Nuclear Winter Desolation: Post Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (Nuclear Winter Series Book 5) Page 8

  “What about the bridges?” asked Hank.

  Mike turned to Erin. “So what was the president’s plan as he invaded the Florida Keys? Depose the government and become a military occupying force on U.S. soil? Arrest Lindsey and any criminal co-conspirators who set up the roadblocks? They might’ve taken all of law enforcement into custody until they could decide who was complicit and who wasn’t. Think about this. Under the martial law declaration, the president took away all of our rights of due process, speedy trial, trial by jury, etcetera. Jessica and I, and even Jimmy, could be rotting away in a jail cell somewhere.”

  “I don’t think the president would’ve let it come to that,” Erin began to explain before Mike interrupted her.

  “Don’t get me wrong because I’m not defending Lindsey. All I know is what I hear from people at the MCSO. She honestly believed the National Guard was going to come onto the Keys, by force if necessary, and use all of the powers afforded under the martial law declaration to seize control of the government and anything else it wanted. Including a place like Driftwood Key.”

  “Lindsey threatened me with the same crap, Mike,” said Hank. “She stood right outside this window and all but said fork over Jimmy to stand guard or I’ll be back to load up all your food and supplies.”

  “I’m just saying we’re better off with the devil we know rather than the devil we don’t,” said Mike as he leaned back and folded his arms.

  The tensions between them were evident, making the rest of the family uncomfortable. Erin had intended to speak with Hank alone about why she was there, but she decided to address the group before the brothers’ relationship worsened.

  She took a long swig of liquid courage and stood in front of the Albrights. “There’s something I need to say.”

  Everyone exchanged glances with one another. Lacey turned around on the couch to give Erin her complete attention.

  “Go ahead, Erin,” encouraged Hank.

  She looked at him as she spoke. “I never wanted to leave the boat that day. I can’t tell you how wonderful it felt to close out the world and have someone as nice as you come into my life. Being summoned back to Washington like that frightened me because it meant really bad things were on the horizon. Turns out that was the case.

  “Hank, not a day went by that I didn’t think about you. Well, all of you, really. I worried about your safety and well-being. In fact, I did my level best to keep tabs on what was happening here through my contacts in the intelligence community who worked out of Mount Weather. I was aware of the mayor’s actions although I never imagined she’d blow up a federal highway and a state road.

  “Anyway, I had become a thorn in the president’s side. It was unintentional. In our briefings and cabinet meetings, he’d ask my opinion, and I’d give it. As it turned out, I was too disagreeable for him and was about to be fired. While I was pleading my case to save my job, I seized on an opening he gave me. That’s what led me back to you.”

  “What was that?” asked Hank.

  “Everyone, the president went through a period in which the stresses of the crisis overwhelmed him. When he came back, he was angry and wanted to take out his frustrations on anyone, including entire states like Texas, which he perceived to be working against him. The Florida Keys became one of those lightning rods for his ire.

  “When he learned of the nonresidents being removed from the Keys, followed by the closing of the two bridges with armed personnel, he blew a fuse. This happened at a time when Texas and other areas of the country were doing the same.

  “You see, the president has this utopian vision of everyone coming together to help one another through the collapse. That’s possible, but it must be done on a community or more localized basis.

  “The president hasn’t been on the road like Lacey and Peter. He hasn’t had his home fall under attack like you have. He sees everyone coming together to share their resources for the greater good of all Americans.”

  “Lindsey is the same way,” interjected Hank. “In her mind, all the resources in the Keys should be pooled together and distributed according to need. She doesn’t care whether a business or family like ours made personal and financial sacrifices to prepare for a catastrophic event like this one. In her mind, it’s not fair for some of us to have an advantage over others.”

  Mike poured himself another shot of Jack, his fourth. “Are you saying you volunteered to return to the Keys to help the president?” His skepticism of Erin’s motives came through in his questioning.

  “Mike, let me tell you what the president’s stated intentions were,” replied Erin, who finished her drink, more to quench her dry mouth than to loosen her tongue. “I’m serious when I tell you this. He planned on taking control of Monroe County’s government. Then he was going to displace most of its residents by moving them to government-owned housing on the mainland.”

  Erin took a deep breath before finishing her thought. “He intended to undertake a massive land reclamation project by leveling buildings, trucking in topsoil, and creating large federally operated farms to produce food for the nation.”

  Mike started laughing. “That’s freaking nuts!”

  “What would that look like?” asked Jessica. “Big bulldozers mowing everything down and then dump trucks building farmland?”

  “It’s absurd, you guys, and I told him as much. That’s why he wanted to fire me, among other things.”

  “Is that why you’re here?” asked Mike. “To lay the groundwork for this ridiculous idea?”

  Erin poured herself another drink and sat back on the barstool. “President Helton is a cunning, conniving politician, not unlike your mayor, except on a much higher level. Here’s why he agreed to send me to the Keys. He wants me to recruit Hank to take Lindsey’s job through valid elections.”

  Mike busted out laughing. “Hank? As county mayor?”

  “That’s right. It was my idea, actually. You see, the president has encircled the Keys with Coast Guard vessels. He has not given up on his plans to take over the Keys although he lied to me about that. I know him, so I made inquiries with friendly military personnel. Gaining control of the situation is the only way to avoid our own military invading the Keys.”

  “Then why would you go along with him?” asked Jessica.

  “Because I know politics and how these things work. Now, correct me if I’m wrong. Your mayor, Lindsey, is a power-hungry opportunist, right?”

  “Nailed it,” said Mike.

  “Okay. She’s got some pretty big cajones right now because she destroyed the bridges preventing the National Guard from coming onto the Keys. I guess she forgot about the amphibious units, like the Marines, available to the president. She’s pissed him off, and he’d come at her with all he’s got.”

  “She’d fold like a cheap tent,” said Hank.

  “Exactly!” exclaimed Erin. “She’d sell out the residents and businesses throughout the Keys in a heartbeat. He’d let her keep her position while offering her countless opportunities to profit from this. It’s the way these kinds of politicians do business.”

  “I take it he didn’t disclose this part to you, am I right?” asked Peter.

  “That’s right. I didn’t give him any inkling that I saw through his façade. Trust me, Peter. You know Washington. We were playing chess, not checkers.”

  “So what is the plan?” asked Hank. “How do you intend to make me mayor? And then what?”

  “By my agreeing to help the president, we can keep any military action at bay. At least for a while. The media will turn on him if they perceive he’s being heavy-handed on a bunch of flip-flop-wearing islanders. We have to find a way to work from within to undermine Lindsey’s authority. Cause the locals to turn on her and demand a vote, a referendum of sorts, to insert an alternative government.”

  “Led by Hank?” asked Mike.

  “All of you can play a role,” replied Erin. “Think about it. Some of the key aspects of any functioning society are government
, law enforcement, and the media. All three of these integral parts are sitting in this room. Each of you can contribute.”

  Hank stood and began pacing the floor. He rubbed his hands through his hair as he contemplated Erin’s proposal. “This is a lot to take on, Erin. I mean, we’re gonna struggle to survive ourselves.”

  “If you do nothing, here’s what’s likely to happen. First, this tyrannical mayor is going to sweep through the Keys like a pack of locusts stripping away anything of value to be redistributed. At some point, the Coast Guard with a contingent of Marines will come ashore to arrest her and anyone connected to her administration. Possibly, like Mike said, law enforcement officers complicit in the destruction of the bridges. Once that has happened, he might go through with his stupid plan to level the Keys and turn it into Iowa.”

  “Or?” asked Hank.

  Erin stood again and walked up to him, grabbing his arms so he’d stop pacing. “Or you can save the Keys.”

  Part II

  Day twenty-five, Monday, November 11

  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 automa
tic 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?