Bobby Akart - Desolation

Her face was red with rage, yet her voice was eerily calm. She wasted no time in addressing her nemesis.

“Hank, just who do you think you are?” she asked as she walked closer to him.

The SWAT team moved slightly to let Lindsey and Jock through. Sergeant Rivera moved along the side of the road so that he could provide visual instructions to his personnel if needed.

As Lindsey and Jock approached, Rivera motioned for the deputies to move closer as well. The gap was being closed between the two groups, which meant the Albright group was in even greater peril. There would be no time to run and take cover.

“I should ask you the same question, Lindsey,” Hank shot back without a hint of trepidation in his voice. “I’m not going to make this personal. You have history with some members of my family. However, that’s not what this is all about. This is about the Florida Keys and its people. It’s about what the role of government is during a crisis. It’s about maintaining the rights and freedoms we enjoy as Americans.”

“Lofty words, but that’s not reality, Hank. You have no idea what I have on my platter. You live in a fancy place on a beautiful little private island, insulated from the despair of your neighbors.”

“That’s not true!” Hank shouted back at her. “We’ve suffered, too. My daughter lost her husband. The father to my grandson. My son, Peter, came close to death countless times, especially when he was only a dozen miles from ground zero in Washington. My brother, Mike, a decorated and highly respected detective for you, Jock, was almost murdered at the hands of a homicidal maniac.” Hank paused and moved next to Jimmy, who was standing alongside his parents.

He continued. “And how about your nephew, Jimmy. Remember him? Your irresponsible actions in blowing up the bridges almost killed him. But for the grace of God, he would’ve died because he was forced to volunteer for your crazy scheme.”

“You volunteered him!” Lindsey’s calm demeanor had been whisked away as Hank continued to stand up to her.

“Don’t be coy with me, Lindsey. Your message to me on the front porch that day was loud and clear. Offer up a member of my family or you’d bring your wrath upon me.”

“Whatever, Hank. Enough of this. It’s time for you people to get out of the way. We’ve got work to do.”

Hank looked down and then glanced at Fred the Tree. Like so many others in the Keys, Driftwood Key had survived the onslaught of Hurricane Irma that year. His family, the Frees, and all of the people of the Keys had stood strong as the storm pummeled their homes.

He stood a little taller and stuck out his jaw slightly. “No, Lindsey, you don’t. You’ve already crossed the line from governing to tyranny. You don’t have the authority—”

“What? Are you kidding me?” Lindsey was incredulous. “We’re trying to find a way to help people survive the most devastating catastrophic event that’s ever hit our country, much less the Florida Keys. The only way to keep order and prevent people from dying is for somebody like me to take control.”

“It’s not the only way,” Hank argued as he took a couple of steps closer to Lindsey and the menacing gunmen. “You have to appeal to the residents and business owners of the Keys. You have to lay out a plan that incorporates our churches and communities to help one another. Bringing in the goon squad to steal from businesses in the name of the greater good only fosters resentment, and it gets people killed in the process.”

“You’re out of line, Albright!” yelled Sergeant Rivera, who took Hank’s statement personally.

“When you’re the mayor, you can do it your way!” shouted Lindsey. Her attitude was obvious. She was no longer interested in talk. She turned angrily toward Jock. “Are you gonna move these people out of our way, or do I have to do it?”

Hank tried to appeal to Jock’s sense of decency. He was a law enforcement officer and had trained with the finest in the nation. Hank hoped Jock was growing weary of Lindsey’s tyrannical demands.

“Jock, this isn’t your idea, is it? Maybe you don’t know that there’s a better option, but I believe there can be if we bring people together instead of dividing them.”

“I’m just doin’ my job, Hank,” he replied unenthusiastically.

Mike stepped forward to address his former boss. “We swore an oath, Jock. We promised the people of the Keys we’d never betray the public trust. We assured them we’d maintain the highest ethical standards, and this is important. We made a solemn vow to uphold the values of our community. How do these raids uphold the standards you and I both swore we’d adhere to?”

Jock grew quiet and avoided eye contact with Mike. Hank noticed some of the fight drain out of his body. Lindsey did as well.

Friday, November 15

Seven Mile Bridge

In every potentially violent confrontation, there was a point of no return. It was that precise moment during which the two opposing combatants either decided the fight wasn’t worth the trouble, or, in the case of a highly charged, emotional showdown, a mistake was made that resulted in blood pouring onto the streets.

Lindsey became more agitated and animated as she turned on her sheriff and lover. “Dammit, Jock! I’m ordering you to arrest these people. Take them down and move them out of the way.”

Jock stared back at her, his body frozen from indecision. Or perhaps he refused to comply with her demands because he disagreed with her. Regardless of his thoughts in the moment, the impulsive mayor was prepared to act on her own.

She shoved Jock forcefully in the chest, causing him to lose his balance. He stepped back a couple of steps until he was near his line of armed SWAT team members. With fire in her eyes, Lindsey followed him, her finger pointing toward his chest as if she were prepared to shove him again. Instead, she caught everyone off guard.

Lindsey abruptly turned and reached for the barrel of one of the deputy’s rifles. He deftly pulled it away, but she wasn’t deterred. She grabbed for another. And another. All of the men were protecting their weapons as the wild-eyed Lindsey tried desperately to grab a rifle. Then all at once, the SWAT team and Sheriff Jock turned their attention back toward the Albrights and Frees.

Less than a quarter mile away, the sound of shuffling feet approached. Then muffled voices filled the deathly silence that had come over the Seven Mile Bridge. Everyone turned to focus their attention on the heads and shoulders that rose above the hoods and trunks of the cars blocking their advance. People turned sideways to slide by. Others used the bumpers to climb up and over the obstacles.

Hank Albright began to cry. Erin hugged him, and then the rest of his family gathered around. Tears flowed. Nervous laughter poured out of their mouths, stifled by some as they clamped their hands over grinning lips. Smiles and hugs were generously shared.

For as far as the eye could see, the people of the Middle and Upper Keys were coming. Hundreds of them. More likely, thousands. Some looked disheveled. Others appeared injured in some way. A few needed the assistance of a friend or family member to join the rest.

They were coming to stand up to Lindsey and the sheriff. They were holding their heads high with confidence and pride to support Hank and his family. Those who could manage a smile did. Those who still had tears to shed let them come out without any misgivings.

This was their fight, too.

In the middle of the pack, County Commissioner Bud Marino walked alongside the other two commissioners who would oppose Lindsey. They were accompanied by the attorney Mrs. Morton, who would provide them the legal means to oust the tyrannical mayor.