Patience and cajones paid off. Anna waited for the soldiers to pass before working her way around and over the mangrove buttress roots to get to the raft. Orestes had commandeered an old beat-up ’49 Merc station wagon and turned it into a motorized boat on the sly. Anna drove it right out of the mangroves and into the Gulf Stream. She was relieved to see it didn’t leak. Hell, even the radio worked.
Anna was in the middle of the Florida straits when she looked up and saw the luminous plume of the rocket arcing across the sky. It would get to Miami long before she did. When it disappeared over the horizon’s sea tossed edge, she stared northward wondering if an atomic bomb blast could be seen that far away.
(Please play to increase your blogging pleasure--
the music is Miami Para Mi by Adam's Apple):