When We Are Enough (Valiant Hearts #1)

11. Patrick

Chapter 11

Patrick

E very seat at the conference table in the middle of the mayor’s office is taken, and a large map is projected on the screen in front of us, showing the predicted path of Hurricane Karen. One of the overhead lights flickers intermittently, adding a sense of foreboding to the gathering.

The mayor’s office is spacious, with large windows allowing in natural light, while the walls are adorned with paintings and photographs of the town and its history. On one side stands a bookshelf filled with law books and binders, while on the other side is a wooden desk cluttered with papers and a nameplate that reads Mayor Elaine Roberts . In the corner is a small table with a coffee machine and a plate of pastries that no one has touched.

Mayor Roberts stands next to the screen, her curly auburn hair cut short and haloing her head. She points to the map, tracing the expected path of the hurricane.

“If Karen continues on its current path, we’ll have to order an evacuation along the waterfront and several blocks back, as well as set up emergency shelters. I’m in contact with both the New Jersey Office of Emergency Management and FEMA, and we’ll make a decision in the next 48 hours.” Her voice is steady, her expression reflecting her experience and deep concern for our town’s safety.

Sheriff Kyle Donovan sits next to me and he nods in agreement. “We need to start coordinating local law enforcement and emergency services immediately.” His voice is grave, eyes flicking to me. His silver mustache twitches as he speaks.

I jot down a couple of notes, focusing on my responsibilities. “We’ll need to inspect and possibly reinforce the high school as a potential shelter. With the expected storm surges, we can’t take any risks.” I’m already mentally reviewing the equipment and manpower we have available to cope with the inundation of water.

A town council member, responsible for community services, adds her piece. “I’ll coordinate with the local churches to see how many can be converted into additional shelters. We need to ensure there’s enough space for everyone who loses power or suffers damage to their homes. We’ll need generators, food, water and other essentials to stock the shelters.”

The director of public works spreads out flood maps and points to critical areas that are most vulnerable. “These areas are the lowest and likely to flood first. We need to ensure our sandbag stations are stocked and ready, and that our drainage pumps are fully operational by tomorrow.”

“Kyle, make sure your officers are briefed on evacuation routes and check-in points.” Mayor Roberts looks at the flood maps. “And Patrick, I want the fire crews on standby for any emergencies and to help with the evacuations if it comes to that. And please, let’s all ensure our communications are clear and open. I want all directives to the community to come through my office and my office alone. We need to keep the public informed and calm, and we all know how fast rumors can spread, especially around here.”

Her frown deepens. “I’m worried about how this might impact our Founder’s Day Festival in December,” she admits, tapping her fingers anxiously on the table as she takes her seat. “ That’s two months from now. As you all know, it’s a major tourist draw and vital for our local economy in the off season.”

I shake my head. “If Karen is anywhere near as bad as Hurricane Sandy, the cleanup and rebuilding could take months.”

“ Months is optimistic,” Sheriff Kyle adds. “Some homes took years to fully repair.”

A sense of frustration settles over the table. Not only are we at the whims of mother nature, but the United States lacks a unified disaster recovery system. A patchwork of Federal agencies works with affected states, but then there are individual variables, like whether business owners and homeowners have flood insurance, how much money they have for repairs, as well as simple luck and timing.

Mayor Roberts places both hands flat on the table, a steely look hardening her features. “Whatever happens, keeping our people safe is our top priority. We’ll deal with the festival and any reconstruction efforts after we get through this. Lives are more important than the economy.”

I lean forward, nodding, agreeing with her sentiment one hundred percent. “We need to start sandbagging and shuttering shops and homes along the boardwalk by latest tomorrow. We can’t afford to leave it too late. Judging by where Karen is predicted to make landfall, the storm surges are going to cause the most damage.”

“Agreed, Patrick. We’ll be following Karen’s route closely and I’ll issue a directive within 24 hours about whether to start preparations. Assume we will be going ahead with both sandbagging and shuttering, unless she drastically changes course. And as I said—any evacuation order will be given within 48 hours. Thanks everybody. Let’s stay in close contact.”

As those at the meeting disperse, Mayor Roberts indicates she wants me to stay behind. Once we’re alone, she takes a seat beside me. We’ve known each other for years but have only been working closely together in the last year or so, when I was promoted to fire chief.

When the old fire chief moved to Alaska to be with his daughter and his new grandson, he put in a recommendation for my promotion from assistant fire chief, and Mayor Roberts supported me. She’s hired a lot of younger people and pursued innovative policies, and believes in rewarding hard work and expertise, rather than giving someone a position just because they’ve been there for a long time.

Her approach has brought a fresh perspective to our community leadership and made her wildly popular around town. I’m personally grateful, of course. I’m young to hold such a senior position, and if we lived in a bigger town or a city, it’s unlikely I’d have this role—definitely a lucky break, especially given how much I needed the pay raise.

She leans back in her chair, a worried expression on her face. “Will the Valiant Hearts be able to respond if Hurricane Karen is as bad as we fear?”

The Valiant Hearts have provided important assistance during past disasters, and our involvement could make a significant difference, especially because we have a large volunteer base within the community.

“Yes.” I’ve already called a meeting with the boys for this evening. “We’ll be ready to support you wherever you need us.”

She nods, clearly relieved. “Thank you. I need you to coordinate your efforts with mine. Let’s make sure our communication lines are open and we’re complementing each other’s work.”

“Of course, Mayor.” We shake hands.

“And take those pastries with you back to the guys at the fire station. They need them more than me. By the way, what happened to your head?”

My hand goes to the butterfly strip, thoughts rushing straight to Emmy. “It’s nothing. Just a bump.”

Walking back to the fire station with the pastries from the mayor in a bag, my thoughts are a jumble, racing between the impending hurricane and, unsurprisingly, Emmy. It seems impossible to shake her from my mind.

Her face, the genuine sweetness of her smile, and the subtle fragrance of her skin as she leaned over me last night… the warmth of her breath as she examined the cut on my forehead. The memory is tinged with both want and frustration.

It’s impossible to think rationally when she’s around. And if there was ever a time when I couldn’t afford a distraction, it’s now—it’s maddening how she’s invaded my head, and I need her out.

Pushing open the doors to the fire station, I give myself a mental shake. Now, more than ever, I need to focus: the responsibilities on my shoulders are massive, especially with Hurricane Karen barreling toward us.

Throughout the day, my crew and I keep our eyes glued to the news and weather tracking sites. The reports grow increasingly dire—Karen hits Jamaica as a category three hurricane, leaving widespread devastation in its wake, with footage of trees bent over sideways in the wind and devastated homes, massive flooding, and twenty-five poor souls already lost.

I coordinate with the crew, ensuring all equipment is ready and emergency response plans are crystal clear. Despite the rush and the focus on everything we need to prepare, and despite my best efforts, Emmy’s image sneaks into my quiet moments, her presence lingering in the back of my mind.

The day draws to a close, and I’m worn out from the preparations and mental strain, but there’s still one more critical task: the Tidal Tavern for a meeting with the Valiant Hearts. Practically jogging there, then pushing open the tavern door, I brace for a long night, my mind partly on the plans and partly, inevitably, still with Emmy.