Bobby Akart - Desolation

“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.”

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.”