Bobby Akart - Desolation

“It sure would help those of us who had our food stolen by those thieves!” a man in the back shouted.

“Can’t argue with that!” added another.

Hank began to wonder if the crowd was going to remain friendly. They might not have been armed, but they outnumbered them by six to one. So to pacify them, he lied. He stuck his neck out and made a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.

“I’m going to propose we create a food bank for the residents of Marathon, starting with the food storage held in the high school. We also need to set up some type of barter market or exchange location. You know, someone who might have too much bleach can trade a bottle for someone who has some extra canned goods. It’s being done up north and can be done here also.”

“That’s a great idea, Hank!” shouted a woman who stood off to the side.

“We’ve all talked about it, but nobody does anything. Thank you, sir!” said a man in the crowd.

Erin chimed in, “We will contact your mayor about a possible location. Maybe we can do it here at the high school or through the churches. It’s not such a great idea to be out in this air, you know.”

The onlookers were enthusiastically on board with the proposal.

“Let’s do it. I have fish to trade in exchange for stuff.”

“Same here!”

“When will it start?”

Hank leaned into Erin and whispered in a sarcastic tone, “We’re all in now.”

Tuesday, November 12

Administration Building

Key West

Lindsey had just received a briefing from her mayor pro tem and Sheriff Jock. She dismissed her staff and loyalists but asked Jock to remain behind. Once her office suite had been cleared, she pulled a bottle of scotch out of her desk drawer and poured them both drinks in Dixie cups intended for the pitcher of water on her credenza.

“Why do you look so pissy, Jock? I consider this a good start. Not great, but good.”

“I lost deputies today.” His tone was solemn. He threw back the scotch and poured himself another. He paced the floor as he spoke. “Sure, we had a good run on the most valuable location on our target list, but obviously we were done after the Gordon’s debacle.”

Lindsey wasn’t much for consoling the men in her life. In her mind, emotional men were weak. She used their weakness to lead them to do her bidding. Jock Daly was no different. She’d kept him on a tight leash for years, and she didn’t need him to get soft on her now.

She walked around her desk to rub his shoulders. He closed his eyes, and the tension was immediately released from his body. She spoke in soft tones as she tried to lift his spirits.

“Your teams had no way of knowing those guys were locked up in that building. From what your sergeant said in the debrief, they were pros. Ex-LEOs or even military. It could’ve been much worse.”

Jock nodded but still lamented the death of his men. “It’s gonna make it difficult to keep our deputies interested in the raids.”

Lindsey rolled her eyes behind his back. “Here’s what you have to remind them of. A large portion of the food we secure will go to their families. They are being rewarded with the gift of life. Is it risky? Damn straight. Will they die if they don’t take the risk? Sooner or later, yes.”

“I know. I’ll make sure that’s drilled into the new teams tomorrow morning before they start again. It’s gonna be a bigger challenge, you know. The word spread throughout Key West. Now, you have business owners redoubling their efforts to secure their buildings. Those with guns are marching up and down the sidewalks, threatening to shoot anyone who comes close. There’s an angry mob outside demanding to know what happens to the food that’s being confiscated.”

Lindsey returned to her desk and plopped into her chair with a full cup of scotch. She took a sip while studying her sheriff and occasional lover.

“Jock, you might have to make examples of a few people. Do you follow me?”

“Do you want me to shoot the doughnut shop owner?” he said with a hint of snark.

Lindsey didn’t appreciate the retort but admired his spunk. At least he wasn’t feeling sorry for himself any longer. “No, not necessarily. Your rules of engagement should remain the same. Return fire when fired upon. If someone tries to shoot one of your people, shoot to kill, and then leave the body for everyone to see. I think that’ll tamp down any resistance.”

“There were quite a few civilians killed in the gun battle at Gordon’s.”

Lindsey smirked. “They should’ve stayed the hell out of the way, then. Listen, Jock. There’s gonna be collateral damage in all of this. You understand that, right? It’s unavoidable. If word spreads through the town like you said, maybe part of that message will be to avoid getting involved.”

“I get it. We’ll see how tomorrow goes. However, I get the sense your constituents are rippin’ pissed at what happened at Gordon’s today.”

“They’ll get over it when we start handing out rations in a week or so.”

The sheriff wandered to the window and looked over the crowd of people who were huddled outside the administration building. They were animated. Agitated. Some were distraught.

“I hope we can make it until then,” he mumbled as he finished his second drink.

“We’ll be fine. If they make trouble, clamp down. Got it?” Lindsey was ready to move on to the rumors she’d heard from Marathon.

“Are you going to send someone up to Marathon High School to find out what happened today? My staff was told there was a shoot-out between some of your people and armed gunmen who broke into the high school.”

Jock didn’t have anyone to spare to investigate the shooting. He was going on what he’d heard through the rumor mill. “All we know so far is that a group of men and women, maybe eight to ten in total, broke into the high school warehouse to steal food. Mike Albright, who’s in charge of the substation up there, responded with a deputy. They surprised the burglars, and that’s when the shooting began. From what I’m told, all of those involved in the break-in were killed.”

Lindsey was both perplexed and curious. “By two men? Detective Albright and a single deputy?” She reached for the bottle of scotch to pour herself another drink and made a mental note to add a state-run ABC liquor store to tomorrow’s raid list.

Jock responded as she retrieved the bottle, “Well, no. Actually, they had some help. Apparently, Hank Albright showed up at the scene with a woman. I think her name was Bergmann, or something like that. My source said she claimed to be some kind of Washington bigwig.”

The blood flowed out of the mayor’s face as it turned ashen white. She slammed the bottle of scotch on her desk and immediately stood up. “Erin Bergmann? Secretary of Agriculture for that scumbag Helton?”

Jock shrugged. He had no idea who the Secretary of Agriculture was and what she’d be doing in the Keys. All he knew was the information genuinely struck a nerve with Lindsey.

“I can find out—” he began to respond before she cut him off.

“Listen to me, Jock. You send someone you trust to Marathon and find out what the hell is going on up there. Confirm whether she’s in my county. She could be working with President Helton to come after me.”

“Come on, Lindsey. You’re just being paranoid.”

Her face turned from white with fear to red rage. She slammed the palm of her hand on her desk, causing the Dixie cup half full of scotch to jump slightly.

“I’m not messing around. Find out if this is true and where this woman is staying. Was she with Hank? Why is she here? Who has been in contact with her? Everything!”