Bobby Akart - Desolation

“We have to try to do the same,” interjected Erin. “I have an idea in that regard.”

“What is it?” asked Mike.

“Well, do you have access to the county-owned buildings in your, um, former district?”

“Yeah, unless my deputies were told to lock me out,” he replied. “I’m hoping Jock got distracted after what happened at Winn-Dixie. That’s why I want to get to my people before he remembers he’s mad at me.”

Erin explained her reason for asking. “If you’re successful, I think we need to raid their buildings before they make an effort to raid ours. We also need a means of storage and dissemination. It has to be a place we feel is secure and overseen by those we trust.”

“Churches,” said Hank.

Erin smiled and winked at Hank. “Exactly! First off, churches have been there to help their communities throughout history. In a crisis, denominations and beliefs don’t usually come into play. It’s not like politics. At least not in the Keys, I hope.”

“This is a great idea,” said Mike. “You know, I’ve known the rector, Reverend Canon Debbie Messina, at St. Columba for a while now. She is a great person and will certainly be open to helping out. Plus, they have a recreation center that can hold food and supplies. They’re not on the main highway like some of the other churches, so it could fly under the radar of Jock’s people.”

“It’s also near the high school, so transferring the food and supplies down the street will be quick and easy,” added Hank.

“Will you see her?” asked Erin.

Mike nodded. “First thing after I determine where I stand with the deputies. I’ll approach a couple more churches, one on each end of Marathon.”

Hank added a thought. “I believe this will make it easier to bring other business owners on board if they know that a nongovernmental entity like a church will be involved with distribution to those in need. It’ll be a tough sell if we have to take on a role not that dissimilar from what Lindsey and Jock are doing.”

“Fellas, I have one more concern,” began Erin. “I’m not saying that Mike made our task more difficult. The separation was inevitable. However, we no longer have an insider at the sheriff’s department. We need to establish some means of surveillance and warning. And, like we discussed in the trip down to Key West yesterday morning, we need to consider blocking the Seven Mile Bridge to thwart their efforts.”

Mike agreed. “I’ve thought about both of those things. I know several guys who have powerful winches on the front of their trucks. I wanna get them on board, but once I do, my idea is to drag the vehicles until they’re parked sideways. Maybe even flatten their tires so they can’t easily be moved.”

“Are we okay with closing off access to Key West?” asked Hank.

“It wouldn’t be completely closed off. Pedestrian and bicycle traffic would still go back and forth. Just not Jock’s SWAT vehicles. Besides, there’s always the option to travel by water.”

Erin unplugged her phone from Mike’s and handed it to him. He thumbed through his apps and opened the photos to look at the images.

She addressed the surveillance issue, drawing on her newfound knowledge of the Keys’ geography. “We need some people to camp out at Big Pine Key and let us know when there’s activity there.”

Hank stood and shoved his phone in his pocket. He was anxious to get started. “Let’s make that part of our conversations today with everyone. First, we have to convince them this is necessary by letting them know what’s happening in Key West and that soon it’ll be at our doorstep. Once that’s done, we’ll recruit manpower to help.”

“Do you think they’ll be on board?” asked Erin.

Mike laughed and wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Oh, yeah. Fear is a great motivator.”

Thursday, November 14

Marathon

Prior to the collapse, there were eight thousand full-time residents located in Marathon and the adjacent keys. Four weeks after the nuclear wars broke out, the population had been cut to less than half. Many had traveled north to be with family. Many had died.

Mayor Juan Ramirez, who owned the local electrical supply store, had been a fixture in the community for a generation. His family of carpenters and electricians had helped build the homes at Key Colony Beach, an upscale community on the Atlantic Ocean side of the Keys. As his family aged, they turned to construction-related retailing. They owned an Ace Hardware franchise as well as the electrical supply business. His sister operated a gardening center specializing in hydroponic gardening and container gardening.

Hank had relied heavily upon Lisa Ramirez when he constructed the greenhouses and hydroponic system for Driftwood Key. She helped him assimilate the key’s sandy soil with bags of dirt they imported from the mainland to create a soil mixture that would produce vegetables, herbs, and fruit for years.

She’d also taught him the importance of the seeds he chose. They recommended non-GMO, microgreen seeds in addition to heirloom seeds. The term non-GMO meant the seeds were not created with the use of genetic engineering. Some GMO crops were modified to make them resistant to certain antibiotics. This resistance was then directly passed on to humans either through eating the vegetable or indirectly by eating a meat product that fed on GMO feed. There was a growing concern globally that humans were becoming increasingly resistant to antibiotics and therefore susceptible to a wide range of bacterial or viral infections.

Microgreens could easily be grown from seed to salad in just a week. Full of intense flavor coupled with high nutritional value, a small portion of the flavorful stems and leaves provided a powerful punch of nutrition.

Heirloom seeds enabled the grower to save seeds from harvested fruits and vegetables to be used in the next growing season. Just as important, during a catastrophic event like nuclear winter, heirloom seeds were not genetically modified to ripen all at once like hybrid or GMO seeds. In a world in which refrigeration and lines of distribution were virtually nonexistent, the heirloom seeds enabled growers to sustain themselves year-round if they had a means to grow the plants.

Hank and Erin had arrived at the mayor’s office early that morning. While they waited, Hank provided some background.

“Juan has been the mayor for years, and he’s the closest thing I’ve ever seen to someone being apolitical. I mean, I’m not even sure he identifies with one party or the other. If you talk to him, he might lean a little bit to the left side of the spectrum on social issues, but then he’s always preaching fiscal responsibility when he chairs the city council meetings. The bottom line, I guess, is that Juan always tries to do the right thing for the people who live here.”

“How many would that be?” she asked.

“Eight thousand, maybe? I’d say ninety percent of those are white, not that it matters. It’s a funny thing about the Keys. We’re all kinda color-blind down here.”

“What’s his relationship to Lindsey?”

“Neutral, at least in Juan’s eyes. He didn’t back anyone in Lindsey’s races.”

Erin stared across the highway at the Marathon airport. A few fixed-wing aircraft remained parked on the tarmac. It appeared most who had the ability to fly left. She found that ironic, as Lindsey’s biggest fear was the Keys being inundated by outsiders, yet those who had the ability to bypass her roadblocks through the air chose not to.

“Here’s the thing about politicians, Hank. They are constantly feeling out fellow politicians to determine where they stand. The phrase you’re either with us or against us very much applies to their interaction with others of their ilk. Your friend may not admit it to us, but there’s a reason he didn’t throw his support behind Lindsey. I hope we can use that to our advantage.”