Hope and Undead Elvis (33 page)

She guided Josh's hand to the curve of her belly. His eyes widened as he felt the baby kick at her side. "That's amazing," he whispered.

His eyes rolled up from staring at her stomach to meet hers, and she saw something in them she'd never seen before. She knew what lust looked like, for she'd seen it every night on the stage in the eyes of the men with their dollars folded in little tents at the edge of the platforms. She knew the look of disdain from club owners as they handed over compensation for shifts, never enough and never without strings attached. She even recognized anger and hatred, which had been the most common glances she saw in her life. But this look had never been directed at her. The closest she could approximate was when Nur had looked at Rae.

Was this
love?

She couldn't tear her eyes away from his. Being
lost in his eyes
was a cliché phrase that belonged in a trashy romance novel, but for the first time in her life, Hope understood that the cliché was based in reality. She reached up to touch her hand to the side of his face. His beard was soft and tickled her palm. His hand came up as well, snaking around the back of her neck to twist his fingers into her hair.

He bent his head towards hers, and she tilted her chin up to welcome him.

A loud banging at the door made them both jump back like they'd scalded each other. "Hey, loverboy, you ain't getting' paid for pillow talk," called a rough voice. "Shoot your load and get the fuck out. Duce's orders."

Josh stood. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Lost track of the time."

"It's okay," said Hope. "I didn't mind at all." She held out her hand. "Help me up?"

He offered his hand to her and with a gentle tug, pulled her to her feet. "Be ready to go tomorrow morning. We'll get out of here. All of us."

Hope smiled at him. "That sounds lovely."

More banging at the door. "Hurry up, asshole."

"I'm coming!" called Josh.

"Better be in her, dumbass."

"I'm sorry they're such assholes," he said to Hope.

"It's okay. You're not like them, and I appreciate that."

"'Til tomorrow, then."

Hope took his head in her hands, pulled him down to her, and kissed him. His arms encircled her and they stood that way for a moment, melded together, their entire worlds shrunk down to only each other.

Then, looking a little surprised and pleased, and a bit out of breath, Josh pulled away and opened the door. Hope watched him leave and then hugged herself since he wasn't there to do it for her. He'd tasted like chocolate pudding.

He'd tasted like love.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Hope and the Wheelchair

Sometime in the morning, a loud bang echoed through the Casino, and the lights went out. With bright sunlight streaming in through her windows, Hope didn't notice the lack of electricity until she heard the fearful screams of residents in the darkened hallways, stairwells, and the gaming floor itself.

She felt her pulse quicken. Was this part of Josh's plan? She didn't have any personal effects in the room except her winter coat, which she shrugged into. She gave the room a quick once-over anyway to see if there was anything she felt she should take. There wasn't. She cracked open the door. One of the guards was gone, either on business or he'd abandoned his post. The other remained, but his attention was on the shadowy people staggering through the darkened hallway and the haze of smoke that filled the air.

"What is it? What's happened?" Hope asked him.

"I don't—Jesus, he really worked you over." The man gaped at her swollen, bruised cheek.

"I do what I'm told," said Josh as he came around the corner. He was pushing Margaret's wheelchair, but without Margaret in it. "And so should you, Brian. Shades needs manpower downstairs to fight the fire. Go help him."

"What about her?" Brian gestured to Hope.

"Duce wants me to take her to a safe place. He won't risk the baby."

"No, please," said Hope. "Don't make me go with him."

Brian looked doubtful, perhaps on the verge of disobeying a direct order. Hope wondered if she'd overdone the victim bit. All they needed was for him to get involved in some way, complicating Josh's plan.

"Brian," said Josh. "Downstairs. Now."

Brian shrugged and headed for the stairwell. He glanced back once. "Good luck with your baby," he said.

"Thanks," said Hope. She sank down into the wheelchair. "Where's Margaret?"

"She's waiting in your car," said Josh. He bent down and kissed her, hard and fast, with tender urgency. Then he handed the Shepherds' pistol to her. She checked it. There was only one bullet left. The other was missing. She wondered what had happened to it, and if it was the one Nur had given her or the one from the Shepherds. "I hope you don't have to use it."

"Me too. I don't like guns very much."

"Me either." Josh leaned against the wheelchair and started it rolling. "Doesn't stop me from carrying one."

"What happened downstairs?"

"A short and a fire. Shades has a crew fighting it."

"What about Undead Elvis?"

"Shades is getting him."

In the darkness of the Casino floor, Hope could see the shadows of people fighting each other over loose chips. Grudges were being settled behind the banks of silent slot machines. She could hear the thuds of fists on flesh, the wet slaps and stifled moans of women being brutalized, and the groans of men bleeding their life out onto the carpet. Hope shook her head. Duce's little capitalist empire had been so fragile that it had only taken the sudden onrushing darkness to bring the whole thing into collapse. She tried hard not to look too closely at what was going on around her as Josh wheeled her across the floor. She'd have enough nightmares to last her the rest of her life, but she had to get away, to the safety of Graceland so she could have her baby. The others in the Casino would have to sort themselves out.

She hoped the ones who survived wouldn't turn out to be the monsters.

A spectre materialized from the darkness to confront Josh and Hope. It was Chris, the sadistic man who Hope had seen watching over the basement work crews. His face was coated in a sheen of soot mixed with sweat. "Where's Shades?" he shouted over the noise in the Casino.

"Downstairs," said Josh.

Chris shook his head. "Haven't seen him since the fire started."

"He's in charge of the fire crew."

"I got news for you. Ain't nobody in charge down there, ‘cept maybe me."

"Then why are you up here?"

"Somebody's got to tell The Deuce what's going on."

"Tell me. I'm taking her to him now. I'll pass along your report so you can get back down there." He paused. "You better hope Shades isn't dead for all our sakes. He's the only one who can fix stuff down there."

Hope groaned. "Hurry. I think the baby's coming." She began breathing hard and fast.

Chris looked down at her, as if seeing her and her pregnancy for the first time. "Tell Duce that the junction box blew. Shit's burned and melted, and we got three, mebbe four dead workers. Fire's not too bad, but we might not have power for a long time. Longer if Shades ain't still suckin' air."

"All right, I'll pass it along," said Josh. "I've got to get her to safety."

Chris nodded and trotted off into the blackness.

"You're not really having the baby now, are you?" whispered Josh in Hope's ear.

"No," she said. "But that doesn't mean I couldn't. I'm getting close, Josh. We've got to go."

"We are."

He wheeled her off the Casino floor and up the ramp to the main lobby, which was abandoned except for a young couple huddled in the corner, comforting each other. Blood was streaming from the man's face and the girl was trying to staunch the flow with the sleeve of her blouse. She glanced behind her and locked eyes with Hope. An unspoken bond of sisterhood passed between the two, and Hope felt sudden kinship with this unknown, unnamed young woman who could easily have been herself had circumstances turned out different. Then Josh wheeled Hope up to the rotary glass door which led to the large carport in front of the Casino.

The Way was parked off to one side. Margaret sat in the passenger seat, holding Fidel. Hope could see his breath fogging up the back glass as he stared at the Casino with his intent, doggy gaze. Behind the beat-up El Camino, Hope saw a rusting pickup with a stained camper shell overhanging the sides, back, and roof. Despite the poor body condition, the wheels looked shiny and the tires looked new. "What's that truck?" she asked.

"That's Shades' truck," said Josh. "Your car doesn't have room for all of us. He said he wants to come with you. That's okay, right?"

"Yes. Yes, of course it is." Despite the misery contained within the walls of the Casino, Hope felt her spirits lift with the knowledge that her son would get to know his grandfather. "Where's D—I mean Shades?" She wasn't ready to disclose the relationship she had with the man who'd done Duce's dirty work in the basement.

Josh pushed the wheelchair through the door. A bracing, chilly breeze took Hope's breath away. Other people were staggering out of the Casino through side exits, pursued by clouds of smoke. Some were injured. Others looked like they'd barely escaped from their attackers. Most of them huddled together for warmth and for the closeness of companionship. "I don't know," said Josh. "And that's worrying me. He was supposed to get your friend freed after causing the distraction."

"I won't leave without them, so don't even suggest it," said Hope. "Help me out of this chair. I'm tired of being an invalid."

Josh locked the brake on the wheelchair and came around to give Hope a hand. He pulled her to a standing position. She overbalanced with her belly and lurched forward into his arms. "Careful," he said.

She looked up at him. His bearded face was honest and even kind of attractive in the same kind of way a quirky character actor's might be. The baby kicked, and Josh jumped a little as he felt it against his own belly. Hope laughed. "He says thank you. And so do I." She paused. "I think we'll be okay now."

Josh stepped back, blushing. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"That's all right. I don't mind." And Hope was surprised to realize she really didn't mind; even with his professionally-distant demeanor when she'd first arrived, he'd been nothing but friendly and polite with her.

"Hey," called Margaret from the passenger seat. "Will you two stop making out and get in the car already?" Fidel agreed, and barked at them.

"Once I sit down, I don't plan to get up anytime soon," said Hope. "And I'm not ready to go until Undead Elvis and my, um, and Shades are here." She leaned up against the cool sheet metal of the car's bed and wished she had something hot to drink despite her warm coat.

Josh wrestled with the wheelchair's locks and catches, trying to fold it up. "For God's sake, Josh, just give it here and I'll do it," said Margaret. She showed him how to release the central joints and compress the chair into its flattened state. "Put it in the back."

Hope noticed that Margaret had a rifle resting beside her legs in the passenger footwell. "You guys are expecting real trouble, aren't you?" she said in a soft voice.

"Yeah," said Josh. "The Deuce doesn't take well to things not going his way." He was looking more and more nervous with every passing minute. If he'd had a watch, Hope was sure he'd be checking it every few seconds. "Where the hell are they?"

Hope squeezed his hand. "Don't worry. They'll come along as soon as they're able."

"I wish I had your confidence."

"You don't get to where I am without believing in yourself. And in others," she said. "Once we get to Graceland, I'll tell you about my journey and you can tell me about yours."

"There's not much to tell about mine," said Josh. "I was just doing some maintenance work here in the Casino when the world took its big shit. I've been here ever since."

"What about before? What did you do? Did you have a family?" Hope knew that she had to get Josh's mind off the delay in Shades' and Undead Elvis' arrival before he lost his mind.

"I was in construction. Framing houses, mostly. Some interiors. No family. Just a string of unfulfilling short-term relationships."

Hope laughed. "Sounds like the life of a stripper. I can relate."

"I'll bet you were a hell of a stripper," said Josh. Then he blushed.

"I was. And still am." Hope smiled. "I'm just pregnant right now."

Fidel barked and stuck his nose out the window, his ears up like radar dishes and his nose quivering at what he'd seen.

Hope turned around and there he was, sauntering out of the Casino as if he had all the time in the world. Undead Elvis looked like he'd just stepped off the stage, all glistening bodysuit and sequins and perfect hair. Except for his bluish skin, he was still the very image of The King.

Hope waddled up to him as quick as she could and hugged him. "I'm so glad to see you."