Fall of the Mortals (Book 1) by Ken Bush Page A

immortal,” stated Curtis.
    “So, what’s your plan here, Harold?” asked Terry. “Looking to outlive these things in your tower or what?”
    Harold glanced at Shaun for a response.
    “We’re forming a plan to move to Vegas,” said Shaun.
    “Why Vegas?” asked Curtis.
    “Our supplies have a time limit,” Harold responded. “The day will come when this will no longer be a feasible arrangement.”
    “I spoke with someone in Vegas over the radio a couple months ago,” said Shaun. “There’s possibly survivors in the Stratosphere Casino.”
    “Stratosphere, huh?” Terry asked, glancing at Curtis with a creepy expression. “I hate to break it to ya, Shaun, but they’re dead.”
    “I knew it!” said Chris.
    “How do you know that, Terry?” asked Shaun.
    “Me and the boys have been there done that,” Terry explained. “We looked the place over a couple of months ago.”
    “Really? That’s about the last time I spoke with somebody,” said Shaun.
    Terry glanced at Curtis again with a suspicious look. Shaun picked up on their body language.
    “The guy I talked to said his name was Rick Mason. Sound familiar?” asked Shaun.
    “Nope,” said Terry, shaking his head.
    “We crashed every casino hotel on the old and new ends of the strip including the Rio and the Palms,” said Curtis. “There’s nothing there but death.”
    “A few slot machines still worked though,” said Trent, chuckling to himself. 
    Shaun looked at Harold, rubbing his chin, thinking for a moment.
    “Have you heard anything about the US government firing nuclear weapons at major cities?” asked Harold.
    “We heard a scrambled broadcast a few weeks ago about a final gathering in D.C.,” stated Terry.
    “What’s your take on it?” asked Harold.
    “Our take is unless you got a plane that’s going to fly you across the board in five hours, you might as well forget it,” said Terry. “With the vamps out there, it’s impossible to go anywhere, safely anyway.”
    “We’d be better off if the vamps took out the D.C. guys too and stopped them from launching anything,” Billy added with a smirk.
    “I hate the government,” Mark added. “Who cares about them anyway?”
    “What if they deploy from a submarine?” asked Shaun, trying to annoy the bikers’ mindset. He didn’t like their anti-government perspective, being a former police officer.
    Curtis chuckled at the fact Shaun wasn’t getting it.
    “Shaun. The point is the game is already over, bud. This is just an extended survivor exercise,” stated Terry. “There’s no getting out of here, plain and simple.”
    Shaun and Harold stared at Terry wishing he would have said something different.
    “Sorry people. As painstaking as it may seem, you’re better off hunkering down right here,” said Terry. “There’s nothing out there, man. Nothing.”
     “You’ll be staying with us, then?” asked Harold.
    “Harold,” said Terry, shaking his hand sincerely. “We’d be honored to be part of the family, if you’d have us.”
    Curtis and the crew smiled and fist bumped each other.
    Shaun grieved over Terry’s words. He was grateful for Terry and the others saving him and helping them get back to the tower that night but now their problems had multiplied. They now had seven more mouths to feed. Going to Vegas seemed bleak. Terry and the others were clearly unsupportive of leaving. It was as if they had already doomed themselves to an awful fate and they didn’t care.
    Shaun looked at the bikers closely and grew more uncomfortable. He noticed red-spotted rashes on the sides of Brody, Mark and Billy’s faces. There were also bags under their eyes shaded in blue and black. Trent kept scratching the side of his face repeatedly. He knew exactly what these signs were. He had seen them a million times before when he was a cop. Terry and his boys were drug abusers and were most likely methamphetamine or heroin addicts. He was saddened that there was no way he going to