by Bobby Akart
After the two brothers commiserated over Jimmy and his recovery prospects, they rode along for several miles in silence. Then, as the minds of brothers often do, they brought up a subject in near unison.
“We need to talk about Lindsey,” said Mike as Hank asked, “Can we talk about Lindsey?”
After laughing and exchanging high fives, the men became more serious.
Mike continued. “She’s on your mind, too.”
Hank rested his chin in his hand and stared out the passenger’s side window. Normally at night, the small shops and restaurants that lined U.S. 1 in Islamorada would be bustling with tourist activity. Now the spaces were darkened, and the streets were abandoned except for the occasional wayward soul searching through trash or a looted business.
“Don’t get me wrong, Mike. I bear the responsibility of Jimmy being on that bridge in the first place. I allowed Lindsey to strong-arm me, but I felt it was my only choice since she seemed to say I’d be protected from her plans to put people in our bungalows and seize the food grown in our greenhouses.”
“All right, listen up,” began Mike in a stern tone of voice. “I can’t help how you feel, but I can try to ease your conscience. Lindsey is a straight-up snake. A master manipulator. A true black widow who has a way of getting men to do her bidding before she injects venom into their system. Trust me, I almost fell prey to her years ago, as you know.”
Hank nodded. “Mike, I can’t decide if she’s lost it or if she honestly believes she’s doing the right thing for the Keys. Either way, I don’t think we’re done with her. She couldn’t’ve cared less about her nephew going missing. Sad, really.”
“Sad unless you understand how selfish she is, Hank. She’s power hungry and will absolutely use these circumstances to advance her agenda. She’s been reelected by fooling people. Now she doesn’t have to answer to anyone. Hell, look at how she thumbed her nose at Washington, or wherever our capital is now. Blowing up bridges? Are you kidding me?”
Hank turned in his seat to face his brother. The glow emanating from the dashboard showed the concern on his face. “You’re more attuned to the happenings in Key West than I am. I avoid the place like the plague. How far do you think she’ll go?”
Mike shrugged. “I’d say the sky’s the limit if I could see the damn sky. Personally, I’ve always believed she was power hungry. Now she has unrestrained power, to an extent. I mean, I don’t think she can shoot somebody on Duval and get away with it. But, hell, this martial law declaration probably gives her that right.”
“I’ve read it,” added Hank. “At least the one issued by the president. She probably does have that power. Keep in mind, she’s got her own executive order, too.”
“I nosed around the department before I left Key West. Deputies and staff are scrambling in all directions, jumping at the sheriff’s orders. I gotta believe he’s working closely with her.”
“He’s an independent, elected official like she’s supposed to be,” interjected Hank. “I’ve never known them to act in lockstep on everything.”
“Yeah.” Mike stretched out the word. “You’d be surprised. They disagree on mundane matters that don’t really have an impact on the people who live here. However, on the big stuff, they see eye to eye. There have been policy changes within the department that have us all scratching our heads but afraid to speak out.”
“I tried to have a conversation with the sheriff, but it was a waste of time. When I went to Lindsey’s office, I felt like the enemy. Not a good feeling.”
The men rode on in silence as Mike was forced to concentrate on their surroundings. The bridge stretching from Lower Matecumbe Key to Marathon had been thrust into pitch darkness. There were cars abandoned in all directions, a few of which were being lived in by homeless people or the displaced.
“Before we get home, let me ask you about Erin,” said Mike.
“Okay. You know, we’re just good friends. Heck, we really barely know each other. We spent some time together while she was here. Then the day she was whisked away, we were having a pretty good time fishing. That’s it.”
Mike looked over in Hank’s direction. His brother stared forward through the windshield. “There must’ve been something more for her to get a Coast Guard escort to Driftwood Key. I mean, why did she leave Wash—um, you know, wherever the hell they were working from.”
“Mike, honestly, we haven’t had time to talk about any of that. She arrived, and I was truthfully glad to see her. I’ve thought about her a lot since she left. Anyway, it had been a long day for everyone, so we all went to bed. Then we put together the search party and took off early.”
“She didn’t explain her intentions on the boat ride up to Florida Bay?” said Mike inquisitively.
“No. Like me, she wanted to stay focused on finding Jimmy.”
“No small talk or anything—”
Hank got annoyed with his brother. “No, Detective Albright, nothing like that.”
Mike laughed. “Okay, I deserved that. It’s just odd to me that she would show up out of the blue and think that (a) it was safe and (b) it would be okay with us.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” asked Hank, who was now on the defensive. “She’s a good person, Mike.”
“Geez, Hank. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m a little leery of everything right now. I think we have to move forward with the mindset of, um, trust no one.”
Hank gently slapped his brother on the shoulder as Mike slowed to enter the street leading onto Driftwood Key. “No problem. We’ve all been through a lot.”
“No doubt. I think we need adult beverages.”
“Drinks and cigars,” added Hank.
Mike nodded but threw water on the idea. “I’d love to, but the air quality kinda sucks. I don’t think we should be hanging around outside.”
“Nah, we’ll take over the bar.”
Mike started laughing. “Phoebe will have your ass if you smoke cigars in the main house.”
“It’ll clear out by the time they get home, right?”
Mike shook his head from side to side and grinned. “I hope so for your sake.”
Chapter Ten
Sunday, November 10
Driftwood Key
Jessica and Peter arrived at the dock just as Hank and Mike were exiting the unmarked four-door pickup truck owned by the MCSO. Lacey and Erin greeted them all at the dock. Interestingly, all the adults had the same suggestion to help ease the stress and tensions of the day. Cocktails.
Tucker, who’d slept most of the afternoon, was ready to pull an all-nighter at the gate. Mike had picked up a couple of ThunderPower megaphones during his supply run to the sheriff’s department supply depot the other day. Known as the Earthquake Maker, the powerful megaphone was capable of blasting a voice up to two thousand yards, and its shrill warning siren could be heard for a mile or more. Tucker had tested it earlier and found it worked better than the Pyle megaphones they kept on Driftwood Key for marine use.
With Tucker watching the perimeter, the adults raided the kitchen and then made their way into the bar. Illuminated by candlelight, a few windows were cracked slightly so the guys could each have a means to ventilate the smoke from their cigars to the outside, joining the already soot-filled air.
Lacey and Jessica claimed the opposite ends of the leather couch, their legs stretched out so that their feet pressed against each other. While Jessica was older than Lacey, the two enjoyed a sister-like relationship. On the few occasions Lacey had been able to visit Driftwood Key for an extended period of time, she and Jessica had been almost inseparable.
Erin, the inn’s only guest, offered to act as the group’s bartender. She was comfortable with all the members of the Albright family. After the initial shock of her grand arrival via helicopter, the family had welcomed her with open arms although they were anxious to hear why she’d come there instead of her own home.
Of everyone in attendance, Erin was the only person who’d not suffered following t
he collapse. She’d been fed and protected within the confines of Mount Weather along with the other top-ranking officials of the Helton administration. She’d confirmed with the help of Homeland Security that her immediate family was safe.
As the evening progressed, she hoped the Albrights’ conversations could be somewhat lighthearted. Erin thought they needed a break from reality.
“Okay, everyone. Tonight, you are the guests of the Driftwood Key Inn, and I am your humble bartender. Before you start telling me your troubles, may I propose a toast?”
“Sure!”
“Only if you’re humble!” shouted Jessica, drawing a laugh from the group.
Everyone raised their drinks as Erin lifted hers.
“To TEOTWAWKI—the end of the world as we know it!”
Glasses clinked, and drinks were swigged.
Then Erin bowed her head slightly and looked toward Lacey. She raised her glass again. “To those who were loved and lost.”
Lacey smiled and raised her glass. She fought back tears and smiled before proposing a toast of her own. “To all of us as we find the strength to move forward as a family.”
“Cheers!” several of the group said loudly.
The toasting session managed to empty several glasses, so Erin busily refilled the drinks. Hank, Jessica and Erin enjoyed a scotch. Mike commandeered his own bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Peter sipped rum, and Lacey was the sole wine drinker.
Once settled in with a second round, the conversation turned from Jimmy’s medical condition to what was happening outside the Keys.
Mike turned to Lacey. “You guys had one helluva road trip. I’m sure you’d like to put most of it out of your mind.”
She grimaced and sipped her wine. “You know, it was an odd mix of unfettered violence and people coming together to help. You had some people who’d give you the shirt off their backs, and then there were others who’d take your shirt, after killing you, of course. It’s amazing how broad the spectrum was.”
“I experienced the same thing,” added Peter. “During my trip, I had a lot of time to soak in what was happening around me, and I tried to make sense of it all. I can’t tell you how many times I was surprised by people’s kindness only to see the dark side of humanity show itself moments later. People became violent because they were frightened and others simply because they were evil opportunists.”
Lacey turned to her uncle, whom she adored. “Uncle Mike, other than this serial killer you guys have mentioned in passing, what’s it been like in the Keys? Has there been violence and looting?”
Mike glanced at Jessica and then responded, “Fortunately, so far the spikes in crime have related mostly to B & Es. As the crisis started to unfold, the store shelves were emptied by panicked shoppers.”
“I have to say, we were part of that,” interrupted Hank.
“Yeah, and within the MCSO, some people looked at it as hoarding while others considered it self-preservation. Those of us who reacted quickly to the first signs of trouble are better prepared than others.”
“There has been violence, so let’s not sugarcoat it, though,” interjected Jessica. “In addition to Patrick almost killing my husband and Phoebe, we had gas thieves shooting at us and a well-armed group try to breach our gate. Their bloodstains are still on the bridge.”
Mike continued. “These incidents were becoming more frequent, although the hurricane seemed to give us a break from the violent encounters. However, those who had very little to begin with lost everything during the storm. People who relied upon fishing lost their boats. Others who were days away from starvation also lost the roofs over their heads.”
“And thanks to Lindsey, anyone who wanted to leave the Keys and stay with relatives are stuck here because the bridges have disappeared,” said Hank. He was about to rise out of his chair to get a refill; however, Erin quickly moved across the room to take his glass. The two shared a long, loving look when they were close to one another, something that did not go unnoticed by Mike and Jessica.
After pouring Hank another drink, Erin took her seat on a bar stool and refilled her glass. As she did, Jessica asked, “Erin, what can you tell us about the bigger picture? What’s going on elsewhere?”
She took a deep breath before responding, “First, let me commend both Peter and Lacey for what they accomplished. The levels of violence are much higher outside the Keys. The reports out of Miami, like America’s other highly populated cities, are shocking. There are armed gangs forming to establish territories. They work in large packs to loot and rob people. Home invasions are too numerous to count.”
“Sounds like lawlessness,” said Hank.
“It is, in part because there aren’t enough law enforcement officers to control it and also because many have quit to protect their own families.”
Mike and Jessica glanced at each other. They’d unofficially done the same thing.
“I read the martial law declaration signed by the president,” said Hank. “Obviously, he has the military at his disposal to help, right?”
Erin nodded. “The Army has just over eight hundred thousand active-duty soldiers and National Guardsmen. With the three hundred thousand reservists who have been called up, the Army provides the vast majority of the president’s manpower to gain control of the streets.
“As odd as this may seem under the circumstances, America is extremely vulnerable to foreign invasion at this moment. To be sure, all major powers in the northern hemisphere, namely China and Russia, are going through the same thing we are. That said, their populations are used to a different standard of living, or lifestyle, than we are. They’re also used to living under an oppressive government. Rather than using their military resources to fight rioters or quell uprisings, they could turn their sights on us while our armed forces are preoccupied.”
“Who shot at us to begin with?” asked Lacey.
“North Korea,” replied Erin.
Peter, who was very knowledgeable in foreign affairs, returned to the subject of an invasion. “If the nuclear powers wanted to finish us off, they could’ve easily done so. We most likely exhausted our nuclear defense arsenal against the North Koreans, am I right?”
“Yes,” replied Erin. “Both Moscow and Beijing know this. That said, destroying the rest of America wouldn’t do them any good. China, especially, needs America with a vibrant economy to survive. If anything, they need us to get back on our feet quickly. That doesn’t mean, however, they wouldn’t seize the opportunity to acquire key strategic assets while we’re defenseless.”
“Are you thinking they might seize territories in the Far East?” asked Peter.
“Certainly. Taiwan is a given. They might make a move on American Samoa and Guam. The Northern Mariana Islands are also targets. For Russia, they’d love to invade Alaska. It would be a perfect fit as they expand their presence in the Arctic. Plus, control of the vast petroleum potential in ANWR would change the balance of power in the fossil-fuel industry.” The Arctic National Wildlife Refuge was an oil-rich area that was constantly a football in Washington between those who want to drill for oil and those who don’t.
“We had to reroute our trip home because Texas closed its borders,” said Lacey. “How can they do that?”
“The same way Lindsey did it, I suppose,” said Mike with a hint of snark. “Did they blow up their bridges, too?”
Erin shook her head as she drank. “No, but they certainly blocked them all. Their actions came as a result of the huge number of American refugees fleeing for Mexico. When the Mexican government had had enough of our people infiltrating their country on the way to lower latitudes, they deployed their army coupled with assistance from the drug cartels to close their borders. The Texas governor was facing a humanitarian crisis as millions of people, not knowing that Mexico had shut down access, would be accumulating in his state.”
Lacey shared what she and Tucker had observed. “We saw military trucks, even tanks, headed west on Interstate 40 toward the Panhand
le. Did they invade Texas?”
Erin sighed. “I wasn’t privy to all of the details, but I did hear the whispers in the corridors of Mount Weather. Let’s just say it was in the works.”
“Were they going to do the same here?” asked Peter before adding, “I saw them staging in Homestead at the Speedway.”
“Yes. That was the president’s intention. I believe the operation was delayed by the storm and, of course, the decision to blow up the bridges.”
“Maybe Lindsey did the right thing after all,” Mike said as he poured himself another drink.
Erin’s eyes grew wide. So much for lighthearted.
Chapter Eleven
Sunday, November 10
Driftwood Key
“Come on, Mike,” countered Hank in a raised voice. “There were better ways to deal with these problems than blow up bridges.” This was the second time Hank and Mike had had a disagreement that day.
“Okay. Okay. Calm down,” began Mike. “Just hear me out. Everyone knows how I feel about Lindsey. Trust me, there’s no love lost between us. That said, she made two decisions that arguably may have benefited the Keys.
“The first one involved expelling all nonresidents. Think about it, Hank. You did the same thing here, and it was the right thing to do. Those folks needed to go home and take care of themselves. We’re going to be facing some difficult times ourselves without trying to feed a dozen extra mouths.”
As soon as he made the statement, Erin wanted to shrink within herself. She was one of those extra mouths.
Mike continued. “Imagine all of these tourists wandering around the Keys. Homeless. Hungry. Desperate. Increasingly violent. It would be a bad situation.”