She and Sonny worked together to get him upright. His eyes were darting around wildly, and mucus was dripping out of his nose. Sonny lovingly wiped his face and moved his stringy wet hair out of his eyes. Jessica slowly poured an ounce or two of water into Jimmy’s mouth, monitoring his intake so he didn’t gulp down too much.
He coughed again, and Jessica gently patted him between the shoulder blades. She spoke in a calm voice. “That’s okay, Jimmy. This will take a few times. Slowly, okay?”
She allowed him a little water. This time, he let the soothing moisture trickle down his throat. Jimmy closed his eyes for a moment until a single tear dripped down his cheek. Then he managed a smile and nodded.
All he could manage was a whisper, but his words spoke volumes.
“Love you, Dad.”
CHAPTER SIX
Sunday, November 10
Gulf of Mexico
For several minutes after Hank sped away from where Jimmy had been found, he glanced back toward Florida Bay, trying to catch a glimpse of Jessica’s WET boat speeding toward Tavernier. He desperately wanted to be with the young man who’d grown up with Peter and practically became a part of the Albright family. Sonny, Phoebe, and Jimmy had lived on Driftwood Key for nearly three decades. They’d experienced loss together and enjoyed the island living the Keys afforded. Jimmy’s death would be devastating.
Erin moved next to Hank on the bench seat and began to rub his shoulders. The touch of a woman caused him to break down in tears. Men tried to remain stoic in a crisis. They want to shoulder the burden of solving the problem or being the family rock—strong, solid, and unchanging.
Yet Hank was a considerably empathetic and caring man who tried to put others’ emotional needs ahead of his own. That was one of the reasons he was having difficulty accepting the collapse of society that continued to unfold during nuclear winter.
As the proprietor of the Driftwood Key Inn, he enjoyed tending to his guests’ needs. It bothered him that he’d had to ask them to leave in anticipation of what was coming. Deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do. His guests needed to get home before conditions worsened.
When Patrick Hollister showed up at their doorstep, figuratively speaking, Hank readily took him in. He wanted to help a fellow conch in his time of need. Nowadays, the number of people born in the Keys, known as a conch, were outnumbered by the newcomers. Patrick was an original. He’d also turned out to be a serial killer.
Even that experience didn’t tamp down Hank’s desire to help others survive. He simply had to change his mindset. For one, he had to ensure he could take care of his own first. That included his immediate family and, of course, the Frees. Secondly, those in need didn’t include anyone who tried to steal from him.
As society continued to collapse, the use of violence to survive had increased beyond his wildest imagination. There had been gunfights at Driftwood Key, the kind you see in the movies. Marauders at the gate, so to speak. Hank was certain these encounters would increase as people became more desperate.
He was relieved that his family was together again, albeit without his son-in-law, Owen. He was a good man. A loving father to Tucker and a devoted husband to Lacey. Hank had immediately hit it off with Owen when Lacey brought him home for the first time. The suddenness of Lacey’s return coupled with the search for Jimmy hadn’t given Hank time to process Owen’s death. He wondered if and when life in the apocalypse would allow them the opportunity to talk it through.
Hank took a deep breath and exhaled. This was all weighty stuff, and he desperately wanted to clear his head before he arrived at Driftwood Key. He needed to provide Phoebe hope that her son would survive, without overpromising. When Hank saw her son last, he wasn’t breathing.
“Hank, I feel like I know you well enough to feel the heavy burden you’re carrying,” said Erin, interrupting his thoughts. She stopped rubbing his shoulders and moved around the seat to lean against the helm, where she could study his face. “I spent enough time with you and your family those few days to know that young man is in good hands. He’ll pull through.”
Hank managed a smile and made eye contact with Erin. He’d been laser focused on the waters ahead of him. There was a substantial amount of debris floating in the Gulf as a result of the hurricane. Because there had been little or no warning to most residents, the normal precautions weren’t undertaken to secure their belongings.
Tears began to flow as Hank spoke. “I can’t tell Phoebe the truth, but I can’t lie either. A mother looks for words of optimism and hope when her child is injured. I can’t say he was lying on the deck of a boat, not breathing because he’d drowned.”
“I understand. However, I believe Jessica is a very capable, take-charge first responder. In her care, I think Jimmy has a chance. Plus, we don’t know for certain; therefore, you can offer her hope.”
Hank chuckled and wiped the tears from his face. “My father used to say things like that when he was supporting me as my wife passed away. She had many chances to live and fought hard to do so. In the end the disease defeated her.”
“You have to channel your father’s words of encouragement, Hank. You’ve experienced grief, and from what I recall, Phoebe was there to help you through it. Think back to how she helped you when your wife was ill.”
“She fed me,” said Hank, laughing now as he thought of those days when Phoebe would dote on him like he was her grandchild.
Erin also laughed. “Okay, well, we don’t want you to put her in mortal danger, now do we? Perhaps you can find some other way to comfort her without invading her kitchen.”
Hank reached out and took Erin’s hand in his. She’d gently yanked him out of his melancholy state of mind and turned him back into the rock of the family everyone relied upon.
“Thank you. I was, um, as the kids say, having a moment.”
“You can have a moment, Hank. You’re entitled.” Erin pointed ahead. They were approaching the dock at Driftwood Key. “It appears they heard us coming, so you’d better get your game face on. If you pull into the dock a blubbering mess, Phoebe will most likely freak out.”
Tucker led the way, racing through the sand. His momentum caused him to stumble slightly as he hit the dock. After regaining his footing, he got into position to take the line from Erin. His eyes studied his grandfather for a clue as to what they’d discovered, if anything.
His uncle Mike beat him to the punch. “Any news?” he asked as Erin tossed him the bow line. Mike was recovering from his knife wound and healing remarkably well. He was moving slower than normal, as he was consciously aware of his sutures and the pain associated with certain activities.
Phoebe was crying, sobbing and struggling to catch her breath. Erin didn’t hesitate. She climbed onto the side of the Hatteras and hoisted herself onto the dock. She immediately hugged Jimmy’s mother to console her until Hank could join them.
She forced her tone of voice to be upbeat. “Okay, we have good news. We found Jimmy.”
“Oh, thank God,” Phoebe said as she continued to cry. She tried to wipe the tears off her face, but they poured out too fast. Her eyes darted between Erin and Hank. It didn’t take her long to realize their demeanors were subdued and not celebratory. “Is he …? Is he okay?”
Hank moved closer and lovingly wiped the tears off Phoebe’s face. He held her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. “Phoebe, your son is a survivor. However, he’s been through a lot. For days, he’s managed to fight the hurricane and dehydration to stay afloat in Florida Bay.”