Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(7)
“I’ll look into it,” Cal replied. “We’ve got a board meeting next week.”
6
ON THURSDAY MORNING, Stone discovered a lot of corrugated aluminum storm shutters in a closet, and he and George tried putting them up. It helped that they had been cut to size; it didn’t help that there was no hardware for them, requiring Stone to make a trip to Strump’s, the local hardware store, where he found the place stripped of plywood supplies and a great deal else. He found the hardware he needed, though.
They put up all the shutters except for those belonging to the master suite and Dino and Viv’s guest room, which would have made them very dark. The gas company arrived and filled the house’s propane tank, which would run the generator, if it were needed. Stone began to feel that they were ready.
They had dinner on the beach, at Salute!, and the owner told them he would be closing the following day. “I’ve got to give my people time to get out,” he said. “At least, those who aren’t sweating it out here. Tomorrow, we wouldn’t have any food or customers left.”
“I’m beginning to feel like the Germans are going to bomb us,” Dino said. “Are you sure we shouldn’t leave tomorrow, Stone?”
“There’s really no need, Dino. The Weather Channel and the National Weather Service will keep us informed. If the storm speeds up, we will, too.”
* * *
—
THE FOLLOWING MORNING it began to get breezy, 20 mph winds, gusting thirty. The hurricane was raking the north coast of Puerto Rico and was headed for Cuba. Stone was hoping the encounter with Cuba would start the storm turning north, sparing Key West a lot of wind and tidal surge, which was more dangerous than the wind.
He found Holly sitting at his computer in his study. “What are you looking for?” he asked.
“How much elevation does this house have?” she asked.
“Eighteen feet, or so they told me when I bought it.”
“This is a city map of elevations,” she said, pointing at a place on it. “Isn’t this about where the house is?”
“That’s right,” Stone said.
“The map says your elevation here is eight and a half feet,” she said.
Stone looked at the map. “You’re right,” he said.
Cal Waters was tending to a couple of small things around the place. “Cal,” Stone asked, “what are our chances of flooding here?”
“Well, Hurricane Wilma, a few years back gave us the worst flooding we’ve ever had: at the yacht club, the water was nearly up to the bar top, and there was four feet of water on North Roosevelt Boulevard. A lot of houses that had never taken water before were flooded, and a lot of cars were lost. Your place wasn’t flooded, and neither was mine, and that’s a good sign. If the eye hits us, though, and we get a fifteen-to-twenty-foot tidal surge, the whole island will be underwater, but that’s the least likely prospect, I figure.”
Stone turned up the volume on the TV: they were keeping the Weather Channel on constantly now. Dino and Viv came into the room. “Okay,” Stone said, “we’ll head for New York tomorrow morning, first thing. Holly, will you come to New York with us, or do we have to drop you off?”
“They’re not expecting me back until the middle of next week,” she replied, “so I’ll come to New York for a few days.”
“Hey,” Dino said, “look at this.”
On the TV, Senator Joe Box was being interviewed by a Weather Channel reporter. “Senator, what’s your advice to the people of the Keys?”
“Well,” Box said, “it’s a great time for a vacation up north of here, I think.”
“Is that what you’re going to do?”
“My home is in Orange Beach,” he said, “in the Panhandle, but it looks like the storm is going to hit there, too. I may just hunker down in Key West. Still, my advice to everybody is to get the hell out of here, unless you’ve got a very strongly built house, or unless you’re very brave or very stupid.”
Cal spoke up. “He lives just a few blocks from here,” he said, “and he’s got a strong house. I’ve done some work on it in the past.”
“Well, leaving tomorrow will give us a twenty-four-hour head start on Irma,” Stone said. “We’ll be in New York before the storm hits Key West.”
“It’s a good thing you’re flying,” Cal said. “There’s only one road out of here, U.S. One, and that’s already jammed with people driving north. There’s no gasoline left in the Keys, either, and before the day is out the grocery stores will be stripped of food and water, and they’ll just close for the duration.”
A few minutes later, Stone went into the garage, got into the car, switched on the ignition and checked the fuel gauge. He had considerably less than a quarter of a tank of gasoline; the gauge was nearly at the “low fuel” point, when the warning light would come on, and there would be two gallons left in the tank. Given the traffic conditions on U.S. One, he wouldn’t see gas available again until Miami, if then. Driving out of there was not going to be an option.
He went back into the study, where his guests were staring, mesmerized, at the Weather Channel.