It was a race up the beach, as Lacey got a head start, but the speedy Jessica quickly caught up. The two women joked as they playfully swatted at one another in their efforts to reach Mike first.
“He’s my favorite uncle!” shouted Lacey in a childlike manner.
“He’s your only uncle. He’s my husband!”
“Big deal! I’ve known him longer.” Lacey argued.
The two of them arrived at the same time. Mike had shoved his weapon into the waistband of his jeans and held up his arms to slow down the two charging women.
“Hold up, you two! Don’t forget. Knife wound.” He took a step back and gently tapped his heart with the palm of his hand.
Lacey stopped abruptly and scowled. “Knife wound? Jess said you were in the hospital. She didn’t say anything about a knife wound.”
“Long story,” said Mike with a smile. Now that the two were not moving at a pace capable of knocking him over, he opened his arms wide to hug the two most important women in his life.
“They released you early,” said Jessica as she buried her face between his neck and his shoulder.
“Yeah, long story. Speaking of long story, look at you, Lacey. You guys made it. That’s amazing.” Mike had more to say, but he stopped as he looked past the women toward the group walking toward them. He craned his neck and searched the rest of the beach. “Um, where’s Owen?”
Lacey looked into her uncle’s eyes and broke down crying again. All she could do was shake her head and bury her face against Mike’s chest. He gave them both a bear hug without speaking. There would be plenty of time to get caught up later.
Tucker joined the hugfest, and Mike pulled him close to his mom. The two locked eyes. Mike studied the young man. It had been more than a year since he’d seen Tucker. He was no longer a girl-crazy teenager who was more beach boy than young adult. That had changed. Mike could see it in his eyes. Tucker was hardened. Older than his years. And somewhat empty inside. He hadn’t given up on life. But it did appear he’d seen things that Mike felt sure he needed to talk about. He vowed to be Tucker’s sounding board when the time came.
“Let’s all go inside,” said Phoebe. “I know everyone is hungry, and I’m sure these two are tired of wearing the same clothes. Lacey, Tucker, I’ve had your rooms ready for you since this all started. And I can arrange for a hot shower for you. You have to make it quick, though.”
“Yeet!” shouted Tucker, one of the few times he’d been able to genuinely show his excitement. He rushed to his grandfather’s side, and the two of them walked with their arms wrapped around one another’s waist toward the main house. Tucker explained to Hank what he’d observed in the last hours of their trip home. The number of Coast Guard ships caught Hank’s attention, and he told Tucker to discuss this in more detail with Jessica.
Meanwhile, Jessica and Lacey tore themselves away from Mike and began marching toward the house arm in arm. “You’ve lost weight, girl,” said Jessica as she examined Lacey’s frame.
“Yeah, um, we didn’t always have much to eat. How are you guys doing? Can you still grow things in the greenhouses?”
“Yep. Hydroponics, too. Fish are still available although we have to go farther out. Jimmy knows all the best spots.”
“We gotta find him, Jess. I can see it in Phoebe’s eyes. She’s suppressing her feelings, and that’s not good.”
Jessica nodded. She leaned into Lacey and whispered, “Peter’s trying to remain positive, but I know those waters. It would be near impossible for him to tread water for this long. He’s a great swimmer, but I think we would’ve heard something by now. You know?”
Lacey sighed and rolled her neck around her shoulders. She was exhausted, but she didn’t want to be the reason the group didn’t start their search.
“Listen. A hot shower and some of Phoebe’s cooking and we’ll be good to go. But I guarantee we crash hard tonight.”
Jessica squeezed Lacey again. “I’m so glad you and Tucker made it. Owen is very proud of you. I promise.”
Lacey looked toward the sand and then up into the gray skies. “Yeah, I know.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Saturday, November 9
Driftwood Key
An hour later, the group had gathered in the dining room, where the chairs around the table were full except for Jimmy’s to the left of Sonny, and Owen’s, which was symbolically placed between Lacey and Tucker. They said a prayer before devouring a large stockpot of conch chowder doused with Cholula hot sauce and sprinkled with crushed saltine crackers. The group chatted away, allowing Lacey and Peter to alternate telling the stories of what they’d experienced along the way.
To their credit, the brother and sister avoided the details of their brushes with death. Peter managed to make lighthearted jokes about the father and son who’d fleeced so many people to give them a ride to Florida. He never detailed how they died, simply saying Mr. Uber had been put out of business.
Lacey talked about the positive aspects of their time in Otero County, Colorado, where Owen had met his demise. They were so appreciative of how Sheriff Mobley, his deputies, and everyone at the hospital had treated them. The sheriff had been representative of the town as a whole, who came together to make Lacey and Tucker feel welcome.
Hank, Mike and Jessica expressed their concerns that Lindsey’s approach to governance was completely opposite that of Sheriff Mobley. Rather than helping strangers in their time of need, she elected to kick them while they were down. Hank justified closing the inn well in advance of the attacks based upon Peter’s hunch that trouble was brewing. At least, Hank said, his guests were able to get to their homes before the bombs dropped on American soil.
While the others talked among themselves, Hank’s mind wandered to the day Erin Bergmann had left. Of all the guests of the Driftwood Key Inn during that period of uncertainty, she was the one person Hank wished had remained behind.
His mind wandered to recall their time together. He’d enjoyed walking along the beach with her in the morning, something he’d never done with another woman besides his wife before she died. It had been their serious conversation sitting on the trunk of a palm tree about the prospects of nuclear war and the aftermath, nuclear winter, that had led Hank to the difficult decision to empty the rooms at the inn. It had also prodded him to take so many steps to prepare for the climate disaster that had been unfolding for weeks.
In many ways, Erin had had a profound impact on his life. He’d learned he could find love again and that there was a partner out there who could provide him the strength to survive.
Hank rolled a piece of conch around in his soup bowl as he thought about that last day together. The fishing trip that had almost landed a trophy fish that would provide a lifetime of stories. The sudden appearance of the Coast Guard boat that had whisked her away to Washington.
Hank caught himself as his daydream of Erin became a little too real. He thought he could hear the steady beating of helicopter rotors offshore. He hadn’t seen or heard any kind of aircraft since the bombs dropped. He assumed there must’ve been some type of no-fly order in place around the country.
He dropped his spoon and pushed away from the table, where the rest of his family continued to chat about the new arrivals’ experiences outside the Keys. He slowly walked toward the windows of the dining room, which overlooked the beach and the grassy lawn that was slowly turning brown.