He could hear her shuffling around the room. A shadow appeared by the curtains, and then the door slowly opened. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and her nose continued to run. She nervously wiped the mucus onto her sleeve.
“Did they leave?” she said in a loud whisper, her eyes darting around in fear.
“Yes, but I don’t know why,” replied Peter.
“I do,” said a sheepish voice to his right. It was the daughter.
The two women ran into each other’s arms and began to cry uncontrollably. After a moment, they broke their embrace, and the mother searched her daughter’s eyes for answers to the obvious question.
Peter had watched similar scenes unfold on television programs, but nothing compared to the real-life angst shared by two women who dreaded the inevitable assault they would be forced to endure. In that moment, he knew what had to be done, and he would carry out the task without remorse or compunction.
He averted his eyes to scan the parking lot. With no electricity and, thus far, no other traffic, the rumbling of the Cummings diesel engine would provide him some warning of the men’s return. However, he needed to come up with a plan.
“Ladies, um, I’m sorry. Um, you said you know why they left.”
“Yes,” replied the daughter. “They have a friend who works at the paper mill we passed. He’s going to let them fill up their truck.”
Peter’s suspicions were confirmed. Now for the hard part. He addressed the mother.
“Listen. We don’t have much time. Are they going to…?” His voice trailed off. He didn’t have the courage to say the word rape out loud. Not that it mattered. The mother knew exactly what he wanted to ask. She simply nodded rapidly and began to cry. The women held each other again, shaking as the tears rolled down their faces. Peter imagined the deal with Mr. Uber and son had been struck with trepidation back at Hickory. However, reality had hit them, and they clearly were unable to go through with it. Nor should they.
Rafael approached them. “What’s going on?”
Peter motioned for him to step a few paces away from the women. “Those assholes went back up the highway to refuel. Rafael, we don’t have much time. They’re gonna rape these two. Plain and simple. And I’m not gonna let it happen.”
Rafael studied Peter’s eyes and glanced over at the mother and daughter, who continued to cry, before looking toward the highway. Then he said something Peter hadn’t asked for, much less expected.
“I’ll help you.”
“Wait, you can’t. Your family might be—”
Rafael cut him off by calling for his wife. “Maria! Please. Come!”
Maria walked briskly across the parking lot, and Rafael met her halfway. After a brief exchange, they approached the two women. Peter joined them.
“This is my wife, Maria,” Rafael began as the two women focused their attention toward her. “Please go with her to our room and stay for a while.”
“But he said he would—” The daughter tried to relay the threat she’d received before Maria interrupted.
“No, honey. None of that is going to happen. You must hurry. Come with me.”
The mother turned to Peter with sullen, but hopeful eyes. “Are you sure? They have guns.”
“We’re sure. Go.”
Rafael gently placed his arm behind their backs and urged them to follow his wife. Then he issued instructions to the rest of the passengers.
“Everyone! Listen to me. Go back to your rooms and barricade the doors. Stay away from the windows and don’t come out until we say so. Do you understand?”
“Why?”
“What’s happening?”
“Why did they leave us?”
Off in the distance, the roar of the cargo truck’s engine could be heard as the driver shifted gears. Peter ran to Rafael’s side. He pulled the weapon from his waistband and handed it to Rafael grip first.
“They’re coming back.”
Rafael shouted at the others, “Hurry. Get in your rooms. Now!”
At the sight of the two men brandishing their weapons, the other passengers became frightened and scampered back to their rooms. Peter and Rafael eased back under the canopy and prepared to fight.
“What are you thinking?” asked Peter.
“We wait in the rooms for them. They’re expecting the women to be there. They’ll find us instead.”
“Take ’em out?” asked Peter, wanting to confirm Rafael was prepared to kill the men, just as he was.
“Without hesitation,” came the response.
Peter made a fist and presented it to Rafael, who immediately bumped it in return. They moved quickly to get into position.
Barely a minute later, the truck slowed and eased into the parking lot of the motel. Peter’s heart raced as he assumed the role of assassin. He wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead that began to drip toward his eyebrows despite the chilly temperatures. The truck shut off, and the sound of the heavy steel doors slamming indicated the men were heading his way. Using the barrel of his gun, he nudged the musty nylon curtain aside to watch for Mr. Uber’s approach. Then his eyes grew wide.
“What the hell?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Sunday, November 3
Driftwood Key
One would think during the apocalypse that people would have all kinds of free time on their hands. No jobs. No television. No extracurricular activities. Wrong. Every moment of every day was dedicated to sustaining themselves through growing food or fishing. Plus, as external threats grew, security became tantamount. If you can’t defend it, it isn’t yours.
It took a day and a half after the mayor’s contentious visit for Hank to meet with Sonny, Phoebe and Jimmy. This was followed by a serious conversation with Mike and Jessica around the bonfire on the beach. For the first time that Hank could remember, the group discussed the fate of Driftwood Key without passing out adult beverages.
“What did you think of the martial law declaration?” Hank asked his brother.
Mike paced through the sand, periodically stopping to mindlessly flatten out a mound only to build it up again with his feet. “It’s pretty simple. The only people around here who are free happen to have that word as their last name. The president has taken over every aspect of our country while eviscerating the Bill of Rights. Lindsey’s threats are real and could be backed up by force if necessary.”
Jessica wasn’t so sure. “Come on, guys. How far would she go?”
“I don’t know, Jess,” replied Mike. “But the way that thing reads, what’s ours is theirs. Hell, they could strip it all away if they want. Food. Guns. Boats. The damn deed to the property!”
“I just can’t believe it would go that far,” said Jessica. “People would never stand for it.”
“Some might,” mumbled Hank.
“Whadya mean?” she asked.
“Think about it. How many residents or businesses have an operation close to what we have here? Very few, if any. Right? So who’s gonna stand up to Lindsey and whatever kind of force she employs to take what we have? Us and a handful of others. The majority of the rest might welcome her actions.”
Jessica grimaced. She still couldn’t believe these types of drastic measures were being contemplated. “But, Hank, the mayor has to know if they took everything we have and kicked us off the Keys, there wouldn’t be enough to feed all the mouths who weren’t ready for this.”
“Jessica, if you saw the look in her eyes yesterday, you’d know that she meant business. We’ve known Lindsey for a long time. She’s conniving, but once she has the power, she doesn’t bluff.”
Mike finally sat down. “What’s the plan?”
Hank took a deep breath and relayed his thoughts. “We give them something. Just a little bit at a time.”