Nuclear Winter Armageddon by Bobby Akart (ebook reader 7 inch txt) 📗

There were reports of gas and boat thefts from last night. Apparently, or at least the working theory is that the three men we encountered might be part of a larger group working the keys. The boatyards were the hardest hit. There was a report of another yacht being ransacked.”

“Unbelievable,” said Hank.

“A local fisherman from Stock Island and his wife were found dead. Their shrimp boat was missing, too. Hank, I gotta tell ya’, this is just the beginning. The amount of panic on the other side of that bridge is beyond comprehension.” She pointed toward the sole access point to the outside world from Driftwood Key.

“Are you saying on the mainland or here in the Keys?” Hank asked as he backed away from her to retrieve his rifle. He’d let his bandana drop to his chin while he talked with her, and his voice was beginning to feel raspy.

Jessica raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Both, really. Although our immediate concern is here. We’ve secured the land-based access to the Keys. We’re still working diligently to ferret out who doesn’t live here and send them on their way. However, once word spread that the sheriff was removing nonresidents, they found a way to hide from us.”

They stepped off the dock and were greeted by Jimmy. “Hey, Jess. I think I heard Mike’s truck pulling onto the island.”

She looked back toward the setting sun. There was maybe an hour of daylight left.

“He’s earlier than I expected.”

The trio heard a car door slam, and Mike came lumbering through a path carved under a group of palm trees following years of use. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder and another one in his right hand. In his left hand, he carried a military-style, forest green ammunition can. The heavy weight caused his body to list to the left.

Hank noticed the effort Mike was using, so he patted Jimmy on the back and urged him to help Mike with the load. The two men spoke for a moment, and then Jimmy took the ammunition can together with the two rifles to the main house.

“New toys?” asked Jessica, who kissed her husband on the cheek.

“Yeah, military stuff, too. Full-auto M4 carbines. The governor has declared martial law in Florida.”

“That’s not surprising considering the power situation,” said Jessica. “That may be why the sheriff pulled me off traffic and onto pirate patrol.” She pointed with her thumb over her shoulder toward the dock.

Mike looked past her and nodded. “I heard. In hindsight, I wish we’d tied those three amigos to the dock pilings and reported it.”

“Why? Who’s gonna investigate it? You?”

“True,” said Mike. “Actually, since the power’s been out all day, I’ve been unable to charge my radio, so I couldn’t reach you. They found another body in Key West.”

“Dammit,” muttered Jessica. “Same MO?”

“I hope so,” replied Mike.

Hank was confused. He stood a little taller and asked, “What does it mean?”

“Well, from what I was told, this guy has really stepped up his game. He’s gone from bludgeoning and hacking to more precise dismemberment using power tools.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Jessica. “Power tools?”

“How do you know this?” asked Hank.

“That’s why I’m here early,” began Mike in his response. “A few reasons, actually. I need to trade radios with you, Hank. Don’t you keep it charged in the kitchen?”

“Yeah. I haven’t used it although it’s turned on. Phoebe fires up the generator every four hours for forty-five minutes or so to keep the coolers’ temperatures where they belong. That also allows her to recharge the radio.”

“Yeah, it’s a rapid charger,” said Jess. She pulled her radio from her utility belt. “I charged mine on the boat. It’s good to go.”

The two traded radios, and then Mike continued. “It’s gonna be a late night for me. Here’s what I know.” He paused to take a deep breath and look around the beach. Then he explained, “Until today, the city was running their garbage pickups to try to maintain some semblance of sanitation around Key West. The bars are still opening at night despite the governor’s order to shut down. We don’t have the manpower to police it. Our priority has been to remove people from the Keys.

“Anyway, they didn’t pick up along Duval and Caroline Street this morning. Apparently, some transients were dumpster diving and opened up a few heavy-duty black trash bags. They found body parts.”

Jessica put her hands on her hips and walked in a circle, looking at the sky. “That’s the extent that this guy tried to cover his tracks? Trash bags in a dumpster?”

“Yep, apparently so,” replied Mike. He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his wrist. Despite the falling temperatures, his adrenaline was causing him to overheat. “But here’s what it tells me. He’s likely a local. He’s got a place downtown where he feels he can comfortably dismember a body with a power tool of some kind without being discovered. He knows our routines, including the garbage pickup schedule. He’s brazen enough to casually dump the body in a dumpster without fear of being caught by a very overworked police department.”

“He’ll make a mistake because he’s getting cocky,” opined Hank.

“Very astute observation, Detective Hank Albright,” said his younger brother with a chuckle. He patted Hank on the shoulder. “I’m gonna head to the coroner’s office to look at the remains and study the area where the body was found. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll have a chance to meet this asshole.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Tuesday, October 29

Holden, Utah

After filling the tank with fuel, Owen and Tucker worked together to strap the remaining containers to the top of the Bronco using heavy-duty ratchet straps they discovered in the maintenance shed. They ran the straps through the handles, under the roof into the interior of the truck and out the other side. The configuration still allowed them to close the doors while the fuel cans were firmly attached to the roof. Even at sixty-five miles an hour,