“I am not going to ask you to violate the oath you took when you became a deputy. Nor am I going to ask you to break any laws, although which laws are enforceable and which aren’t at this point is hard to determine. I might ask, however, for you to remain focused on Marathon, where you and your families live.
“You all grew up here. This is where your kids went to school. You have to understand, for the foreseeable future, this is our world. These Keys, strung together, are going to have to sustain us for many years. In order for that to happen, the people who survive have to know they can count on you to protect them and, most importantly, do the right thing by them. That means opposing Lindsey’s plans for Monroe County. Unfortunately, that also means standing up to our boss. Or, in my case, former boss. You guys need to pick a side.”
“What do you need us to do?” asked Deputy Sanchez, who’d gained tremendous respect for Mike during the high school break-in.
“Protect and serve.”
“That’s a given,” said Sanchez. “I mean, how can we protect our people?”
“Initially two things. Please give me the courtesy of a heads-up if you hear something from the sheriff or if you no longer think I’m doing the right thing for our neighbors and families.”
“Agreed,” said two of the deputies in unison.
“Second, I’m not asking you to participate in what I’m going to do this afternoon.”
“What is it?” asked Sanchez.
Mike took a deep breath. If he was going to alienate the deputies, it would happen at this point. He chose to remind him of the video and images he’d shown him at the start of their meeting. He showed them the screen again where the video had paused. One of the deputies in riot gear was beating a man cowered on the ground.
“I refuse to allow what happened in Key West in the last few days to occur in Marathon. I’m going to stop them from coming across Seven Mile Bridge.”
“How?”
“Create the traffic jam from hell.”
Mike went from referencing hell to visiting a woman who led lost souls to Heaven. He arrived at St. Columba Episcopal Church and was surprised at the number of people who were amassed outside its doors. Despite the fact that he was no longer a deputy, Mike pulled on the lightweight jacket bearing the sheriff’s department logo. The jacket, combined with his appearance as somebody associated with the authorities, enabled him to gently push his way through the crowd to enter the church. He was amazed at what he’d discovered.
Once inside the narthex, he found tables lined up with church elders handing out bagged meals and bottled water. He searched out Reverend Messina, who was affectionately known as Reverend Deb in the community. She wasn’t among the church elders, so he moved through the narthex.
The sanctuary had been turned into a massive refuge for those who’d lost everything. Every pew was full of blankets, pillows, and a person’s belongings. Some people slept while others read books, including the Bible. Many were deep in thought and prayer. Mike shook his head in disbelief at the number of people who’d been packed into the church. They were in generally good spirits, but the look of despair on their faces wasn’t lost on him.
He set his jaw and stood a little taller, resolved to continue his family’s efforts to help as many people as they could. He spotted Reverend Messina leaning with one arm on the pulpit. She was casually dressed in jeans together with a light blue shirt and her white collar.
“Reverend Deb, I don’t know if you—” began Mike before she recognized him and politely interrupted.
“Of course I do, Detective. It’s so good to see that you’re well. I hope your family is, too.”
Mike nodded, and then his mind wandered to Owen. He genuinely liked Lacey’s husband and really hadn’t had the time to process what his death meant to the Albright family. He wondered if the passage of time might prevent them from properly mourning his loss.
“My niece, Lacey, lost her husband as she and Tucker traveled home. It was tragic, but they’re doing okay.”
“I’m so sorry, Mike. Please convey my heartfelt condolences. His name was Owen, am I correct?”
Mike was surprised that Reverend Messina remembered. He wasn’t even sure they had met. “Yes, it is, um, was.”
She reached out and patted Mike on the shoulder. “Please, let’s talk for a moment. I could use a respite.” She directed Mike’s attention to the carpeted steps leading behind the pulpit. She sat first.
“Thanks for taking the time for me when you have so much going on,” said Mike as he joined her.
“God’s work, Mike,” she said as she tugged at her clerical collar. She noticed Mike watching her, so she explained. “Habit, of course. You know, there’s an old joke among us clergy types that a curate wears a collar at all times, even a shower. Most, like me, wear them at all times, although not in the shower. Even during this devilish disaster, I find it to be a comfort to my parishioners and, honestly, to myself. God has placed us in quite a test, don’t you think?”
Mike nodded and glanced throughout the church. There were at least a hundred people residing in the small sanctuary.
“I do, and that’s why I’m here,” he replied. “Reverend Deb, the other day a group of men broke into the food-storage warehouse at the high school. We were successful in stopping them. However, they breached the building in such a way that the supplies could easily be stolen.”
“I heard the shooting. One of the residents is a church elder. I didn’t know that involved you since, you know, you’re a detective.”
Mike gulped. He hadn’t lied to his deputies, so he’d darn well better not lie to Reverend Messina. He explained the circumstances regarding his resignation and offered to show her the pictures from Key West. She respectfully declined and assured him she would trust his judgment.
They spoke for a moment about the logistics of what he wanted to accomplish. The reverend promised to help by sending out her two most trusted aides to recruit other churches in Marathon to assist in the humanitarian project. With his approval and the deputies’ supervision, they’d handle the removal of the supplies from the high school.
In the past, Reverend Messina had helped many people in crisis, especially during hurricanes. She’d established a program known as the Five-Dollar Bag Sale. Members of her congregation would donate clothes, toys, tools and other household items to be included in simple, brown grocery bags. For a five-dollar donation to the Hammock House, a local charity, purchasers could receive a wide variety of useful things for their homes.
“We are a close-knit group of clergy across all denominations,” she explained. “Our parish strives to be a strong partner in the community, which is why I’ve been involved in so many charitable endeavors. Other churches in Marathon also offer consistent and tangible ways to help people in need. I have no doubt everyone will pitch in.”
Mike smiled and thanked her for her assistance. In addition to making an important partner to help people survive nuclear winter, his day was now freed up to systematically create the mother of all bottlenecks on Seven Mile Bridge.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Thursday, November 14
Near Big Pine Key
Lacey and Tucker volunteered to conduct surveillance along the Lower Keys to monitor the sheriff’s department confiscation teams. There was too much ground to cover between Big Pine Key and Key West, so they opted to use the boat given to Peter by Captain Jax in order to search for Jimmy.
The nondescript center-console fishing boat was like thousands of others found through the Keys. It was stripped down and devoid of the modern accoutrements found on most boats capable of fishing on the ocean and gulf waters. Nonetheless, it served their purpose.