Chapter Thirty one
Johnny drove along the homage to gambling that was the Las Vegas Strip. He passed a pirate battle on a life-size model of a galleon outside a casino called ‘Treasure Island’. On the other side of the street ‘The Venetian’ hotel/casino was a mock-up of St Marks Square in Venice complete with tower, bridges and gondolas.
The place was thronging with tourists. What had happened a few miles away had not affected business here, thought Johnny. Superficial damage, nothing to interrupt the intake of money!
He had spent the night at a small hotel after being dropped off by a coach, organised by the authorities, which was taking flood victims to alternative accommodation. Many of the survivors were put up in temporary accommodation such as a large sports centre in Boulder City, but Johnny, along with many others, opted to pay for a hotel room.
The Las Vegas airport was closed to normal business due to the disaster; so Johnny had hired a car for the drive to Los Angeles and planned to get a flight back to the UK.
The Interstate 15 took him out of Las Vegas and into the desert where a hot sun hung in a whitish blue sky, and little, white clouds drifted lazily over the dusty terrain. He tried to keep thoughts of the previous day away, but they kept creeping into his mind. What would Erin do now? And was she right? Did he always put himself first?