Island Refuge EMP Box Set | Books 1-3

by Hamilton, Grace

  19

  The group gathered again that night around the dining table, shaken by the day’s events.

  “How’s the water tank?” Pop asked.

  “Used most of a roll of duct tape,” Elna said, pacing along the back wall. “It’ll hold for a while, but we’ll need a more permanent solution. The bullet didn’t just make a neat hole. It actually cracked the shell and tore the lining and passed out the other side. We lost a lot of the fresh water, so desalination will be more important than ever.”

  Garret was seated at the head of the table, endlessly drumming the fingers of his right hand. His knuckles were a mess of scabs. Malin sat at the other end of the table, sipping a bottle of water. Norman was currently unloading the backpack he had earlier prepared for Dominic as Pop hugged the CB radio close—he’d apparently grown quite fond of it. The Dulleses were there, sitting quietly as usual—as useless as debris.

  “Large-scale desalination doesn’t seem all that possible,” Garret said. “Pipe dream. We couldn’t get it right with about three cups of water.”

  “We have to,” Elna said. “We’ll make it possible. When an experiment doesn’t work out the way you hoped, you change the parameters and try again.”

  Garret rolled a hand in the air, as if to say, Whatever.

  “No,” Pop said. “What we have to do is get the bridges down. Folks, there’s a large-scale recovery effort taking place on the mainland. They know about us now. I’ve spoken to them, and they want us to try to get the drawbridges down. They’ll meet us on the causeway. Think about it! Food, water, and they’ll take Dominic off our hands.”

  “We already tried it,” Malin said. “We don’t have a power source to move the bridges.”

  “Don’t we?” Pop said. He tapped the side of his head. “Let’s put our heads together. You guys came up with that aqueduct system. Surely, we can figure out a way to power the bridges. It’s a matter of survival.”

  Elna wracked her brain. Maybe they’d given up too quickly on the bridges, but, then again, seeing the mainland burning hadn’t exactly motivated her. She began working through all the possible sources of electricity.

  Garret, of all people, beat her to the punch. “Old Mr. Pasqualee said there are some batteries that work, didn’t he? Everything didn’t get fried, people. Could those batteries be enough?”

  “Probably not,” Elna said.

  But his suggestion stirred up a memory. There was a large battery on the island, wasn’t there? She’d seen it with her own eyes. “Car battery in the old Army jeep,” she said, thinking out loud. “Couldn’t we recharge it? I mean, those old car batteries generate power from a chemical reaction between lead and acid, right? So if we could get the chemical reaction going again somehow, maybe…” She shrugged.

  “Oh, so all we need is a big old bottle of acid,” Garret said sourly.

  “We’ve got it,” Pop said. “Sulfuric acid. We use it in wine-making to prevent oxidation. There’s a big jug of it in the other building.”

  Elna turned and looked at her father. “Sulfuric acid and seawater,” she said. “That might do it, assuming the guts of the battery are intact.”

  Malin clapped, a big grin on his face. He rose and said, “Great job, Elna. You may have just found a way off this damned island. Let’s get it done, folks. What are we waiting for? We can march Dominic with us and hand him over to the mainlanders. Come on!” He beckoned everyone as he moved toward the door.

  His enthusiasm about leaving the island caused Elna a moment of embarrassment.

  Are we really that bad? she thought. Then she realized how silly her reaction was. Why are you letting it hurt your feelings? Of course, he wants to leave. He has a fiancée waiting for him.

  “Do we have to bring Dominic?” Selene asked. She been sitting quietly through the entire conversation, clearly still recovering from the last encounter. Sniffy was curled up in her lap.

  “Yeah, but this is where we’ll part ways with him,” Pop said. “They’ve already agreed to take him off our hands. Trust me, he’ll wish he was still locked in our freezer when they get ahold of him.”

  To this, Selene just sighed.

  “Okay, let’s get it done,” Elna said, hoping her voice didn’t betray her feelings.

  Through all of this, Joe and Rita Dulles had been sitting quietly, saying nothing—par for the course throughout this entire ordeal. They had done practically nothing to contribute to the needs of the islanders, and they’d made little effort to be friendly. Now, Joe cleared his throat loudly, grabbed his wife’s hand, and spoke.

  “We shall not be going with you,” he said. “I’m afraid it’s just out of the question.”

  “We may be getting off this island,” Pop said. “They have food and water over there. I’m not comfortable leaving you two behind.”

  “How you feel about it is quite irrelevant,” Joe said. “My wife has arthritis in her back. It’s ten miles across the causeway. We simply can’t walk that distance.”

  “We’ll put the two of you on the bikes,” Elna said. “You can ride.”

  “Riding bicycles ten miles isn’t much better than walking,” Joe said. “Look, I’m not interested in debating the matter. We’re not going, and that’s final.”

  “What about food and water?” Pop asked. “We don’t know how long it will be before we get back…if we come back.”

  Rita spoke then, her voice quavering. “We’ll take our chances.”

  A silence fell over the room. What else could be said? The Dulleses had been close to useless thus far. If Rita had arthritis, that at least provided a reasonable excuse, but Elna saw no reason to argue with them.

  “Well, that’s that,” she said, finally. “They want to stay. Fine. I guess it’s time for the rest of us to go.”

  As she rose, she glanced at Garret and saw a hateful look pass over his face. For a moment—less than a second, really—he directed an intense scowl at Malin, his upper lip drawing back to reveal his top row of teeth. But he quickly wiped it away, went blank, and pushed back from the table.

  What was that about?

  The bicycle cart was loaded down with water and MREs—the very food Norman had been prepared to give Dominic—but the key items sat in the cardboard box in the center. They’d actually found two old military batteries, one under the hood and another, possibly a spare, under the back seat of the jeep; they sat now beside a big plastic jug of sulfuric acid that Pop had taken from a storage room in the winery and two gallon-sized jugs of seawater.

  “No guarantees it’ll generate enough power to lower the drawbridge,” Garret said, “but the idea was solid.” He nodded at Elna.

  “The backup batteries for the drawbridge motors are pretty huge,” she said. “I don’t know if the car batteries will generate enough power. I guess it’s worth a try. Let’s just hope the wires from the battery to the drawbridge motor didn’t get burned out by the EMP. I don’t want anyone to get their hopes up. This is just a possibility, nothing more.”

  Malin had a little bounce in his step as they made their way down the winding road toward the eastern shore. She tried not to let his enthusiasm annoy her, and she almost succeeded. To take her mind off what she considered a childish display, she studied the items they’d brought with them. Would it be enough to get the batteries working and raise the drawbridge? The prospect was interesting, at the very least.

  She leaned over the cardboard box to see which tools they’d brought with them, but as she did, she noticed a second box tucked behind the first. It was smaller, but the lid had been closed and taped for some reason.

  “What’s in this other box?” she asked, reaching forward and patting the lid. “I didn’t see this before. Who put it there?”

  Garret and Malin were walking the bikes, and both of them looked back. But it was her father who answered.

  “I brought that, Principessa. It’s just a little bit extra to drink. You never know when we might want it.”

  Wine. Could
Pop not be away from the family product for more than a few minutes? Something about it didn’t add up, but she decided not to pursue it. He had his reasons, and she trusted him enough not to probe in front of others.

  Through all of this, Dominic trudged sullenly along. They’d tied his hands behind his back, then run another rope to the frame of the bike. Garret had also insisted on tying a towel around his mouth, cinching it tightly enough that it became a gag.

  The sooner we hand him off to someone else, the better, Elna thought.

  By the time they reached the causeway, the evening gloom stretched out across the bay, the road vanishing into the distant dark. Norman cracked open a bottle of water, took a sip, and tried to hand it to Pop, but Elna’s father waved it off.

  “We got a long walk ahead of us,” Pop said with a long sigh. He had the CB radio tucked under his arm. For some reason, Pop just didn’t want to let it go. However, in his other hand, he held a flashlight, and he pressed the button to turn it on with his chin. “Two miles to the first drawbridge. Let’s go.”

  Pop led the way, stepping onto the causeway. They began the long march, Elna bringing up the rear, one of the Rugers held lightly in her right hand. The other was in Malin’s pocket. It was slow going, especially as they had to walk the bikes, which were occasionally dragged by a lingering Dominic. Elna gazed at the distant shore beyond the bay, but she no longer saw any indication of fires burning there.

  Maybe Rod Smith and his recovery team put them all out, she thought, and shuddered at the memory of her old boyfriend. By the end of their relationship, she had been so sick of his emotional distance and obstinance that dumping him had been like finally working a thorn out from under her big toenail. And now he’s saving the world.

  Evening had fully arrived by the time they reached the first drawbridge. Garret and Malin carried the supplies into the service building. Elna wanted to help. This was right up her alley, but she didn’t quite trust her father, Selene, or Norman with the gun. Someone had to keep an eye on Dominic, and she felt like she was less likely to be surprised by him. Still, they’d discussed the battery procedure at length.

  Garret insisted he knew how to get the battery working—reconditioning, he called it—by submerging the lead plates in water and acid. The process should work fairly quickly, Elna knew, assuming the guts of the battery were still good. Still, it made her anxious not helping, and she paced behind the bike. Dominic finally turned and looked at her. He peered at her over the towel-gag with his dark animal eyes.

  “Don’t worry,” she told him. “You’re going to make a bunch of new friends soon enough.”

  He grunted at this and looked away.

  After a few minutes, Malin walked out of the service building, lugging two enormous, corroded drawbridge batteries. He set them down a few feet away and returned. As he did, he turned and gave Elna an OK sign.

  “We got this, Elna,” he said. “Just you wait and see. Your smarts finally rubbed off on me. Now, we just have to wire up the car batteries, and we’ll see if the control panel works.”

  She tried to give him an encouraging smile in return as he went back inside the building. She resumed pacing, idly swinging the gun back and forth as she went. Suddenly, she heard—and felt—a low hum from somewhere beneath her. This was followed by a loud, rusty creak, as from old gears. And then the drawbridge began to move, slowly and achingly descending as reluctant metal screamed.

  “They did it,” Pop cheered, raising his hands over his head. “Can you believe it? They got it working!”

  The groaning and creaking only got louder as the drawbridge lowered. The vibration coming up through the ground intensified, rattling Elna’s teeth, but then the bridge was down. The motor died with a last squeal, and the vibration faded.

  Garret came running out of the service building, took a look at the drawbridge, and then slammed his fist into his open palm. Pop started to approach, as if to give him a hug, but Garret waved him off.

  “Don’t celebrate yet, Pasqualee,” he said. “The batteries are toast. The seal was weak to begin with, and they broke. The lead plates were in poor condition. They’re done.”

  “But you did it,” he said.

  “We got one bridge down. There’s two more!”

  “Rod will find a way,” Pop said, hoisting the CB radio up. “Trust me. He said he’s going to get to us somehow, no matter what.”

  Well, that sounds like Rod, Elna thought, and shuddered.

  “So…what, we keep walking?” Garret asked.

  “Yes, I’ll let him know we’re on the way,” Pop said, and headed off across the drawbridge, even as he flicked on the CB and began to twist the dial.

  If he asks to speak to me, I’m going to pretend to pass out, Elna thought.

  20

  Malin had never felt such a potent mix of hope and disappointment at the same time. It was making his stomach churn, and he grabbed his belly with his free hand. How could they come so close to getting off the island only to fail now?

  I have to get to Claire, he thought. I just have to. We’ll prove to Garret how wrong he was.

  “Maybe the second drawbridge will work,” Elna said. “We couldn’t get the manual controls working on the first one. They were rusted shut. But with the second one, you never know…”

  The causeway stretched out seemingly into oblivion in front of them. Malin couldn’t see the second bridge yet. It was somewhere in the distance of the deepening evening gloom. Still, what if she was right? What if they could be on their way back to the mainland in a matter of hours? Malin crossed his arms tightly. He felt all shaky now, anxious. What if he found a way to get to Claire that very night?

  “So what does it take to manually lower the drawbridges?” Garret asked.

  “They appear to have a manual winch system,” Elna said. “Malin and I couldn’t move the lever to release the catch.”

  “Well, I’m here now,” Garret said. “With the three of us, we’ll make the damn thing move. Just you wait and see.”

  “Let me help,” said a scratchy voice.

  He turned back and saw Dominic. Somehow, their prisoner had worked the towel out of his mouth. It now hung around his neck like a poor man’s ascot. Malin was holding the handlebars of one the bikes, but he had the Ruger tucked in the pocket of his cargo shorts. When the voice spoke behind him, he’d reached for the gun, his fingers touching the cold metal grip.

  “Let me help,” Dominic said again. “I want off the island as much as you guys do. If Selene’s not there, I have no reason to be there. I’m not going to do anything now. Let me help!”

  “We’re okay,” Malin said. “You just rest, buddy. We’ll let the rescue team figure out what to do with you.”

  Elna was bringing up the rear of their little caravan, and Malin saw her raise the second pistol, pointing it at Dominic’s back.

  “I just wanted my stuff back,” Dominic added. “I never came after any of you, but you stole from me. Maybe I overreacted, okay? But surely you can understand why I did it.”

  “Take it up with the mainlanders,” Malin said. “You’ll meet them soon.”

  The slog to the second drawbridge seemed a lot longer, though Malin knew the bridges were equidistant from each other. As they traveled, evening turned into full-on night, until they were following the flashlight beam through almost complete darkness. Finally, the second drawbridge appeared in the beam, rising like some vast monolith. Like the first one, it had a small concrete building set to one side.

  “Let’s get this done,” Garret said, heading inside.

  Malin followed him, while Pop stood in the doorway, shining the bright LED flashlight at the controls. As before, there was a control panel against one wall with black wires leading down to a large box near the floor. Nearby, a set of levers rose through holes in the floor. Just for the heck of it, Malin opened the control panel and flipped the large switch he found inside. It did nothing.

  “Well, worth a try,” he said with
a shrug, turning to Garret.

  “We have to strong-arm it,” Garret said, pointing at the levers. “Which one releases the manual winch?”

  A six-inch gap along the edge of the wall gave them a view of the bridge motor beneath the floor. Malin leaned over the gap and studied the machinery beneath them.

  “Which lever?” Garret asked again, sharply. “Come on, Malin. Let’s get this done!”

  “Big one in the middle, I think,” Malin said. “Elna should be in here. She knows more about how this works than we do.”

  “She’s keeping an eye on our buddy.” Garret grabbed the center level, wrapping both arms around it. “Push or pull?”

  Malin got down lower and peered through the gap. Now, he could see a winch perched above the motor. It had a huge, ancient chain wound around it that threaded down through a hole in the motor’s cowling. The center lever appeared to hold a metal bar against a set of teeth on one end of the winch, while the smaller lever beside it was attached to a set of hinged metal arms that were, in turn, attached to the side of the winch.

  “Elna could figure this out a lot easier than me,” he said. “I think the center lever unlocks the winch, and the other lever allows it to be hand-cranked, which hopefully lowers the bridge. One way to find out.”

  “Push or pull?”

  “Pull,” Malin said, positioning himself across from Garret. “Go for it.”

  Garret leaned back, his arm muscles rippling as he put his full strength into pulling the lever. Malin grabbed the lever and leaned against it, bracing his foot against the nearby wall to give himself leverage. Something beneath them creaked loudly, and the lever moved approximately half an inch, then stopped. After that, it wouldn’t budge no matter how much the two men tried.

  “Damn,” Garret said, finally, stumbling backward.

  “Well, there goes that idea,” Malin said with a sigh, collapsing to his knees on the floor.