Johnny walked around the front of the Land Rover and lifted the Desert Eagle and pointed it at the man. “Hold on there, Sport. How many people are in there with you?”
The man stopped walking, stunned that the help he’d expected had turned into something else. “We were in our room—asleep. They came. We could hear the screaming in the lobby. We kept our door shut. It was terrible—what’s wrong? I’m not one of those things!”
“Any cops here?” Johnny asked.
“What?”
“You know, security? Guys with fucking guns?” Johnny asked.
“I didn’t see any,” the man said.
“Where’s your wife?” Johnny asked.
“Room 214. She’s very ill—I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I need help—the things. It’s terrible what—”
“Help?” Johnny said.
“Can you take us to a doctor?” the man asked. He glanced at Bell and Lacy, looking to the two of them for help.
“Oh, a doctor. Sure.” Johnny said.
“Thank you. I told my wife that—”
A loud shot rang out. The high-velocity bullet hit the standing man dead in his face. It blew the back of his head off, knocking him backwards as if he’d been hit by a bat. The shot reverberated around them.
Lacy screamed and Bell grabbed her, turning her away from the awful sight of the man’s skull broken open and his jerking feet. The contents of his skull spilled across the ground behind him.
“See if he’s got a wallet,” Johnny said to Sue Ling.
The girl ran over to the dead man, rifled his jacket pockets and came up with a wallet and a cell phone.
“Bingo,” Johnny said. “It’s dog-eat-dog out here, baby. Now, you two want to live, go get some wallets. And meet us back here in in the lobby in an hour. And I’d watch out for the guy’s bitch. No doubt she’s one of them by now.”
“You’re a murderer,” Lacy said in a quiet, horrified voice, turning toward Johnny.
“You figure that out on your own?” Johnny said. “Damn, you’re a smart bitch.”
“Can’t do it without a weapon,” Bell said. “Those things could be anywhere around here.” He tried to keep the anger out of his voice.
“Go,” Johnny said. “Go now! Go and get me SOME FUCKING MONEY!”
Sue Ling ran over to her boyfriend and tossed him the dead man’s wallet. “One,” the girl said, smiling and seemingly unaffected by the brutal murder. The two hugged.
Bell saw the girl had a diamond belly button piercing when she reached up to kiss her boyfriend. She’s a psychopath, Bell thought.
“You’re both insane,” Lacy said.
“You get us ten thousand dollars cash, and we’ll take you to that ranch. That’s how insane we are,” Johnny said. “We’ll wait for you in the bar.”
Bell wondered why they’d been kept alive, and now he understood. It was dangerous going into the hotel. Why not send them in to do the dirty work? If they were killed, what would it matter?
“How do I know you won’t just kill us?” Bell said.
“Well, you don’t. Do you, Sport?” Johnny said.
“Give me a weapon and I’ll do it,” Bell said. “I’ll get you the money.”
“Okay. Give him the shotgun we got from the old guy’s place,” Johnny said.
Sue Ling looked at her boyfriend, thinking it might not be such a good idea.
“Go on! He’ll do it. I know his type. Military boy, he’ll do it. And he’ll wave the fucking flag while he’s doing it.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t let him kill you,” Sue Ling said, going to the back of the Land Rover. She ran with a semi-auto style shotgun over to Bell and smiled. “I think you’re cute, and I’ll get mad at him if he shoots you. Maybe we could have sex sometime?”
“Give him a whole box of shells—might as well,” Johnny said. Sue Ling dug out a box of shotgun shells and tossed them to Bell. Johnny hit the door lock on the Land Rover; its horn honked, signaling it was locked. Johnny motioned with his pistol for Bell and Lacy to walk in front of them and into the lobby.
Bell looked down at the dead man as he passed him. He began to load rounds into the fancy-looking twenty gauge as he walked into the brightly lit hotel lobby.
Bell looked out on the lit outdoor pool and large patio area. Some kind of party had been going on by the pool when the Howlers attacked. A band had been playing; a wooden dance floor had been erected over the middle of the large heated pool, steam coming off of its surface. Men’s and women’s bodies floated in the pool. Some of the band’s equipment had been tossed into the water during the fight with the Howlers. Bell saw a set of brass cymbals lying at the bottom of the deep end, surreal.
“We have to get away from them,” Lacy said behind him.
Bell turned around. “How? There’s two of them and they’re well-armed,” Bell said. And we need their car. All the cars in the parking lot have had their windows smashed—did you notice? We’d freeze in any one of them. Try calling your father. Tell him where we are. Tell him to come get us,” Bell said.
Lacy took out her cell phone and dialed her father’s number. “There’s no signal,” she said.
“We’ll go up to the top floor and try,” Bell said. “Maybe there’ll be a signal up there.”
“I’m scared, Ken,” Lacy said. It was the first time she’d used his name.
“Me too,” Bell said. He walked to where they’d set up the food service. The table had somehow survived the mayhem and was full of food. The food warmers were still on, as were the gas heaters around the pool’s verge, their gas elements glowing blue-orange.
“Let’s eat something. Then we’ll go up on the roof.”
“I can’t,” Lacy said. “Eat, I mean.”
“Eat something. If we’re going to make it out of this, we have to eat,” Bell said. He was contemplating going down to the bar and killing the two. But he was afraid that if he failed, Lacy would be alone and doomed. He made a sandwich out of French bread and cheese and began to eat ravenously while looking for a beer. He found the drinks and opened a beer and guzzled it. Lacy looked at him. He realized he’d not eaten much of anything since that morning more than twelve hours ago, and what seemed like a lifetime now. He looked at his watch; it was 3:00 in the morning.
Lacy walked toward the food and picked up a piece of French bread.
“Put some protein on it,” Bell said. She did what he said. “And drink something, too.” He put down the shotgun and sat down on an Adirondack chair and looked out at the pool floating with debris and dead bodies, some of them bleeding into the water. It was only yesterday, he realized, that the world had been totally normal. He’d been planning a trip with his brother. They were going to meet in Scottsdale and watch the Giants play their first spring training game.
“Are they everywhere?” Lacy said. She came and sat on a chaise longue next to him. A pretty girl had been beaten with an ice bucket and was lying a few feet away, her chest having been bashed in with an electric guitar lying near her. Lacy turned away, looking for something to look at that wouldn’t sicken her.
“I don’t know,” Bell said. He picked up the beer and drained it. The alcohol made him feel better, looser and almost normal. He was physically exhausted in a way he’d never been before. It was as if he weighed 300 pounds. He made another sandwich and ate it, then another. While he ate the third one, he went around to the dead bodies and began to rifle purses and men’s pants pockets, looking for their wallets.