Bobby Akart - Desolation

Erin got them started, and Hank began to scan the water, both of them realizing that any hope of finding Jimmy alive was diminishing with each passing hour.

Sunday, November 10

Stump Pass at Derelict Key

Florida Bay

Under normal circumstances, Jimmy Free could swim several hundred yards in just minutes, whether above water or below the surface. When he dove into Stump Pass, a tiny opening of Florida Bay between Derelict Key and the island just to the north, his mind told him the quick swim would be an easy one.

Halfway across the pass, his body told him otherwise. Jimmy didn’t know if it was possible for the body to use up its adrenaline, but it apparently failed to produce enough to carry him the few hundred yards necessary to reach the next key.

He began to tire and suddenly found himself struggling, frantically treading water. Then he floated on his back to catch his breath and regain his strength, but his inability to concentrate resulted in his face frequently falling beneath the surface. The young man who was once capable of holding his breath underwater for more than ten minutes found himself choking for air after a few seconds.

Jimmy furiously began to tread water again, barely ten feet above a sandbar beneath his feet that would appear at low tide hours later. He rolled onto his back and gently kicked his legs to propel himself toward the next island.

Gaining confidence, he kicked a little harder after turning his head and shoulders to gauge his direction. He kept a steady pace over the next two hundred feet. That was when his head was bumped by something floating on top of the water. He quickly turned his body around to see what he’d encountered.

The beady eyes of two water snakes stared at him. In his exhausted, disoriented state, Jimmy panicked. He quickly turned and began swimming in the other direction. Had he been coherent and healthy, he would know that water snakes are nonvenomous in the Keys. The two solid-black salt marsh water snakes were simply foraging for tadpoles in the brackish water. However, his mind refused to allow him to apply logic to the startling confrontation.

Instead of swimming back toward Derelict Key, he took off into the middle of Florida Bay. Within a minute, fear fueled his adrenal glands, and he found the ability to swim again, albeit in the wrong direction. He looked back to see how much distance he’d put between himself and the snakes. He couldn’t see them or Derelict Key.

Once again, Jimmy floated on his back to regain his strength. He closed his eyes to force his body and mind to relax.

Focus, Jimmy. Focus.

He began to control his breathing. His mind blocked out the fear and the formidable task of survival. He allowed his mind to float away, imagining being lost at sea with land nowhere in sight. He was similarly situated because of the poor visibility caused by nuclear winter. Although he was near land to his immediate north and west, he couldn’t see it and had no way of gaining his bearings.

Jimmy began to tread water in an effort to determine where the sun was in the sky. He had no idea what time of day it was. From morning to night, the gray skies became lighter and then darker. It was impossible to determine if it was eight in the morning or five in the afternoon.

Whether it was exhaustion or the ingestion of saltwater or the dehydration, Jimmy was becoming incoherent. He was having trouble determining where he was and how he’d gotten there. He thought he’d been swimming against the current, back toward Key Largo. However, he became confused. Was he swimming in the direction the hurricane had traveled? Or was he going with the current to the closest stretch of sandbar?

He chose a course and began swimming again. He’d been in the water for what seemed like an hour, but it could’ve been two hours or twenty minutes. His mind refused to allow him any form of coherent, conscious thought.

He developed a pattern of swimming for ten minutes followed by treading water or simply floating on his back, giving his shoulders and legs a chance to rejuvenate or, at least, to find the stamina to start again.

His mind and body began to recover. He chastised himself for getting spooked by the harmless snakes. He continued swimming toward what he was certain to be east. The sky appeared to be a darker shade of gray than what was behind him. He stopped again, allowing his legs to drop beneath his body as he swung his arms to release the tension. He couldn’t see land, but he was certain he knew where it was.

“That way,” he muttered as he pointed toward the east. He was partly right. He continued to swim, hoping land would materialize on the horizon. He focused on keeping the lighter shade of sky behind him. His eyes felt scarred from the sea spray the night of the hurricane. He was unable to produce tears to wash them and to help correct the burning sensation.

His legs felt like lead, and his thigh muscles twitched and convulsed. Jimmy was beginning to lose the adrenaline rush, and doubt crept into his mind. The logical part of his brain, the frontal lobe that reasoned, screamed at him to keep going or he’d drown.

Jimmy began to frog-kick and used a breaststroke to propel his body ahead. The change of swimming technique seemed to rejuvenate him. He was making some progress, and then his heart leapt as mangroves appeared in the distance.

He ignored the small, gray-green waves that hit his face each time he thrust his arms outward and pushed the water to swim. He was doing his best to avoid ingesting it, but there was little he could do to keep it out of his eyes.

His muscles screamed in agony, but he continued. Jimmy knew there were many ways to die while stranded in the water. Hypothermia, especially in these atmospheric conditions, was one of them. The reduced temperatures had lowered the water temperature substantially. His core was reaching a temperature that was on the verge of being hypothermic.

Jimmy continued to swim, turning his head as another small wave rolled under his body. His mind began to wander to his parents. Were they worried about him? Were they looking for him? Did Peter make it to safety? If he did, why didn’t he bring a search party?

Jimmy had always been attuned to his surroundings, especially on the water. He could recall sounds and smells and tastes regarding the ocean so vividly that they became real even though he might be lying in bed at night. He was using this same application of sensory memory to force his mind to focus on his mother and father. He could smell and taste Phoebe’s cooking as if he were sitting alongside her at the kitchen table. He could hear Sonny teaching him about the greenhouse or hydroponics or whatever wisdom a father found necessary to impart upon his son.

He tried not to think about the dire situation he was in. He tried to push out of his mind the requirement to tread water in order to stay alive. He forced himself to remember bright moments in his life with his parents as well as with his extended family, the Albrights.

He started with ordinary activities like fishing or scuba diving, but then he drilled down to the minutiae, every meaningless detail of diving at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park. He knew every square inch of those reefs. He recalled the ones he could reach without the aid of scuba gear. He thought about the girls he’d met at the inn, who begged him to take them diving.

This exercise kept him alert and reminded him of how great his life had been. It took his mind off his body and the pain it was enduring to keep him afloat. It took him out of Florida Bay for a moment to a more pleasant place where he wasn’t shivering or fearful of losing his life.