to flicker, not much
but enough to cause concern for Spencer and
Vince. As the elevator continued moving the
flickering began to accelerate. Soon a creaking
started gnawing away at their ears.
Vince looked at the display. “Good, we’re
almost there, two more floors.” Vince said.
The floor number on the display changed.
“One more floor.”
Then the lights died, and the elevator jolted to a
stop.
Spencer knew they were in trouble, but
not willing to accept defeat.
“Help me pry these doors open.” Spencer
said.
He and Vince pulled the doors open. They were
half way between the observation deck and the
floor beneath it.
“Get up, I’ll hand this stuff out to you.”
Spencer directed and Vince climbed out, several
large guns spilled onto the observation deck floor
followed by a case of ammunition, and then the
second and then a third before the creaking
resumed louder and deeper than before. Spencer
was standing clear of the elevator door when it
happened. A snap from a weakened elevator
cable made the elevator drop four feet cutting
Spencer off from the observation deck before the
brakes took hold, halting its rapid decent and
sparing Spencer’s life, for the moment.
“SPENCER!” Vince shouted, for a long
moment there was no sound but the clattering of
cables at the bottom of the shaft. “SPENCER?”
Vince repeated.
After a moment the silence was broken.
“I’m alright.” Spencer called back trying to
remain calm, but freaking out inside. Looking up
at the elevator car’s ceiling he found a hatch and
climbed up to it and pushed it open, the elevator
creaked again before taking a final plunge.
“NO!” Vince shouted trying to reach for
Spencer. Vince rushed for the open elevator
shaft, hoping he survived. To his great relief he
found his companion hanging on to a ladder
inside the elevator shaft several floors down.
“You scared the hell out of me,” Vince
said with relief.
“That’s great; could you get me a rope?”
Spencer cynically requested.
Vince found a fire hose nearby and lowered the
hose down to Spencer who had already climbed
up two of the seven floors.
“Here.” Vince said as he lowered the hose
into the elevator shaft. Soon Spencer lay on the
floor outside the shaft.
“Don’t do that again,” Vince urged.
“No promises.” Spencer retorted as he lay
on his back, not even bothering to look at Vince.
“I don’t get it.” Vince began.
“You don’t get what?” Spencer asked.
“That elevator couldn’t have been in such
disrepair. Why did it fail?”
The word tasted like ash in their mouths,
but they said it nonetheless. “Sabotage.”
Spencer started to dig through the
equipment they were able to bring up the tower.
The crate held a flashlight, an extensive first aid
kit, and a Beretta with several clips. Spencer took
the gun, loaded it, grabbed the flashlight, and
pointed it up the shaft where the elevator had
failed. His examination revealed nothing.
Spencer turned back to Vince. “Let’s set
up.”
As the sun set Spencer and Vince took a
last look at their preparations and wondered if
would be enough. Then they looked around for
someplace to spend the night. The dining room at
the top of the tower was the most inviting option,
but was not suitable without a .50 caliber rifle
guarding the door. Spencer and Vince crashed in
different cushioned booths. They both lay in
silence for several minutes before exhaustion
took them and they both fell asleep.
Spencer woke up after what seemed like
several hours.
“Vince.” There was no reply. “Vince,”
Spencer repeated only to have silence reply.
“Masters. Where the hell are you?”
Spencer looked to where Vince had
passed out, but he was gone.
Probably just went
take a leak
, Spencer guessed. Spencer got up
from the booth; he was hungry and tired of the
MRE’s and hoped that there was some edible
food in the restaurant’s kitchen.
Strolling in, Spencer’s nostrils were filled
with the smell of freshly cooked food. The smells
meshed together in a pleasant way and made his
stomach rumble in anticipation. Parts of the smell
were distinguishable as cheese, chicken, fish, and
lobster among others.
Spencer found that some of the food had
gone bad, but some still looked somewhat edible
so he began to scrounge for what could pass as
edible. After twenty minutes, he was distracted
by a sound from the hallway. Spencer poked his
head out the door to see what it was. When he
didn’t see anything he went back to eating.
After another five minutes, he reached for
a salami roll and brought it to his mouth, his first
glance at the meat prior to biting into it made him
throw it across the kitchen in disgust, then turn
and vomit. It was an arm, a bloody severed arm.
A low growl interrupted him and he turned to see
a demon, seven feet tall, horns adorned his head
and wings were folded up behind his back. A
shrill scream rang from deep in his diaphragm
before he charged.
Spencer ran out the door towards the hall
leading to the freight elevator. Lying on the floor
next to the elevator was a human body. It was
Vince’s body. Blood coated the area like a small
indoor lake.
The demon burst through a wall in front
of Spencer within arms reach and grabbed his
neck.
“Why didn’t you try to stop me?” a voice
asked behind Spencer, it was his friend Eric.
“Why did you leave me?” a second voice
asked, it was Gretchen.
“You shouldn’t have gone to Dallas.
Lester and I would still be alive if you had gone
with us,” Louis’ voice mocked.
Then the demon held Spencer over the
gaping maw of the 1,100-foot deep elevator shaft
and slowly started to pull limbs off and drop
them down the shaft all while Spence screamed
in agony, and then the demon released Spencer’s
limbless torso to drop to the ground.
Spencer awoke screaming.
“Hey, Spencer, relax, you’re safe.” Vince
assured.
Spencer looked around and found himself
in the room he and Vince hid in the other night.
“You had a nightmare,” Vince explained.
“You’re not kidding,” Spencer cynically
replied.
“You kept calling a name,” Vince
declared.
Spencer’s ears perked up. “Oh?”
“You kept calling ‘Gretchen’, was she a
girlfriend?” Vince asked.
“It’s complicated,” Spencer deflected.
Vince looked interested.
“She was a survivor I found in North
Carolina. I lost her in New Mexico.”
“What happened?” Vince asked.
“We stopped for fuel and supplies, we got
separated. Then a horde of demons came to town,
I couldn’t find her anywhere. If I had stuck
around for another second I would have been
killed.” Spencer explained.
“Was she hot?” Vince asked, then
grimaced realizing that the question was
insensitive, Vince half-expected Spencer to
punch him in the face, but instead he nodded.
“So what’s the plan?” Vince asked
changing the subject.
“I don’t know.” Spencer admitted.
“You don’t know?” Vince demanded.
“As far as I know we are all that’s left of
the human race.”
“Are you suggesting we just commit
suicide?” Vince asked dubiously.
Spencer chewed on the thought of how it
would come then decided. “If I’m going to die, I
want to take as many of those bastards with as I
can.” Spencer hinted.
“How will we draw them in, and how will
we kill them all?” Vince asked.
“A nuclear bomb.” Spencer replied.
“You’re insane.” Vince concluded.
“Maybe, but what other options do we
have? I don’t want to be torn apart, do you?”
Spencer asked.
Vince shook his head. “Hell no, but I
don’t want to just quit.”
Spencer chuckled. “I used to think like
you. I give it two days then we’ll both be offering
to blow each other’s brains out.” Spencer said
darkly.