Good Night, Vegas Lights

Chapter 21

  Nero had killer in his eyes, and Vincent knew that if he drew his own gun now he'd be dead before he could even line up a shot.
  "I do like you Vince, I really do. You were honestly a real good worker. Always knew who to listen too. Never asked any questions. You were even willing to do anything. You had it good for yourself Vincent. Oh well. You sure fucked that up."
Vince could see that Nero was fixing to pull the trigger, and he did something that surprised himself. He froze. The sound off a gun shot filled the lobby, and Vincent squeezed his eyes shut. Yet, he felt no pain in the following seconds. Instead he only heard something heavy hit the floor. When he opened his eyes, he seen Nero with a smug look on his face, and Shannon was on the floor with a puddle of red forming beneath her.
  "No..."
Nero let out a small laugh.
  "Ha! The dame took the bullet for her man! You don't see that too often."
Vincent ran to Shannon's side. There was pain in her eyes, and she trembled at his touch.
  "Why?! Why would you do this?!"
He yelled with force at Nero.
  "Hey, its not my fault. She stepped in front of ya."
  "You bastard!"
Vincent tried to pull Shannon's arm over his shoulder, but she was nothing more than dead weight. It was until now that he had nearly forgotten about the injury to his leg, because it was giving him hellish trouble as he tried to lift her. Nero watched the struggle with enjoyment. Vincent finally got Shannon to her feet, and allowed her to use him as a crutch. He didn't know how he'd be able to them out of the situation now. That was when his silent prayers were answered. By some off chance, the suite he had allowed to catch fire was directly above the lobby, and it ravaged the floor. A collection of smoldering rubble fell through the ceiling, right on top of Nero and his men. For a moment, Vincent once again stood still completely bewildered, but Shannon soon tapped his chest and pointed towards the only clear pathway towards the door. As he ran towards it, he noticed the glinting revolver lying on the floor, and right near it was Nero himself trapped under a piece of wood. Vincent grabbed the gun, his gun, and pointed it at Nero. He considered shooting him. It would certainly make the Mojave a better place, no doubt. With hat thought Vincent pulled the trigger, only to hear the unsatisfying click that told him the chamber was empty. He decided it wasn't worth it, and fled towards the door once more. Nero yelled behind them, something about cowardice, but Vincent ignored him as he pushed the doors open. The Strip was unchanged, other than the strange looks people had when they noticed Shannon's wounds. Vincent had no time to hesitate or explain, and he certainly didn't want the Omertas catching up with him. He sped towards Freeside, and once there, he quickly hid in the nearest alley. He allowed Shannon to lean against the wall as he attempted to look at her wound. Vincent wasn't a doctor by any means. He couldn't even find the source of the bleeding, as there was too much blood already for it to be found.
  "Shannon, we need to get you to a doctor..."
  "What... What about The Followers?"
Her words were labored.
  "They'll ask questions, and we'd be way to close to the Strip. Theres no doubt that the Omertas will check for us there first."
  "Yeah..."
  "Here,"
Vincent took Shannon's hand in his and showed her where to apply pressure.
  "Keep your hand right there."
  "Thank you.... Now where are we going?"
There was a certain someone that came to Vincent's mind. A certain someone that was involved in a faction that he swore to never be apart of again, however. Though he knew he'd more than likely be welcomed with open arms by them. By the Fiends of Vault 3. Before he spoke he helped Shannon get to her feet once again, and they started towards their destination.
  "I know someone, but you won't like it."
  "Who... And where?"
  "Uh... Lets just say outer-Vegas. And his name is Jacko."
Vincent knew he had to hurry if he wanted Shannon to make it. He also knew actually making it to the Vault would be more than challenging. After all, the Fiends that are outside the Vault of outside of it for a reason. They're the ones that have become so fried, theres no thoughts left to be had by them. Shannon's weight was beginning to weigh down on Vince. By the time he got to Freeside's gate, his leg was giving him hell again. As he pushed it open he muttered under his breath,
  "I hate that goddamn place..."
  "Vincent"
  "What?"
  "What about... Noah?"
Just his name made Vincent's blood boil. He had questions that needed to be answered.
  "Save your breath, I don't care about him. He said he'd wait at McCarran's gate for us. If your fine by tomorrow morning, I might go check for him. Lets just hope he keeps his word."
  "Cut him some slack-"
  "I said save your breath"
Vincent cut her off with a harsh tone, and she quickly ceased her talking. Though afterwards he regretted it. As they neared outer Vegas, Vince had to push through the ungodly burning that was consuming his leg. Eventually he had no choice but to stop and allow himself a moment's rest. He let Shannon lean against a broken wall along with himself.
  "How are you feeling?"
  "Oh just- peachy, Vincent"
  "Why did you do that?"
  "Do what? Save... Your life?"
She grunted with pain.
  "I told you if anything bad happened, run!"
  "Oh shush. I'm not letting you die. Plus where would I have ran to?"
He sighed before he responded.
  "Alright. Come on."
Vincent took the 9mm he had gotten from the locker before allowing Shannon to lean on him again. If only the revolver wasn't empty.