Island Refuge EMP Box Set | Books 1-3

by Hamilton, Grace

  “You got almost three good hours of sleep,” Elna said. “Are you ready to make another trip down the hill?”

  “How are you still going?” Malin replied.

  “I didn’t make the mistake of sitting down,” she said. “Come on, Malin. They’re waiting for us down there.”

  Don’t think about it. Just do it, he thought. He would gladly have curled up on the floor and gotten about ten more hours of sleep, but he moved toward the back door instead.

  “Someone has to keep an eye on Dominic,” Selene said. “It’s not safe to leave him by himself, even if he’s tied up. I would do it myself, but…”

  “Leave him to me,” George said. “I’ll keep watch over him while the others bring up the rest of the supplies.”

  Malin scarcely heard them. It took every ounce of concentration to get moving, but once he made it outside, the fresh island air helped wake him up a bit. Above the darkness of the vineyard, the splash of stars across the sky was particularly brilliant. He was soaking it in when Elna came up behind him and clapped him on the back, shining a flashlight in his face.

  “You don’t even seem tired,” he said. “It’s amazing.”

  “You’ll get your second wind,” she said. “You just have to push through.”

  “I guess we’ll find out.”

  The heat had dissipated with the coming of night, and he found the crisp air invigorating. Indeed, by the time they came in sight of the lighthouse, which rose from the gloom like a ghost, he felt like he’d had a full night’s sleep. Crisscrossing flashlight beams shone around the front of the brick building. Norman and Garret seemed to be hard at work on something, though Malin couldn’t yet tell what it was.

  “I’m glad Garret decided to be useful,” he said, as they approached the gap in the fence. A few more posts had been wrenched away from the crossbeam, making the gap in the fence quite a bit bigger. “He does have a decent side in there somewhere.”

  “Maybe he just needed something constructive to do,” Elna said. “Something to take his mind off the fear.”

  As Malin passed through the fence, he realized Norman and Garret were doing something with the bicycles. Elna shone her flashlight in their direction, and the project became clear. Using a big piece of sheet metal and some pallets, they had fashioned a crude but functional cart. The sheet metal was attached near the back, pallets set on top to give a bit more stability. This left plenty of room for riders.

  “That’s brilliant,” Malin said. “Who came up with the design?”

  Norman pointed at Garret. “All him.”

  Garret gave Malin a stern look, as if to say, You doubted me?

  “There’s a lot more stuff in the big building,” Garret said. “Let’s load up. This should hold a few hundred pounds easy.” He smacked the edge of his makeshift cart. “There are extra tubes and tires for the bikes, a bike pump, containers—all kinds of stuff. Dominic must’ve been making trips to the island for a while. It’s the only explanation. What do you bet he’s got her passwords and reads her emails? Found out she was coming here, and settled in early? Well, it’s all ours now. Let’s get it all this time so we don’t have to make another trip.”

  “Good work, Garret,” Elna said, moving past him toward the building.

  He gave her a weird narrow-eyed smile, half-sarcastic and half-proud, but she didn’t catch it. In the end, they fit quite a bit more than Malin expected, stacking a couple of large boxes onto the cart and filling them both to the brim with all sorts of supplies scavenged from the big building. Norman and Garret rode the bikes, and though they had to work on their coordination, they managed to get the thing moving. After passing through the gate, they quickly left Elna and Malin in the dust.

  “I think I’ve finally figured out how to get water from the shore to the guesthouse,” Elna said, as they trudged back up the hill.

  “Do tell,” Malin replied.

  “I’ll construct a short-distance water pump that will allow us to hand-pump water into that big plastic barrel,” she said. “Then we use pipes, hoses, and sheet metal to build a gravity-fed aqueduct. From time to time, we walk down there and fill up the bucket, then we let gravity do the rest of the work. Once I perfect desalination, we’ll be good to go.”

  Malin didn’t have the mind of an engineer, but he could vaguely imagine her design. How she’d come up with the idea just by rooting around in rusty old supplies was beyond him. “You’re a bit of a genius, I have to say.”

  Elna gave him a broad, embarrassed smile and quickly looked away. She was a nice girl, smart and friendly, and not bad to look at.

  Shame she’s single, he thought. But, of course, that wasn’t his problem. He had someone waiting for him across the broken bridges. Still, as Elna reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, he thought, Maybe in another life.

  Once they finally got back to the guesthouse, Malin got a real sense of just how much junk they had hauled in from around the island. It filled half the tasting room and spilled out into the yard: stacks and stacks of tools, raw materials, and various supplies. The smell of rust, metal, and old wood intermingled in the air. Norman and Garret were already hard at work unloading their makeshift cart, and Malin joined them, though his second wind had long since died out.

  When they were done, Malin brushed his dirty hands together and stumbled over to the bar, collapsing on the smooth wood surface. He reached for a nearby bottle of wine and pulled it toward him. Fortunately, it had already been opened, so he took a long swig.

  He had to resist the urge to loudly gag.

  This one’s corked, he thought. Tastes a little like wet paper. Trying not to visibly react, he slid the bottle back where he found it. Maybe that’s why it was just sitting there.

  “So it was a very productive day, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, spinning in his seat. Garret and Norman were still arranging some of the stacks, as Elna slowly made her way around the room, apparently making an inventory of everything they’d brought in. “I guess we start bright and early tomorrow setting up the aqueduct.”

  “I won’t be able to sleep,” Elna said. “I’m going to start working on the aqueduct now.”

  “Tonight?” Malin said.

  She looked at him and nodded, her eyebrows dancing. She looked like a child on Christmas morning. “I’ve got it all worked out in my head. We have everything we need. There’s a lot of work to be done, but I at least want to get started.”

  “I’m in,” Norman said. “It’s better than sitting around and worrying about my shop.”

  Elna started picking things out of various stacks and setting them on the bed of the bicycle cart just outside the door. As Norman and Garret moved to help her, Malin debated with himself. He really wanted to turn in, but he also didn’t want to be the only able-bodied person not helping. Especially with Garret right in the middle of everything.

  “Okay, okay,” Malin muttered, pushing away from the bar. “Count me in.”

  “Are you sure?” Elna asked. “It’s okay if you need to sleep. We can handle this.”

  “No, I’m good.” Malin rubbed his eyes. “There’s no reason to get up early tomorrow. It’s not like I’ve got a wedding to go to.” He meant to say it light-heartedly, but it stung. Actually, it hurt like hell. He was going to miss his wedding date, and he couldn’t even talk to Claire. Would he ever see or speak to her again?

  Yes, I’m getting over that bridge eventually, he thought. Somehow. Whatever it takes.

  He joined the others outside just as Selene and George came trudging in from the vineyard. Sniffy trailed along on the end of his leash.

  “Well, I tried interrogating Dominic,” George Pasqualee said, “but it’s like pulling teeth trying to get information out at all. All he wants to do is gripe and whine and play the victim.”

  “You’re leaving him unguarded?” Malin asked.

  “We can’t babysit him all night,” George said. “Don’t worry, he’s tied up real good. If I’d pulled the rop
es any tighter, we’d be amputating his limbs by morning.”

  “You’d better lock that shed up tight,” Selene said. Her voice was crackling like she’d been crying. “Don’t go near him either. He can’t be trusted. He’s mean and manipulative.”

  Garret was securing a big stack of equipment to the handcart with a bit of nylon rope, but he snarled, “I vote we toss that guy into the ocean and let the sharks sort it out.”

  Selene snorted loudly in a way that seemed to indicate she was okay with that.

  “No, we can’t actually execute the man,” George said. “This isn’t Lord of the Flies here. We’ll keep an eye on him until we can come up with a better solution.”

  Garret waved away the old man’s words and shook his head in disgust. Then he climbed onto one of the bicycle seats. “It’s your island, old man, but he’s a waste of resources.”

  Malin was torn. Garret wasn’t wrong. Dominic was a waste of resources, and a potential source of trouble, but then again, they couldn’t just kill a person. Yes, he’d threatened them with a gun, but he hadn’t pulled the trigger. He could have.

  We have to maintain some level of civility, he thought. Right?

  Something to think about when he wasn’t half-dead. He massaged his temples and tried to drive out thoughts of Dominic, dreading the long night ahead of them.

  16

  They’d found a few unopened MREs, all of them cheese and veggie omelet—the worst MRE ever created, according to Elna’s ex-boyfriend, Rod. Elna put them in the pantry with the rest of their food. As she opened the door, she was alarmed at how little remained. Had they really already eaten so much food?

  That big meal of freezer food from the first day was a mistake, she thought. We weren’t thinking clearly. We could’ve dried, salted, or cured all of that meat and made it last.

  Two shelves of canned vegetables, Norman’s salted meat project in a single plastic tub, a big bag of dry kidney beans, a few MREs, some crackers and potato chips. They’d added the bottled water that Dominic had somehow smuggled onto the island—though he had yet to explain how he’d done it.

  We’ll need to water the garden, she thought. Even more so when we expand it. That’ll use up a lot of water in the storage tank. She felt a little twist of unease. Their situation was worse than their guests realized.

  The aqueduct project was coming along, but they had a lot left to do. It was a long way from the guesthouse to the shore, and they had to elevate the storage tank high enough that gravity could carry the water across the island. No easy feat.

  We have to eat smaller meals, she thought. I need to speak to Pop about it. He’s too hospitable. These people aren’t just guests anymore.

  She heard someone entering the kitchen, so she backed out of the pantry and looked. Malin. He’d washed his face and hands and changed his clothes, but full baths were off-limits for now. His hair was still wild and unkempt, and she hoped it stayed that way. She was tempted to say something like, “Dump the hair gel,” but then again, it was none of her business.

  “Norman and Garret?” she asked.

  “Sound asleep,” Malin said. “You kept them up all night.”

  “It’s probably past noon by now,” Elna said, “and too warm. I don’t know how they can sleep. Oh well, we can get some work done, just the two of us. Maybe Selene will want to help.”

  “We need more than two people working on the aqueduct,” Malin said, “especially when we’re putting up the framework. Four pairs of hands is just about right.”

  Elna sighed. He was right, of course. It was tricky and difficult work. They had to prop up a lot of pieces when connecting the framework. But she was restless. They were running out of time. She couldn’t wait for a couple of sleepyheads to finally roll out of bed.

  “Okay, we’ll work on an additional food supply today,” she said. “It’s going to take too long for the vegetables to ripen in the garden, there won’t even be enough produce for all of us and expanding the garden is definitely going to take some time.”

  She began rooting through cabinets and drawers. As she pulled items out and set them on the counter, Malin watched her from the kitchen door, mouth hanging open in either confusion or amazement.

  “Trapping or fishing,” Elna said. “Which one would you like to try first?”

  When he didn’t answer right away, she spun a hand in his direction.

  “Uh, fishing, I guess,” he said.

  “Great,” she said. “That fishing equipment we found is in the east shed down by the causeway.”

  She headed for the door. He didn’t move aside right away, staring at her with some degree of uncertainty. Maybe he wasn’t up for it. Well, she wouldn’t be rude, but they didn’t have time to lie around.

  “We’re just testing the waters, so to speak,” she said. “I’m not real sure what the fishing is like around the islands. Pop has taken guests from time to time, but I don’t know if we can rely on it. You know, with all the sharks out there.”

  He finally stepped aside, and she moved down the hall.

  “Sharks?” he asked, his voice squeaking.

  “Oh, yeah, lots of them. We’re not that far north of the Red Triangle, you know. Come on. Let’s give it a try.”

  She heard him start to say something else, then he grunted instead—an anxious little sound—and hurried after her.

  She’d left the fishing gear beside the shed door during their initial search of the island. It was all still there, nearly arranged: two sturdy rods and reels, a couple of gaff hooks, extra fishing line, a box of lures, and a tackle box. Though the equipment didn’t get much use and spent most of its time piled in the shed, it appeared to be in decent shape. Malin picked up the nearest rod and reel, a black-and-white combo with the word Penn etched onto the drag knob.

  “I don’t know my deep-sea fishing equipment brands,” he said, “but this looks kind of expensive.”

  “All of this fishing gear was a gift from a wealthy guest a few years ago.” Elna tucked the gaffs under her arm and picked up the box of lures. “Come on. There’s a little fishing dock on the east side of the island.”

  Malin grabbed the rods and the tackle box and followed her out of the shed. She led him down the road to the fishing dock, which was in sight of the bridge. Though her body was worn out, having purpose had given her a kind of supernatural energy. She could see that Malin was lagging, but she couldn’t help herself. There was so much to do, so many problems to solve.

  When they came in sight of the fishing dock, a metal and concrete walkway that thrust out into the waters of the bay about thirty yards, they found a few sea lions perched on the end sunning themselves in the bright late-morning light. The sea lions rolled off into the water when Elna stepped onto the dock.

  “Don’t worry,” she said to Malin. “The sea lions won’t bother us. They might bother the fish, though.”

  They walked to the end of the dock and began preparing the gear. All of the lures were shiny and interesting, but Elna really had no idea which ones worked best in this environment.

  I wish I could just look it up on my cell phone, she thought, wistfully. I should have memorized more information and relied less on the internet.

  She picked a couple of shiny silver lures, as Malin checked the lines on the rods.

  “This would almost be pleasant under different circumstances,” he said. “A nice morning of fishing, looking out over the bay.”

  She was quite enjoying it, but she nodded at him. In truth, they really were fighting for their long-term survival on the island.

  As it turned out, Malin wasn’t much of a fisherman, so Elna had to show him how to cast his rod. Once he understood the basics, however, he did just fine. He grew quiet as they fished, and she wondered if he weren’t still setting his gaze on the distant mainland beyond the mist. A good two hours passed with neither of them saying a word.

  They also failed to catch a single thing. Elna did spot the sea lions from time to time poki
ng their heads up to see if the intruders had left their beloved dock. She also thought she spotted a shark’s fin in the distance at one point, but it was fleeting.

  Finally, she felt like she’d wasted too much time, and she reeled back in her line and began disconnecting the lure and weight.

  “Not much luck,” Malin said somberly.

  “None at all,” Elna said with a sigh, packing up the tackle box. “My guess is, the sharks and sea lions scare away the fish. We could try other fishing spots around the island, but, honestly, it just feels like a lot of effort for possibly no payoff.”

  “Why don’t we try catching the sharks?” Malin asked. “I’ve had shark fin soup before. It’s not bad.”

  “We’d have to take a boat out into deeper water,” she said. “I guess we could use the gaffs to hook them.”

  “Heck, use Dominic’s gun, it’s a Ruger .38,” Malin said. “That should do the trick.”

  “Not enough ammo to waste shots, unless Dominic stashed more bullets somewhere. Anyway, we need a reliable source of food, not just a single meal. Let’s try trapping instead. We know there are birds and small game.”

  She tucked the gaffs under her arm and picked up the tackle box. Malin took the rods. As Elna turned to walk away, he lingered. She glanced back and saw him gazing off wistfully across the bay, where the gray waves roiled, kicking up the screen that blocked any hint of the mainland.

  Yeah, yeah, Malin, I get it, she thought, feeling a moment of bitterness. Her response embarrassed her, and she shook her head, trying to drive it out of her mind.

  Just get to work, and don’t think about anything but survival, she scolded herself, setting off down the dock.

  The loggerhead shrikes were the most obvious target. They were as numerous as gnats on the island. Elna thought about the mechanics of the trap on the walk back to the guesthouse. They passed the partially constructed aqueduct along the way. The big blue barrel served as a storage tank for the crude hand pump. They’d raised it up onto a high framework rigged together with scrap lumber and metal. Roughly a hundred yards of aqueduct made from folded metal sheets led from a spigot near the bottom of the barrel, but they had a long way to go. Elna didn’t like leaving the project unfinished, but no one was quite as driven as her, it seemed.