Desolation

CHAPTER TWELVE

Monday, November 11

Monroe County Administration Offices

Key West

It was early on that Monday morning when Sheriff Jock Daly entered the Monroe County Administration building for his official weekly briefing with Mayor Lindsey Free. Old habits never die despite the apocalypse. Each Monday, the sheriff met with the mayor and key members of her staff to discuss law enforcement or safety issues affecting the county. Despite the seven-day workweeks, the tradition continued.

Of course, this early morning gathering was a mere formality. It was primarily designed to be an exercise to lend the appearance of continuity, thus providing the staff a sense of normalcy. The real decision-making between the sheriff and the mayor took place during their unofficial briefings that consisted of drinks, sex, and pillow talk that invariably led to their plans for the county.

“Let’s get down to business,” began Lindsey as she set her coffee mug down amidst stacks of files. She’d stayed in her office late the night before, perusing tax and deed records of business owners in Key West. She was ready to begin her confiscation program, and that required a list of targets.

A political animal by nature, Lindsey created a sliding scale of each targeted business based upon a number of factors that included type of product as well as logistical matters such as storage and distribution to the people. Then there were the political considerations. Which of the businesses were deemed political enemies, and which ones, such as heavy donors to her campaign, would be given a pass. The legal pad she’d been working on had been marked through, erased, and pages crumpled until a final working document had been created. She’d turned it over to her secretary the moment she walked in the door.

In attendance was Lindsey’s mayor pro tem, Paul Robinson, the oldest county commissioner and also a former political rival for the job of mayor. Lindsey and Robinson were closely aligned and saw eye to eye on almost every issue facing the county. When she’d defeated him in her first primary run, he agreed to take a back seat to the more vivacious Lindsey. He played an important role in keeping the other three county commissioners in line. He provided her an update on the cleanup activities following the storm.

“That hurricane left the middle and upper keys in shambles,” he began. Robinson’s District 2 included Marathon and, therefore, Driftwood Key. “From Tavernier to Key Largo, I’ve seen damage that rivals anything that’s occurred in the Keys since I’ve been in office. For the moment, the hospitals are holding their own, but generator fuel will soon become an issue. My biggest concern will be refilling the fuel tanks, which are slated to run out within eighteen to twenty days, in the only operating medical facilities.”

“Paul, this briefing will address that issue in a moment,” said Lindsey. “What about cleanup?”

“It’s an all-volunteer effort,” replied Robinson. “County work crews have been redirected to Key West at your request. They have begun the task of removing stalled vehicles from the streets and impounding them in the hotel parking lots as you requested on Saturday. Also, debris is being removed at the same time. The goal is to have Key West cleared by this evening. Tomorrow, we’ll move on to Stock Island, Boca Chica, Big Coppitt, and so on. The task will become less daunting as we make our way up U.S. 1.”

“When will you be able to tackle Seven Mile Bridge?” asked Lindsey.

“By week’s end, barring unforeseen intervening circumstances.”

“Good, thank you,” said Lindsey with a nod to her most loyal commissioner. She turned to the sheriff. “Jock, are your people ready?”

“We are,” he replied. He allowed a sly grin as he spoke. “I got an early start this morning and met with my key personnel. It should go as planned, assuming, of course, no resistance.”

Lindsey was well aware what time Jock had gotten started that morning. They had been in bed together.

“As we exercise our authority under the two martial law declarations, the president’s and our own, we face several challenges. Clearly, some of these business owners will take exception to our actions, as will the citizens whose property will be affected by this.

“My priorities will focus on water, food, medical supplies, and anything that might generate power for our governmental facilities. That includes everything from batteries for flashlights to generators and the fuel required to run them.”

“I brought up the issue of fuel for the hospital generators,” interrupted Robinson. “It’s my understanding the gas stations have run dry.”

The sheriff addressed the logistics of fuel confiscation. “That is correct. As the crisis hit, motorists either filled up to evacuate the Keys or some simply topped off their tanks so they could have more gasoline than the next guy. The first thing we plan on doing is to siphon gas out of any stalled or abandoned vehicles. Next, we’ll go door-to-door to extract fuel from the vehicles of those who filled up unnecessarily.”

“How do you siphon fuel out of newer vehicles?” asked Robinson.

“I’ve discussed this with the head of the county’s maintenance department,” began Jock in reply. “New cars and trucks are equipped with an anti-rollover valve that acts as a siphon-prevention system. I asked him if a workaround would be to drill a hole in the gas tank and allow the fuel to trickle into a pan. He said that would not only be slow, but it could also result in an explosion of the gas tank during the drilling process.

“He said the trick is to use a small-diameter hose that can pass through the ball or butterfly valve, as the case may be, to enter the gas tank. He’s experimented with a quarter-inch-diameter rigid line like what’s used for the water supply of a refrigerator. With the use of an electric pump, a twenty-gallon tank can be emptied in minutes.”

“Do we have these electric pumps?” asked Robinson.

Jock nodded as he sipped his coffee. He was slightly hungover and sleep deprived. Coffee was all the fuel he needed to recover. “All of our emergency trucks assigned to the fire department have as standard equipment a twelve-volt transfer pump that’s used for a variety of rescue operations. We have teams trained and ready to empty the tanks of every vehicle in the Keys if necessary to keep our facilities operating until power is restored.”

“When might that be?” asked Lindsey’s chief of staff.

“Hard to determine,” replied Jock. “That’s why we’re taking these steps to become self-sufficient.”

“People aren’t gonna be happy,” she added, drawing a harsh look from her boss.

“We’ve been over this,” Lindsey snapped at her top aide. “People don’t know what’s best for them until they see the results of our actions. Then they thank us. In the meantime, we have to make the hard choices necessary to protect them.”

Jock continued. “We’re well aware there might be resistance. We’ve assigned a protection unit to each wrecker crew and fuel-siphoning team. Our deputies will be outfitted in full SWAT gear and armed with automatic weapons.”

Lindsey interjected some statistics. “Thank goodness we fought back any talk of open-carry laws in the Keys. Less than ten percent of Key West residents have a concealed-carry permit. That’s slightly higher in the Middle and Upper Keys.”

The sheriff expanded on her thought. “Well, it didn’t get any easier for us when the stand your ground challenges hit the media years ago. Everyone began to concoct a justifiable reason to sit on their porches with a shotgun in their laps. There’s a fine line between defending themselves from a real threat and brandishing their weapons to appear to be a tough guy.”

Mayor pro tem Robinson scowled as he raised another issue. “Lindsey, this may be a sensitive issue, but I couldn’t help but notice Chief Rainey hasn’t attended our last two briefings.” Walter Rainey was the Key West chief of police.

Lindsey quickly responded, “Our plans don’t involve him, nor do they require his approval. I had a conversation with the chief, and he fully understands his role.”

“Which is?” asked Robinson.

“Stay out of my way.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Monday, November 11

Driftwood Key

Erin was the first to rise that morning. With Phoebe still at the hospital caring for her son, she felt comfortable making her way downstairs to start the coffee. When she arrived in the kitchen, she noticed the lights had been turned on, and there was evidence someone had enjoyed a bowl of cereal made with powdered milk. She realized Tucker must’ve completed his guard duty and had been replaced by someone else.

As the coffee brewed, Erin began to wonder if she’d thrust too much on Hank and his family last night. The conversation had seemed to wane after she’d dropped the bombshell, and within minutes, everyone had finished their drinks before going to bed.

She poured a mug of black coffee and gently blew on it to cool it off. She thought about the big picture. Had she used the suggestion as an excuse to get out from under the thumb of a president who was done with her? Was it a ploy to get closer to Hank? Maybe all of the above?

Before they retired for the evening, Hank had asked if she’d ride with him to the hospital this morning to see how Jimmy was doing. She suggested a change of clothes for the Frees as well as Jimmy, assuming he’d be released once he’d sufficiently recovered. Hank seemed to appreciate the thought, and they said their goodnights.

Erin had tossed and turned for an hour before drifting off to sleep. She’d replayed the entire conversation, more than once, in an attempt to discern where everyone stood. Once they were on the road to the hospital, she intended to broach the subject again.

Hank was the next to awaken. “The smell of coffee floating through the inn is far better than a noisy rooster, don’t you think?”

He was in a cheery mood, much to the relief of Erin, who was deep in thought, nervously anticipating a contentious conversation that morning.

“Hey,” she greeted. “I hope my shuffling around the kitchen didn’t wake you.”

“Nah, not at all. I have one of those biological alarm clocks that never fails me. You could throw me out of a plane in New Zealand, and I’d still wake up at the same time.”

Erin poured a mug for Hank. “Black, right?” she asked as she handed it to him.

“You remembered.”

“We both take our coffee the same way.”

Hank took a sip and smiled. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great. It was a little different being in the main house compared to the bungalow I had. It was, well, homey.”

“Like part of the family?” Hank studied her face.

Erin blushed and nodded. “Yeah, unless you kick me out after last night.”

Hank laughed. “Kick you out because the president sent you to displace Lindsey and replace her with me? Nah. That’s not a good enough reason. If you snored really loud, then maybe we’d have to talk.”

Erin laughed, mostly out of relief that she wasn’t in the doghouse with Hank. “Even if I did snore, you wouldn’t know it over your brother the freight train.”

“Oh yeah, trust me, when Mike’s had a few drinks, the snoring is unbearable. Jessica sleeps with earplugs, you know.”

“God bless her,” said Erin with a chuckle. She took a deep breath and continued. “Listen, about last night. I feel like I should explain where I was—” Erin stopped as Jessica and Lacey entered the back door leading into the kitchen from outside.

“Yes! I told you, Lacey!” exclaimed Jessica, who made a beeline for the coffee pot.

Hank was puzzled. “Jessica, have you been on watch? It’s not your turn.”

“Mike’s snoring was unbearable. Even with my earplugs and constantly telling him to roll over, I couldn’t sleep. I caught up with Lacey a couple of hours ago.”

Hank and Erin laughed together. “Have some coffee,” Hank offered. “We’re going to gather a change of clothes for those guys and visit with Jimmy for a while.”

Lacey and Jessica filled up two Tervis Tumblers with coffee. They joked about how they never expected to use the insulated drinkware for anything other than something iced and refreshing.

They spoke for another minute and then pulled surgical masks over their faces to return outside. Jessica had picked up a box of a hundred when she was at the hospital the other day. It was the kind of privileges she enjoyed as an MCSO paramedic. The group agreed the masks made sense as the atmosphere thickened with soot.

Hank turned to Erin. “That looked like a good idea. Would you mind fixin’ us a couple of roadies while I head over to the Frees’ cottage. I’ll fill a duffel bag with clothes and toiletries so they can freshen up.”

“Are you hungry? I found a box of blueberry Pop-Tarts. It seems Phoebe stocked up on them.”

Hank laughed as he pulled his tee shirt over his mouth and nose. “I can’t think of a better food to have during the apocalypse. I’ll be right back, or you can meet me at the truck.”

“Which one? You’ve added some vehicles since I was here last.”

“The Suburban. It was a drug seizure that Mike, um, requisitioned. He really took it to load a bunch of stuff for us.”

“From the sheriff’s department?”

“Yeah, I’ll explain on the way to the hospital.”

Hank left, and Erin scooted around the kitchen, fixing them coffee for the trip and making a fresh pot for Peter and Mike, who were both still sleeping. She was anxious to spend some time talking with Peter. She knew of him because of his position with the Washington Times and the terrorist attack in Abu Dhabi. They’d never crossed paths because he covered a different department than hers. However, she imagined he’d have some insight into what had happened that might assist her in moving forward.

Ten minutes later, Hank wheeled the long Chevy Suburban off Driftwood Key and onto the Overseas Highway. The sky was illuminated by the sun’s rays that tried desperately to poke through the haze of nuclear winter. It was bright enough to get a look at the devastation they had been unable to see in the darkness when they’d driven back and forth to the hospital the other day.

“This is devastating, Hank. It’s comparable to the damage I’ve witnessed in the Midwest following a tornado.”

“They had no warning,” he said with a grim look on his face. He had to focus on the road because of the stalled vehicles and occasional debris. However, he couldn’t take his eyes off the results of the furious storm. “Jessica and I were at the hospital with Mike as it started to move onshore. Fortunately, Sonny has a nose for these things. He began to button up Driftwood Key at the first signs of the hurricane. By the time we got there, he and Phoebe were almost finished.”

Erin shook her head in disbelief. “They’re remarkable people. Unselfish, too. With their son missing, they put aside their personal feelings to protect everything.”

“They’re a part of our family, Erin. We all grew up together and spend virtually every waking moment with one another. That’s why Jimmy is so special to me. He’s like a son in all respects.”

Hank wiped a tear from his eye and turned away to hide his emotions. Erin noticed his change in demeanor and rubbed his shoulders. She offered some words of comfort.

“I believe he’s going to be okay, Hank. I was very impressed with his doctor and the rest of the medical team. Considering what’s going on, they’ve managed to help people under unprecedented, adverse conditions.”

Hank raised his eyebrows and nodded in agreement. “This is part of what bothers me about Lindsey’s decision to blow up the bridges. I’m sure the president tried to defuse the situation first. I can’t disagree with her decision to send nonresidents off the Keys. And I certainly see why keeping outsiders on the mainland made sense. It just seems like there was a better approach than cutting us off from the world.”

“Agreed,” Erin interjected before Hank finished his thought.

“How are we gonna resupply our hospitals? There will come a point in time when we’ll need to look to the federal government for assistance. One of the functions they perform is to help the country when an unprecedented catastrophic event like this one occurs.”

“Hank, that’s why I’m here. I took a chance that you could lead the charge to stop this madness. Can you imagine what this mayor is capable of? I mean, she ordered the demolition of two major roads. People died on the Overseas Highway as a result. Jimmy would have if it hadn’t been for your son’s heroics.”

Hank continued to steer with both hands, but he raised his fingers as he shrugged. “She’s always had a conniving streak although I’ve always believed she had her constituents’ best interests at heart. She seems to have let this crisis go to her head.”

Erin pointed toward a car that had been set on fire since they’d driven by there the night before. It had burned itself out and continued to smolder. Hank slowed to get a long look before leaving Marathon and heading onto Vaca Key.

She turned in her seat to address him. “You’ve heard the saying power corrupts but absolute power corrupts absolutely, right?”

“Yes. As a politician’s authority increases, their sense of morality decreases.”

“Exactly. All of them are guilty of that. Never let them try to convince you otherwise. Politicians have a strong sense of preservation. They’ll use any catastrophe to better their position in the eyes of voters or to thrust themselves onto the national stage. In the case of your mayor, you need to watch for self-dealing. There are no political brass rings for her to grab like state senate or even Congress. Therefore, she can ensure her survival, as well as the survival of her political cronies.”

Hank shook his head from side to side. “You nailed it, Erin. That’s always been Lindsey in a nutshell. Every decision she makes has an element of subterfuge in it. She will always do what’s best for her.”

“Can you see how that approach will make any recovery effort in the Keys untenable? It will instantly divide the residents into those close to the mayor and those who are not. Kiss the ring or suffer the consequences. Make no mistake, her actions are not about helping the most people. Sure, they’ll get tossed a few crumbs. The real beneficiaries of her overreach will be those within her inner circle and the minions she requires to carry out her directives.”

Hank tapped the steering wheel with his fingers as he fell deep into thought. Finally, he asked a rhetorical question. “I wonder if we could secede from the Keys by blowing up the bridge to Driftwood Key.”

The two got a hearty laugh out of the idea until they grew silent. Neither imagined this conversation would resume very soon as it applied to Marathon.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Monday, November 11

Mariner’s Hospital

Tavernier, Florida

“Wow! Look at you!” exclaimed Hank as he entered Jimmy’s hospital room. He was still assigned to trauma eight but, apparently, not for long. His expression of surprise was genuine. Jimmy was sitting upright in bed, flanked by his parents on both sides resting comfortably in padded chairs. Jimmy had a plastic cup of water in front of him on a tray as well as a bowl of Jell-O, the preferred cuisine of every hospital chef.

“Hi, Mr. Hank,” said Jimmy in a loud whisper. “I lost my voice.”

“Peter’s the same way,” Hank said as he quickly moved to hug Phoebe, who was grinning from ear to ear. “He’s getting better every hour, it seems.”

“Me too,” said Jimmy as he accepted a gentle hug from Hank. He turned his eyes toward Erin. It took him a moment before he recognized her. “You’re back.”

“I am and so are you, obviously. You’re looking good, Jimmy.”

He continued to whisper, mouthing some of the words as he spoke. “Feel better, too. I’m ready to leave.”

Sonny stood, and Erin presented him with a duffel bag. “Hank picked out a change of clothes for you guys and something to freshen up,” she said as she looked from one parent to the other. Then she turned to Jimmy. “And, based upon the way you’re recovering, some jeans and a sweatshirt for you.”

“I hope they fit,” added Phoebe. “The doctor told us Jimmy likely lost a lot of weight. We have to monitor his food intake and keep him hydrated. He should be back to normal eating habits in a week or so.”

Hank’s face reflected his good mood. “Does this mean he’s being released?”

“Actually, we’re all watching that clock,” replied Sonny, pointing at a basic black-rimmed, white-faced wall clock. The red second hand steadily wound its way around the face. “At noon, the doctor will return to check Jimmy’s vitals and, with a little luck, release him with some detailed instructions for us to follow. Having Jessica at Driftwood Key was a major factor in Jimmy’s early release. They have a lot of respect for her around here.”

“She’s earned it, and we’re fortunate to have her in our family,” said Hank. He then gently squeezed Jimmy’s shoulder. “Just like we’re very lucky to have you as well.”

Jimmy smiled and nodded. Then he asked, “How is Peter?”

“Let me put it this way,” began Hank in response. “He’s about twenty-four hours better than you are. I’ll let him tell you what happened after he discovered you were missing. He’s still recovering from dehydration and muscle soreness. His voice is raspy but stronger, as I said. His face wasn’t beat up like yours, however.”

Jimmy slowly raised his hands to his face to feel the wounds that had opened up due to the constant exposure to salt water. “I had these before I got lost.” He immediately regretted whispering the truth in his parents’ presence.

“What do you mean, son? Was this from the fall?”

“Um, no. The CIA guy did this. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Phoebe and Sonny exchanged glances before looking toward Erin. She worked for the federal government, making her the closest available target for their ire.

She made a hollow promise that she hoped she could keep. “Let’s get you well. Once you feel better, I want you and Peter to tell me every detail of what happened. It seems there was wrongdoing on both sides of that bridge.”

Jimmy nodded, and the Frees let it go, for now. While they took turns in the bathroom, changing clothes and freshening up, the group engaged in small talk. After visiting for twenty minutes, Hank and Erin excused themselves. Hank wanted to look up an acquaintance who worked in hospital administration.

He and Erin took the stairs to the top floor of the hospital and then made their way to the administrative offices. The hospital administrator, who lived in Coral Gables, was assigned to two facilities within the Baptist Health system. He was rarely in the hospital, leaving the majority of the hospital administrative duties to his second in charge, Jeff Freeman. Freeman was the son of another resort owner located in Marathon. He was Mike’s age, so Hank didn’t know him all that well. However, they were friendly enough for what Hank wanted to discuss.

Hank was told by Freeman’s secretary that he was in a conference. Hank explained to her who he was and then introduced Erin as the Secretary of Agriculture. With that information in hand, she gently knocked on her boss’s door and slipped inside for a moment to explain Hank’s arrival. Seconds later, he and Erin were invited into Freeman’s office, where he was meeting with another familiar face.

“Hey, this is a helluva surprise, Hank!” greeted Freeman heartily. He hoisted his heavy frame out of a side chair where he’d been talking with his guest. “I never expected you to set foot off Driftwood Key with all of this going on.” He waved his arms as he spoke.

“Hi, Jeff. I have Sonny Free’s son, Jimmy, downstairs in your trauma wing. He almost drowned the other day.”

“Oh, geez. I had no idea. Is there anything I can do?”

“Nope. He’s recovering nicely, thanks to your staff. With fingers crossed, we hope he’ll be released this afternoon.”

Freeman turned to his other guest, who was now standing. “I think you know Bud Marino. He owns the café and marina in Islamorada.”

“Of course, Commissioner.”

“Yeah, that too,” said Marino with a chuckle. “Lately, Jeff introduces me as the restaurant guy or marina operator. He tries not to tell everyone I’m the district five commissioner. They might jump me or worse.”

“I know the feeling,” added Erin.

“Guys, this is Erin Bergmann, our—” Hank began to make the introductions when Marino interrupted her.

“No introduction necessary, Hank. Madam Secretary, it’s an honor, for the second time, actually.”

“Oh?” Erin asked.

“We met at a fundraiser for the governor years ago. I was impressed when the president chose you for Agriculture. I thought for sure Transportation would have been a better fit. You know, don’t get me wrong.”

“You’re correct, the Department of Transportation was where I belonged. I took Agriculture because I saw it as an opportunity to help Florida orange growers and farmers. I was making some real progress with Congress until Iran and Israel started firing nukes at one another.”

Freeman’s secretary reentered the room with a tray of canned drinks ranging from soda to fruit juices. All were chilled. Each of them grabbed a drink of choice, popped the top, and got comfortable.

Freeman spoke first. “Madam Secretary, I must say—”

“Erin, please. I’m not in the Keys on official business, and the whole Madam Secretary thing made me feel like some television character anyway.”

“Okay, Erin,” said Freeman. He pointed at Hank. “How do you know this guy? I can safely say he is the most well-known, yet elusive character in all the Keys.”

“Well, long story short. I was staying at the inn as the bombs were exchanged in the Middle East.” She glanced over at Hank as she recalled the memorable day together on his Hatteras. “He was kind enough to take me fishing when the Secret Service found us. I’d been summoned back to Washington. I barely made it back in time to enter the underground facility at Mount Weather before we were attacked.”

Marino asked, “May we assume that the attacks are over since you’ve been allowed to leave the bunker?”

She nodded before she responded, “The president has reasonable assurance from China and Russia that they will not initiate hostilities against us. I believe that to be true as well.”

“What about Iran or North Korea?” asked Freeman.

“Let’s just say they are no longer capable of initiating a nuclear attack. They couldn’t fire a BB gun at a squirrel at this point.”

The two men exchanged glances. Their expressions indicated they got the visual.

“Jeff, I wanted to stop by and see how things are going for you,” began Hank. “The realities of the importance of our health care system continuing to function hit home when my brother was attacked by a knife-wielding maniac, and now Jimmy nearly drowned. Are you going to be able to continue your operations?”

Freeman sighed and leaned back in his chair. Interestingly, Marino mimicked his reaction to the question.

“Ironically, we were just discussing that very subject,” replied Freeman. He looked over at his other guest. “May I speak freely with Hank and Erin?”

Marino held up his index finger, indicating Freeman should wait just a moment. He turned to Hank. “If I’m not mistaken, Lindsey was married to Sonny’s brother, am I right?”

“Yes, divorced,” replied Hank before continuing. “And, let me add, not on good terms. I hope this doesn’t offend either of you, but Lindsey and I are not on the best of terms either. To be honest, she bullied me into including Jimmy on her faux-deputy detail at the bridge checkpoints. That’s how he got hurt.”

Marino looked at Freeman and nodded.

Freeman explained, “There’s a lot of concern within the Keys that Lindsey is mismanaging this crisis. For one, the concept of transparency has become totally lost on her. She’s excluded people who would ordinarily be a voice of reason. She’s surrounded herself totally with loyalists who wouldn’t dare disagree with her.”

Erin thought to herself, Sounds familiar.

Marino interjected, “Our regular council meetings have been cancelled until further notice. I still have a few little birdies running around the admin building in Key West who get messages to me by various methods. It appears the mayor pro tem and the sheriff are in. I and the other two commissioners are on the outs.”

Hank asked, “What do you mean by that? The decision-making process?”

“Yes, among other things. Here’s an example. Supposedly, according to a couple of friendly maintenance personnel, Lindsey has ordered a cleanup of Key West. Now, I can’t argue with that. We’re doing the same in the Upper Keys. However, she’s going one step further. She’s starting by moving vehicles into newly created impound lots, and she’s ordered the maintenance department to drain their gasoline. After that, she’s gonna send maintenance personnel to every house with a parked car to drain their tanks as well.”

“People will pitch a fit,” said Hank.

“They’re going to be accompanied by SWAT,” added Marino. “She means business.”

Freeman sat up in his chair and leaned forward to the edge. “Here’s the thing, Hank. Our hospital will possibly be the beneficiary of these actions. I assume so, anyway. We need gasoline to run our generators. Without a refill, we’ll run out in a couple of weeks. Without a bridge to the mainland, we don’t have a way to call Tallahassee for help.

“That said, I’ve got a real problem with her stealing gasoline from people. I know. I know. Harsh words, but it’s how I feel.”

“As do I and many others like me,” said Marino.

Hank thought a moment. These two influential people in the Upper Keys could be an asset. But he needed help in laying the groundwork to execute Erin’s plan.

“Bud, where does the county attorney stand in all of this?” he asked.

“True blue friend of the mayor. Hell, he drafted the executive order declaring her to be Queen of the Keys.”

Hank grimaced.

Freeman was curious. “Why do you ask?”

“I need someone who knows the county’s charter documents together with any recent amendments. I need to see what our options might be in dealing with our not-so-friendly mayor.”

“Well, that’s an easy one, Hank. Do you remember Cheryl Morton? Her family was one of the original conchs who developed Vaca Key.”

“Yes, of course,” responded Hank. “She was the county attorney for years. Lives on Morton Street, her family’s namesake.”

Marino perked up. “Drop in on her. I’ll arrange to have my set of all the county’s governing documents, including current versions of Lindsey’s recent EOs, sent to her home. I see where you’re headed with this, and let me say, unofficially, you know, between us, I’m on board.”

“Count me in, too,” said Freeman.

The group chatted for a moment, and Hank glanced over at the clock on Freeman’s desk. It was approaching noon, and he wanted to be in Jimmy’s room when the doctor came. Besides, he got more than he’d hoped for in the chance meeting with Freeman and Marino.

He escorted Erin out of the hospital administration suite of offices and into the stairwell. Once the door was closed, she grasped him by the arm and spontaneously kissed him.

“Hank, you’re a natural. You’re keen. Intuitive. A great listener and very analytical.”

He didn’t hear a word she said. All he could think about was her kiss.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Monday, November 11

U.S. Army War College

Carlisle Barracks

Carlisle, Pennsylvania

The federal government was never known for doing anything efficiently or speedily. However, when President Carter Helton became singularly focused on reestablishing the seat of government in a location above ground, the logistics arms of government moved with lightning-fast speed.

Within a week of making the move to the U.S. Army War College in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, a small town of twenty thousand people located two hours west of Philadelphia, all three branches of government had found new homes.

Ultimately, President Helton’s plan was to formally relocate the nation’s capital to Philadelphia, where it had been temporarily seated from 1790 to 1800 while Washington, DC, was being built.

Philadelphia was one of eight forgotten capitals of the United States. In 1774, the Continental Congress met inside Carpenter’s Hall in Philadelphia. Just two years later, it reconvened in Independence Hall, where it adopted the Declaration of Independence. Thereafter, as the Revolutionary War raged on and various skirmishes with the British continued, other locations had been adopted on a temporary basis to protect the fledgling government.

Locations included Baltimore near the end of 1776 when the British were closing in on Philadelphia. In 1777, the enemy was once again closing in on Philadelphia, forcing the city to be evacuated. If for only a day, the nation’s government operated out of the Lancaster County courthouse in the heart of Amish country.

As the conflict with Great Britain stretched into the end of the century, York, Pennsylvania, Annapolis, Maryland, New York City, and two New Jersey locations, Trenton and Princeton, all claimed the moniker America’s capital.

The president, a native Pennsylvanian, relished the opportunity to bring the nation’s capital back to Philadelphia. After the crisis passed, he expected there to be calls for a return to Washington. He’d already heard whispers and murmurs within the confines of Mount Weather that DC should be restored and rebuilt. He had other plans.

Because the District of Columbia had been ground zero for a nuclear detonation, he intended to have his Environmental Protection Agency administrator declare it to be too dangerous for full-time residents or office workers. He hoped to rally support for making the former capital a war memorial.

These were just a few of the many ways President Helton hoped to remake America in his vision. He dreamed of leaving multiple lasting legacies so his presidency would be remembered for centuries. One legacy he didn’t want associated with his presidency was a perception of weakness because the likes of Texas and the Florida Keys had the audacity to turn their backs on their fellow Americans.

Legacies aside, the president was also presiding over the largest loss of life in the history of mankind. No war. No pandemic. No natural disaster had ever caused this many deaths so quickly.

As the scientists explained it, the onset of nuclear winter was akin to the eruption of one of the world’s supervolcanoes. The out-of-control fires polluted the atmosphere in a way carbon emissions from vehicles never could. Just like the models depicting an eruption of the Yellowstone supervolcano, nuclear winter resulted in an unparalleled environmental catastrophe.

That morning, the president had been informed of a new threat as he tried to look forward to spring and a new growing season. The scientists had referred to this threat as zombie fires. Due to the rapidly cooling temperatures, snow had already begun to blanket the upper latitudes of the Northern Hemisphere. The wildfires generated by the nuclear attacks had not been extinguished. Beneath the layer of fresh snow, the fires continued to smolder underground, chewing through carbon-rich peat.

The president was advised that in the spring, as the Earth thawed from the throes of what portended to be a brutal winter, these fires would reanimate. Geologists and scientists at the United States Geological Survey used available satellite data and reporting on the ground to develop an algorithm that could detect where the fires were still smoldering under the snow falling atop the ground. A heat map was generated, indicating thirty-eight percent of the land mass surrounding the current blazes would reignite, and there was nothing man could do to stop it.

The president had intended that morning’s briefing to be a strategic planning session. He wanted to establish some form of timeline for the recovery. To the best of his ability, he wanted to disseminate to the media and the American people what to expect as they moved forward. By the time the scientists were finished, he’d wanted to bolt out of the room and find a stiff drink, regardless of the early hour.

The briefing was coming to a close when the FEMA director announced their findings on the death toll estimates. It had been twenty-five days since the Iranians had fired the first nuclear missile at Israel. Their actions had triggered the nuclear war that went on for days, culminating with the attacks on the United States on day seven.

By that time, the climatic effect of nuclear winter had already reached America’s shores. The detonations on the East and West Coast only accelerated the disaster. However, it was the EMP effect of the nuclear detonations coupled with the subsequent overload of the nation’s Eastern and Western Interconnection, the power grid, that exacerbated the catastrophe.

The onset of nuclear winter was a long-term problem that was expected to last a decade. Its impact on sources of water was unseen, but profound. Lakes, rivers, and underground aquifers, fed by rain and melting snow, were the source of the country’s water supply. The fallout from the nuclear detonations and the soot generated by the wildfires polluted these natural resources.

With the loss of electricity across most of the country, the nation’s critical infrastructure could no longer function. Without power, water treatment plants that employed mechanical processes to filter and purify water so it was safe for human consumption couldn’t operate. For existing stored water in large, enclosed reservoirs, the distribution system of pipes and pumps was unable to deliver the clean water to end-users’ taps. Neither wastewater nor stormwater could be collected or treated, as sewer systems required electricity to operate.

The human body could only survive three days without water before it began to dehydrate. At first, the effects of dehydration were evident by common symptoms like headache, dizziness, change in urination, and dry mouth. However, after those three days, the complications of untreated dehydration became more profound, and the onset of the problems came rapidly. The body’s vital organs simply shut down. Seizures and involuntary muscle contractions overcame the person. As the kidneys shut down, other organs like the heart were profoundly affected as low blood volume caused a rapid drop in blood pressure and oxygen. As the dehydration victim went into hypovolemic shock, death came quickly, and it was brutal.

All around the nation, people suffering from dehydration began to search for anything to rehydrate their bodies. They turned to the natural sources of water that formed the basis for the nation’s water supply. However, these lakes, streams, and rivers were polluted by the fallout from nuclear winter. They were beset with dysentery that only hastened the dehydration process.

By day twenty-five, there wasn’t a grocery store or a food-storage warehouse in America that hadn’t been looted or emptied. Desperate people trying to feed themselves or their loved ones stormed facilities, even those protected by armed guards, in an effort to grab a case of green beans or a container of baby formula.

Neighbor approached neighbor in search of help. If a family had a little extra and they gave it to their neighbor, they’d find themselves answering the door again the next day as the neighbor returned for more. If a family refused the neighbor’s pleas, the day after that, he might arrive at the door with a gun. A new father whose wife and newborn child were at home dying of starvation was willing to do anything to help them, including killing his best friend he’d once grilled and shared beers with.

During that morning briefing, the president was given a reality check. He’d been a politician for most of his adult life, insulated from the realities of daily life. His memory of living under the roof of a coal miner who literally dug under the ground to put food on his family’s table had waned long ago. He’d lost touch with how quickly the thin veneer of civilization could collapse as people tried to survive. As the FEMA director droned on, portraying a nation that was collapsing all around them, he began to wonder if anyone would be alive to save when it was over.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Monday, November 11

Driftwood Key

Jimmy walked gingerly up the sidewalk toward the front porch of the main house with the assistance of his father, who helped carry his weight. He’d been suffering cramps in his legs as a result of his dehydration and his herculean effort to tread water as he battled for survival. The doctors assured him his legs would return to normal functionality.

To assist in his recovery, he had been given several tubes of Hydralyte electrolyte tablets. The effervescent tablets were to be mixed with water and consumed by Jimmy throughout the next several days. They’d even provided him two cases of Essentia purified electrolyte water to ensure he was drinking something that hadn’t been contaminated by the fallout.

His limping gait meant nothing to Peter, who was fully recovered except for his strained vocal cords. He came bounding down the steps of the front porch and raced toward Jimmy to give his friend a hug. The two young men became emotional as they whispered to one another about their ordeal. Not because they sought privacy, it was all they could muster.

Lacey, who followed close behind Peter, couldn’t help herself. “I say we put it to a vote. Raise your hand if you think this mute button on Peter and Jimmy should be a permanent thing?” She quickly raised her hand. To her surprise, Phoebe raised hers as well.

Jimmy mouthed the words, “Mom? Really?”

She simply smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Children should be seen and not heard, even the ones who’ve grown up.”

The two gave one another a hug and pressed each other’s foreheads together for a brief moment. Without a doubt, the Free family, who’d always been close, now had an inseparable bond that could never be broken.

Sonny gave way to allow Peter to take over the job of helping Jimmy inside. Hank and Erin followed behind with the duffel bag and the supplies provided for Jimmy’s recovery. Lacey was the first to comment on the surgical masks they were wearing.

“Are you guys contagious with something or what?”

Her father responded, “Let’s get inside, and I’ll explain what I learned.”

Everyone made their way into the foyer until Hank led them into the bar, which had become the family’s unofficial living room. The dining area had remained off-limits until Phoebe’s return. It was always considered part of her domain within the main house.

After everyone got settled and Jimmy was provided a squeeze bottle bearing the Driftwood Key Inn logo full of electrolyte-infused water, Hank explained what the doctors had told him.

“You know, before all of this happened, I’d watch the news, and the weather guy would go on and on about the air quality index. My eyes would gloss over, and I’d wait to see the forecast. I learned a lot about AQI, the acronym used by the doctor to refer to air quality index. They take into account a lot of things like the ozone levels and particle pollution. She told me the pollution levels from soot particulates is off the charts. And what’s scary is you can’t really see it. I mean, sure, we all see the hazy skies. However, if you just consider the air in your immediate vicinity, it seems normal. It’s not.

“There are all kinds of chemicals that are part of the soot and smoke that we’re ingesting. Carcinogens and benzopyrene, the types of substances found in cigarette smoke, can enter our systems through breathing it or by ingesting it through our skin and eyes.

“Let’s put it this way, she told me that it doesn’t matter how much food and water we have stored; if we don’t prevent this crap from entering our lungs and blood system, we’ll begin to suffer from respiratory failure, heart issues, and, like smokers, cancer.”

Peter rolled his eyes and said in a loud whisper, “Happy, happy. Joy, joy. I’ve been breathing in smoke since DC got nuked.”

“Okay, the masks are a good start,” added Lacey. “I guess we can make it a point to cover up when outside. Hats. Long sleeves and pants.”

“That’s not a problem with how cold it is,” said Tucker, who was used to chilly weather hitting the San Francisco Bay Area.

“What else can we do?” asked Lacey.

“Clean,” replied Hank. “It was stupid of me to suggest we could smoke cigars and crack the windows last night. We need to vacuum and wipe down everything. Also, we need to find a way to limit the amount of outside air that comes into the house.”

“We could come and go through the mudroom,” suggested Phoebe. “I’ll keep the door to the kitchen closed, and we could spray our clothing off with Lysol.”

“I doubt we have enough Lysol to last years, but it’s a start,” interjected Hank. “Let’s all think on it, and we’ll come up with a solution. For starters, let’s all plan on kicking off our shoes and remove any outerwear to be left in the mudroom. Sonny and I’ll create some peg hooks or cubicles to store our outdoor clothing.”

Sonny nodded, his weary face reflecting his exhaustion from worry and lack of sleep.

Lacey made a suggestion. “We have lots to talk about, especially as it relates to getting into a daily routine now that everyone is here. Whadya think about letting Sonny and Phoebe get some rest? Jimmy needs to get squared away as well. Tonight, we’ll talk about this logistical stuff after dinner. Sound good?”

The group wholeheartedly agreed. Sonny and Phoebe helped Jimmy out of the house through the kitchen.

After they left, Hank turned to the group. “You guys know that I rely upon them a lot for operating the inn.” He turned to look in the direction of the Frees’ bungalow. “I’m no longer their boss. I’m Sonny’s brother. Jimmy is like a brother to Peter. And Phoebe, she’s like the glue that holds us all together. I’m saying all of that to say this. We’re going to share the responsibilities around here in order to survive. In addition to the obvious concerns, we, as a group, need to be rowing our boats in the same direction. Does that make sense?”

Everyone agreed.

Erin brought up one additional point. “I’m the outsider, and I can’t thank you all enough for taking me in. I hope to lend a different perspective based upon what I experienced while I held my position in the administration. Here’s how I look at it.

“After the attacks, the nation as a whole went into shock. There wasn’t any guidance on what to do or how to react because this whole thing was unprecedented. It was the stuff of scientists’ theories or survival thriller novels.

“Once people realized the government wasn’t going to take care of them, their primal instincts took over. Survival in a situation like this will take a strong, cohesive group like this family.

“However, there’s one more thing to consider. Our world has suddenly become a lot smaller. Sure, we’re still part of the United States, and of course you could say we’re still Floridians. But what happens in Pennsylvania or Tallahassee or even Miami is of no real consequence to us. We can only control or be a part of what happens here in the Keys or Marathon or on Driftwood Key.”

“Forget about the so-called big picture?” asked Lacey.

“Sort of,” began Erin in response. “There is a big picture, but how it impacts us won’t manifest itself for years, I’m afraid. Outside Driftwood Key and Monroe County, people are dying by the tens of millions. I’ve seen the hypotheticals and projections. And we’re only in the beginnings of this catastrophic event. The same will begin to take place from Key West to Key Largo. We need to focus our efforts on controlling what we can.”

“That’s why you think my dad should get involved in politics?” asked Lacey.

“Yes, and I saw him in action today. He’s a natural. You know why? Because he’s real. He’s a levelheaded problem solver who could bring business leaders and politicians together to stand up to the mayor.”

“Shouldn’t we focus on getting our own house in order first?” asked Peter.

Hank stepped in to answer that question. “Peter, we learned today that Lindsey has plans to confiscate property and fuel in Key West using the sheriff’s department. Many believe it’s her goal to move systematically up the Keys with the intention of taking supplies into the government’s possession for redistribution.”

“Ours?” asked Tucker.

“Yes,” his grandfather replied as he placed his arm around Tucker’s shoulders.

“How do we stop it?” asked Lacey.

Erin sighed. “We have some ideas, but like any new political campaign, we have to get organized. We need a place or building dedicated to going over strategy that’s separate from our living space.”

“Bungalow one is the closest,” said Hank. “We could remove the bedroom furniture and convert it.”

“That means we’d have to go outside a little too often,” said Lacey. “What about the game room upstairs? We could move things out and cover the pool table with a board to create a table.”

“That would work,” said Hank. “I’ll get with Sonny. I think he bought some chalkboard paint for a project Phoebe had. Heck, we’ll paint a whole wall with it.”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Erin, excited about the undertaking. “I say we sanitize the inn first so Phoebe won’t be compelled to do it, and then we’ll focus on our new war room.”

“Grandpa for mayor!” shouted Tucker.

Hank shook his head and playfully snarled at Erin.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Monday, November 11

Driftwood Key

Everyone gathered in the dining room for dinner except for Jimmy, who was still sleeping. All agreed that every moment he could rest, whether asleep or simply relaxing, would help him recover faster. Like Peter, Jimmy was satisfied with a bowl of soup and some crackers. At this point, the guys were more concerned with their sore throats than filling their bellies.

“Phoebe, it’s amazing what you can do in the kitchen with our limited options,” said Hank as he marveled at the fresh-cut greens and vegetables from their greenhouse garden that accompanied the baked fish. “For the last couple of days, we’ve all come to realize how difficult it is to manage our food.”

Phoebe accepted the compliment and took her seat next to Sonny. “I have to say, having Lacey and Erin around to help made a difference. But, Mr. Hank, we will have to start fishing again soon to keep our seafood levels where they should be.”

Sonny added, “And I have to bring all of our sustainable gardening to its full capability. Remember, we cut back to fool Lindsey into thinking we were just getting by.”

Hank nodded as he poured the homemade Italian dressing made by Erin with oil, vinegar, and Italian seasonings Phoebe had stockpiled.

“I remember. It’s time to ramp up with a focus on our survival now that we have everyone together, almost,” he said. Hank reached over to squeeze Lacey’s hand, a gesture designed to remind her that Owen might be gone, but he wasn’t forgotten. “We’re going to entrust you to portion out our food and related supplies as you see fit. I think Sonny and I are in a position to start fishing again.”

“Jimmy will be ready soon,” interjected Sonny. “He’s already talked about it. I tried to tamp down his enthusiasm, but he’s pretty insistent. He responded in typical Jimmy fashion. Dad, I don’t have to talk to fish.”

The group laughed, but it was Peter who raised a concern. “Listen, I’m okay after what we went through that night. But it was different for him. He almost died.”

Phoebe, who worried for her son more than anyone, explained why they shouldn’t be concerned. “Actually, I sense the problem is the opposite. He wants to talk about what he went through, and as he recalls a challenge, he explains how he survived it. If anything, he might think he’s invincible.”

Hank nodded and exchanged a glance with Lacey. Lacey had been pummeled by the hurricane and almost drowned as well had it not been for Tucker’s heroics. She’d already told her dad she’d prefer to stay off the water for a while, as in maybe forever.

“Let’s play it by ear. No matter what, he doesn’t go out without a partner. In fact, that’s one of the things we need to talk about tonight. Tucker is on the gate alone right now, but that’ll be the last time that happens. We need to establish a buddy system for things like security, fishing, or if absolutely necessary, travels into Marathon or the other Keys.”

Mike chimed in, “Hank’s absolutely right. Let me bring everyone up to speed. After I left the hospital the other day, I convinced the sheriff to let me create my own MCSO substation for Marathon. I’m basically based out of Driftwood Key, but I was able to get access to the Monroe County Clerk’s office. He’s assigned four permanent deputies to my command, plus my darling wife.”

“Dream on, Commander,” said Jessica with a laugh.

“Okay, let’s just say the WET team has a Marathon division, and that’s Jess.”

“Much better.” She and Lacey exchanged fist bumps in solidarity.

“Anyway,” Mike continued, “I’ll oversee law enforcement activities from Knights Key at Seven Mile Bridge up to Lower Matecumbe, at least for now.”

“What does that mean?” asked Sonny.

Mike looked at Erin as he responded, “Like cabinet members who serve at the pleasure of the president, right now, everyone is serving at the whim of the sheriff, who seems to be having his chain yanked by Lindsey. I think all of this is subject to change at a moment’s notice.”

Hank finished eating and rested his elbows on the table as he spoke. “The original plan was for Mike and Jessica to resign from the sheriff’s department. However, Mike saw an opening that allowed the two of them to be close to home while remaining tapped into the MCSO resources.”

“Resources?” asked Lacey.

“Yeah, to an extent,” replied Mike. “I hope to be able to continue to gather supplies, weapons, ammunition, and any other item that might help us get through this. Things are in disarray at the sheriff’s depot in Key West. There doesn’t appear to be any accountability or watchdog set up. With my new position, I feel like I can continue to siphon a few things for as long as I’m still in place.”

“Same for me,” added Jessica. “As an MCSO paramedic, I can restock my water ambulance with medical supplies. We’re gonna need them, too. Think about it, we’re only a few weeks into this damn apocalypse mess and we’ve lost Owen, had two near drownings, a stabbing, and two gunfights.”

Hank took a deep breath. “Let me add, from what Erin and I learned at the hospital, these medical facilities are in a world of hurt when it comes to filling their needs. They lost access to the mainland just like the rest of us did.”

“Hank’s right, which means I’ll only be able to, quote, restock, unquote, until I get cut off.” She used her fingers to create air quotes as she spoke. She gathered Mike’s plate and stacked it on top of hers.

“All right,” said Hank. “I guess the point is our ability to look outside Driftwood Key for supplies or assistance will be coming to an end at some point. Maybe sooner rather than later based upon what Mike is hearing from others within the department.”

Mike thanked Jessica for moving his plate. She knew him so well. When having a serious discussion at the dinner table, he tended to get animated and used the table to outline his point as if drawing with his fingers made it more clear for the others.

“The issue of security and the buddy system Hank alluded to is important now more than ever. Admittedly, I’ve been out of pocket since the stabbing, and prior to that I was still focused on finding our serial killer. I had a meeting with my newly assigned deputies, who told me that the number of break-ins in Marathon has increased.

“They’re hitting restaurants first. Porky’s, 7 Mile Grill, La Niña, for starters. Last night, they ransacked the Sunset Grille by the bridge. It could be a gang, but not in the sense you might think. Some of the eyewitnesses described it as a bunch of guys with guns. It could be anyone desperate enough to break into a business.”

“Are they happening at night?” asked Hank.

“Mostly, until yesterday afternoon. They drove up to Sunset Grille, smashed through the front door with the bumper of a pickup truck, and looted the place. The food was gone or spoiled, so they took all the condiments, the liquor, and the propane tanks for the barbecue grills on the deck.”

“Brazen,” mumbled Peter.

“Exactly,” said Mike. “They aren’t afraid of law enforcement intervening or investigating. For one thing, they have us outnumbered. And to make matters worse, my deputies showed no inclination to risk their lives to protect someone’s property. I’m lucky they show up for their shift at all. If it weren’t for the sheriff’s promise of food and the fact they live in our area, they’d probably stay home to protect their own.”

The thought of unchecked lawlessness hovered over the dinner table as everyone cleared their plates and exited to the kitchen. The group worked together to wash dishes, allowing Phoebe and her crew of two to relax.

Sonny gathered his clothes and weapon and slipped out of the house to join Tucker at the gate. Phoebe stayed behind in the kitchen at her desk to begin poring over her inventory journals. The rest quietly exited to take the issue up again in their new war room.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Monday, November 11

Driftwood Key

Throughout the day, the guys retrofitted the game room, which was rarely used by guests, to a place where they could gather to discuss their plans to rally other like-minded individuals throughout the Keys with the goal of removing Lindsey from office. The next day, Hank and Erin intended to call on Cheryl Morton, the former county attorney, to discuss their legal options. He wasn’t sure what illegal options were available, but he’d discuss them as well.

“Okay, we can modify this as necessary to suit our needs,” began Hank as the group climbed the stairs and approached the former game room. “The chalkboard paint hasn’t dried yet, but Phoebe hasn’t had an opportunity to whip up her concoction to make chalk.”

“How is she going to make chalk?” asked Mike.

“Until we can find some chalk, something I hope you can help us with when you go into Marathon, she’s going to mix together equal parts of cornstarch and water to go with one of the half-inch paintbrushes from the toolshed. It’s primitive, but it can work until we have a better option.”

“Sounds messy,” said Mike. “Let me work on the chalk tomorrow. I might be able to gain access to Switlik Elementary as part of my rounds. I want to start checking on the county-owned properties in Marathon.”

“Okay, I’ll let Phoebe know in the morning,” said Erin. She looked around the room and thought of a few things that might help. “Mike, if you come across legal pads or any other office supplies. We need to start making some notes as we consider our options.”

“Tell us what the process looks like, Erin,” said Lacey.

Hank urged everyone to sit down as he turned the floor over to Erin.

“After what Mike told us at dinner, before we worry about Lindsey, we need to make sure these armed, roving gangs don’t show up at our doorstep like they have in the past. Mike, what would it take to stop them?”

“More manpower,” he replied. “I don’t have enough deputies to fight them off.”

“Okay, let me think out loud for a moment,” continued Erin. “Marathon has residents and business owners who are in the same situation as we are. What if we approached them and laid out the threat? You know, tell them about this gang, or gangs, of armed men who are raiding their key. Do you think they’d band together to stop their looting before they grew larger in number and therefore too strong?”

“I don’t like civilian deputies,” said Mike bluntly.

“I get it. Vigilante justice isn’t always the best way to go, but correct me if I’m wrong. Haven’t you guys had to administer that kind of justice at your dock and then later at the bridge?”

“That was self-defense,” countered Mike.

“True, but it didn’t involve calling law enforcement for assistance. You guys handled it on your own. I’m suggesting you bring the locals together to fight back against this group. Plus, it will have a twofold purpose.”

“What is the other reason?” asked Hank.

Erin appreciated Hank’s ability to carry the conversation in the direction she needed it to go.

“It will give you an opportunity to show them Lindsey and the sheriff will not come to their aid. It will give them a newfound sense of self-reliance while showing Lindsey’s ineptitude. We want them to look to the Albright family for leadership, not the person who is ignoring their needs in order to confiscate property in Key West.”

“Makes sense to me,” said Hank.

“Follow me for a moment,” said Erin as she unfolded a map of the Florida Keys. “From everything we’ve heard, the mayor, with the aid of the sheriff, is working her way up the Keys. She’s started with the largest population areas. Eventually, she’ll want to send her minions across Seven Mile Bridge. That’s where we need to take a stand and say enough is enough.”

Jessica started laughing. “Great, we’re gonna blow up another bridge.”

Erin appreciated the humor, but she felt compelled to confirm this was not her intention. “Step one is to garner the trust of your neighbors and fellow business owners. Then we need to develop allies in the Middle and Upper Keys who will help us send a clear message to the mayor we’re not going to willingly give up our property, including food and supplies, to her administration to redistribute.”

Peter, whose voice had improved throughout the day, added, “By the time we have to take a stand, she will have pissed off everyone in the Lower Keys. Taking this drastic an approach would’ve had a better chance if she had a consensus of opinion on her side. She thinks she can run roughshod over everyone. That may work for those docile people in Key West, but with each day, she’ll face more resistance.”

Jessica stood and ran her fingers along Seven Mile Bridge. “If we’re not gonna blow it up, we can certainly make it near impossible to cross.”

“They’re not going to stand by and let us do that,” said Mike.

“It sounds to me like she’s allocated a lot of manpower to her activities in Key West,” Jessica responded. “Maybe we can do it quickly to frustrate her plans? By the time she figures out what happened, we’ll have a lot of folks on our side.”

“Here’s my question to you, Mike,” began Erin. “How long will it take the sheriff to move toward Marathon?”

“Five or six days, assuming they’re thorough,” he replied.

Erin stepped backward and sat on a bar stool, one of two sitting next to a rack of pool cues. “We’re gonna need to move quickly, and a little luck would be nice.”

Hank took the floor. “Okay, for tomorrow. Here’s the plan. Erin and I will work the political angle. We’ll see Mrs. Morton first, and then we’ll reach out to the county commissioner from district three. We know we have district five covered with Bud Marino. District one will be difficult to reach, but by the time her home is raided on Stock Island, she’ll be on board.

“Most importantly, I need to touch base with the mayor. Mike indicated he goes into his office every morning. I don’t know why, but I need to get him on board with us.”

“What about the business owners and this gang?” asked Lacey.

“Let me get a feel for what’s going on with these break-ins,” replied Mike. “Once I know what I’m dealing with, we can discuss how to stop them with the use of civilians.”

For the next hour, the group talked about the likelihood of their success. In the end, they agreed with Hank’s statement. It was often repeated and represented the feelings of many freedom-living Americans.

“I’d rather die on my feet than live on my knees.”