Island Refuge EMP Box Set | Books 1-3

by Hamilton, Grace

  “Are you suggesting George should learn to live without life-saving medication?” Malin said.

  “I’m saying maybe we all have to adjust to a world without cutting-edge medical treatment,” Joe said. “He can treat his condition with diet. You heard Selene. Going to the mainland is a risk we shouldn’t have to take, especially when we’re sending two of our best and most competent people. We’re all in big trouble if you don’t come back.”

  “We’re coming back,” Malin said. “I’ll see to it.”

  “You can’t promise that, and the risk isn’t worth it.”

  Malin didn’t know what else to say. Yes, it was a risk, but it was a risk he was willing to take for Elna’s sake. There was no chance in hell he would back out. Still, Joe’s words gave him pause.

  “At the first sign of trouble, we’ll turn back,” Malin said. “We won’t trust anyone along the way. That’s the best I can give you.”

  “Pardon me for continuing to press the point,” Joe said, “but there’s a big picture that needs to be seen here. There was the old world, and there is the new world. We have to learn how to live in the new world. We can’t keep running back to the old world for old world solutions. Otherwise, we’ll be taking endless risks.”

  Rita finally threw in her two cents. “Joe and I had our own struggle in the beginning, but we learned to adjust to the new world. This is life now.”

  “Yes, exactly,” Joe said. “Eventually, all the clinics and pharmacies will be empty. When will we stop running off to the mainland to save us?”

  “After this trip,” Malin said.

  Joe scowled darkly and returned to his garlic, as Malin began lugging the food and water jugs into the tasting room. After a couple of trips, Norman joined him and helped.

  “Y’all going to be okay out there?” Norman asked.

  “Don’t start in on me, Norman. I already got an earful from Joe. We’ll be perfectly fine. Just take care of things here while we’re gone. I’m more worried about the island.”

  They stacked the food and water at the end of the bar, near where Raymond was scribbling away.

  “Here you go, my friend,” Raymond said. He handed the scrap of paper to Malin. “I put down everything we might possibly need. Maybe it’s too much, so if we can’t get all of it, that’s fine.”

  In bad handwriting, he’d scribbled across the top, “Sailing Gear Packing List.” For a man in a hurry, he’d been thorough, breaking the list into subheadings: clothing, safety gear, toiletries, supplies.

  “You don’t have any of this on board already?” Malin asked.

  “Not much,” Raymond replied. “The boat wasn’t well stocked when we found it, and we left in a hurry. We had a bit of food and water, but we ran out the day before we ran aground.”

  “Sunglasses, sweaters, gloves, hats,” Malin said, reading items at random. “Towels, toothbrushes, deodorant, sleeping bags, ear plugs, utility knives, compass, flashlights, candles, first aid kit, boat shoes…I don’t know how much of this we have.”

  “Please get as much as you can, and that will have to do,” Raymond said, dusting off his hands, as if he’d finished some grueling work. “Then we can sail away fast.”

  “Right.” Malin folded the paper and tucked it in his shirt pocket, feeling a sinking sensation. Maybe this was going to be a much bigger ordeal than he anticipated. He looked at Norman. Dude, if you try to talk me out of this right now, I might just agree, he thought, but Norman only gave him an encouraging nod. “Okay, first, let’s deal with water. We’ll need to grab an empty barrel from the winery.”

  Malin carefully wrapped the pair of sunglasses in a handkerchief and set them on top of the rolled sleeping bags in a corner of the cardboard box. Norman came up beside him and placed a small toiletry bag in another corner. Selene followed a moment later with a carefully packed plastic box full of herbal medicines that she’d put together.

  “A salve for cuts and burns,” she said, handing Malin the box. “Something for indigestion or seasickness. A headache medicine. I’ve carefully marked it all, so just read the labels.”

  “Thanks.” He found a good spot for the plastic box and surrounded it with some rolled towels for padding.

  She seemed sad, standing with her hands clasped in front of her, loose strands of hair hanging in her face. Malin turned to her.

  “Hey, Selene,” he said, trying to adopt a confident tone of voice. “Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll be gone a week at most, okay?”

  She nodded, but she wouldn’t look at him. “I’m sure we’ll be okay. It’s just going to be a long week. I wish there were still phones, you know? So we could keep in touch. It’s a shame the old CB batteries are dead.”

  As they scoured the guesthouse and winery for the rest of the items on the checklist, Raymond paced back and forth down the hall, checking on his son periodically. He was muttering under his breath, and he kept peering out the windows. Finally, as Malin made his seventh or eighth trip to the tasting room, carrying another armful of supplies, Raymond followed him and peered out the back door.

  “You think we’re almost ready?” he said. “It’s probably close to high tide. Don’t you agree?”

  “You made the checklist, buddy,” Malin said. “Anyway, Elna’s not back yet, which means she’s still stitching up the mainsail.”

  “Okay, okay,” Raymond muttered. “A little longer, I guess. Just a little longer.”

  “How is Daniel doing?” Malin asked.

  Raymond stuck his head outside, looked left and right, then stepped back inside. “He’s resting. He keeps saying he’s okay, but his color isn’t good. The sooner we set sail, the better.”

  “But if we’re not fully prepared, we could run into trouble,” Malin said.

  Raymond clasped his hands, wringed them violently for a few seconds, then nodded. “Yes, señor, you’re right. You’re right. I have to calm down. I’ll go sit with Daniel.” He turned and walked back to the hallway.

  From the sound of it, however, he just continued to pace back and forth through the guesthouse. Malin sat down at the bar and checked off the items they’d packed, as Norman watched over his shoulder. They were sitting there when Elna returned. She flung the door open, tossed something heavy into the corner, and heaved a world-weary sigh. Malin turned in his seat, and saw that she was drenched in sweat, her black hair hanging limp.

  “I found these,” she said, gesturing to what looked like a big pile of cloth on the floor. “Waterproof gear in the cave behind the barracks. No telling how old it is. It’s kind of brittle, and smells like death, but we might need it.”

  Norman walked over and began pulling apart the stack, revealing a number of large hooded raincoats. They were cracked and tattered, covered in dust and unidentifiable stains. Norman brushed them off one by one.

  “How’s the boat?” Malin asked.

  “Repairing the sail was a gigantic pain in the butt,” Elna replied, dropping onto a barstool beside him. He smelled the sweat and stress of hard work radiating off of her. “We can’t afford to have it rip the first time a strong wind rises, so I was meticulous. It’s good now. I pumped water out of the cabin. That was fun. But, anyway, the Betty Lynn should be seaworthy now.”

  Despite the sweat that soaked through her denim shirt, Malin patted her gently on the back. “You’ve really gone above and beyond for these people, Elna.”

  “I’m doing it for Pop, too,” she reminded him.

  “But even if your father didn’t need help, you still would have repaired the sail. You help people. That’s what you do.”

  Elna grunted and stared at the bar top. “I’m a little more selfish than you give me credit for. Yes, I would have helped them anyway. Partly, so they would leave the island and not leech off our limited supplies. I’m not the saint you think I am.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Elna,” he said.

  He heard footsteps racing down the hall. Raymond came tearing into the tasting room and caugh
t himself against the edge of the bar, out of breath.

  “You’re back,” he cried. “You’re finally back. Is the boat ready? Is it time?”

  Elna glanced at Malin, and she saw the complete and utter exhaustion that he was trying to keep in check. She blinked rapidly a few times, patted her cheeks, and leaned past Malin.

  “Mr. Cabello, the mainsail is fixed,” she said. “Your boat is seaworthy, but—”

  “Yes, good, very good,” he shouted, pumping a fist in the air. “I am so very grateful, señora. We can set sail then?”

  “No,” she replied, then let the word sink in. Finally, she rose from the stool and went to the big supply box in the corner, where Norman was carefully loading the rain gear. “No, we can’t set sail today. We’ll leave at first light.”

  “Tomorrow…?” Raymond said with a gasp.

  “I have to repair the aqueduct,” she explained. “I’m not leaving the island until I know the people here will be taken care of. There’s still a hell of a lot of work left.”

  “Oh, Elna,” Norman said. “We can probably figure out how to repair the aqueduct by ourselves.”

  She heaved another sighed. “No, Norman. You can help, but I have to oversee the project. If Garret were still here…maybe…but I have to ensure the framework is stable. We need to brace it a little better so it can weather the next storm, because there will be a next storm. Besides, if we leave now, it will be dark before we make it to shore and we won’t know where to land. If will be safer if we leave at first light tomorrow.”

  She gave Norman a sad little smile then headed for the hallway, brushing past Raymond as she entered the hall.

  Rain started to fall again as they loaded up their supplies. Malin was standing on the deck, passing boxes to Norman in the cabin when he felt the first drops against the back of his neck. He looked up and saw gray clouds sliding across the evening sky, but then the rain ran into his eyes.

  “Oh, that’s nice,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

  Elna stepped over the gunwale with a small plastic tub containing tools. Malin took it out of her arms and passed it to Norman.

  “Careful with that one,” Malin told him. “Make sure it’s sealed and out of the water.”

  “You got it,” Norman replied, before heading through the hatch.

  “That’s it,” Elna said. “That’s everything. Not just Raymond’s checklist, but all of the food and water—everything we’ll need for a week at sea.”

  He turned and looked at her. She had never looked more ragged or run down, but she managed a fleeting smile. In a fit of boldness, Malin went to her and hugged her, even as the rain picked up and showered them.

  “We’re going to be okay,” he said.

  “I’m glad you believe it,” she replied, speaking softly in his ear in a way that tickled. “It helps me worry a little bit less. I just can’t quiet my mind.”

  After Norman sealed the hatch, they checked to make sure the anchor was secure. Fortunately, the rain was far gentler this time than the storm that had first driven the boat ashore. Norman, Malin, Raymond, and Elna trudged back up the hill to the guesthouse just as the sun set to find the others gathered around the dining table.

  For once, Malin didn’t smell cooked shrimp, and when he approached the table, he saw a big bowl of steamed vegetables, another of garlic potatoes, and a third that contained some kind of meaty stew. A veritable feast that felt like a last supper. Selene had also brewed another one of her strange ciders using local fruit.

  Malin sat down next to Elna, soaking wet and aching, and dabbed his face with a napkin. George sat at the head of the table, and the old man didn’t look much better than he had that morning. Leaning heavily against the edge of the table, he filled his plate to overflowing with potatoes and stew. Daniel, on the other hand, seemed to be in good spirits, laughing and sharing stories with his father as he ate. His color wasn’t good—Raymond was right about that. He had gone a couple shades paler than usual, but he was restless in his seat as he ate.

  “Now we have a full crew, huh, Dad?” he said. “We’ll do a lot better, won’t we? I don’t really want to get on the water again.”

  “Yes, sailing will be a lot easier with two extra hands on deck,” Raymond said. He sounded somber, as if something were bothering him. “Especially these two.” He gestured at Elna and Malin. “They can do just about anything.”

  Malin winced. “Raymond there, friend, don’t expect too much out of us.” He pointed at Elna. “She’s the brains of this operation. I’m mostly just a peon. My brute strength comes in handy from time to time, but that’s about it.”

  Elna waved off his comment in a way that seemed only half-joking.

  “I don’t want to go,” Daniel said again, resting his chin on his hand. “It’s awful being out there on the water. Scary.”

  “Actually…” Raymond grimaced as he looked around the table. He seemed to be working himself up to say something, his mouth working up and down soundlessly. Finally, he rested a hand on his son’s shoulder and said, “I’ve been thinking about this, son, and…I know you won’t want to hear it, but I think maybe you should stay here on the island.”

  Daniel lurched up in his seat. “Stay here? All by myself?”

  “It’s only for a week,” Raymond said, “and you won’t be by yourself. These nice people will be here. Don’t you like it better than being on the ocean? You can sleep and rest, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Daniel looked like he was about to say something, but his face collapsed and he put his chin on his hand again. “Whatever. It’s bad either way, Dad.”

  “I’ll be okay,” Raymond said. “You’ll hardly know I’m gone.”

  He looked around the table, as if seeking approval.

  “It’s fine with me if he stays here,” Selene said finally. “We’ll look after him. Does he need anything?”

  “No, just rest,” Raymond. “Make sure he eats a little. He doesn’t always have an appetite.”

  Selene and the Dulleses were somber throughout dinner. The Dulleses said almost nothing, serving food and eating in silence, speaking only to ask if people wanted second helpings. As for Selene, she ate very little, mostly holding Sniffy in her lap and feeding the little dog scraps.

  “Are we all loaded up?” George asked, toward the end of dinner.

  “Yeah, we’re ready,” Elna replied.

  He nodded, then cleared his throat, and rose. “I have one more thing I want you take with you.”

  As he shuffled across the dining room, headed for the kitchen, Elna started to go with him. He motioned for her to stay seated.

  “I’ve got it,” he said. “I’m not an invalid, Elna. Hang on.”

  He left the room. Malin heard him moving through the kitchen, heard the click of the door latch that led to the family quarters at the back of the guesthouse. A moment later, he returned, lugging a wooden crate with twelve compartments. He set it on the table. Malin saw a dozen corks and capsules poking out of the ends of the compartments, the capsules covered in gold-colored wrapping. Indeed, as Elna picked one up, she revealed the gold label of one of Pasqualee Vineyard’s premium vintages.

  “Pop, where have you been hiding these?” she asked.

  “They were in a cabinet in my bedroom,” he replied, making his way back to his seat. “Rod Smith didn’t know about them. I was saving them for a special occasion, but this might be it. You can use them as currency if you get in a desperate situation. If Rod is right, they’re worth more than gold.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Elna muttered, closing the box. “Let’s hope we just get there, grab the medicine, and head immediately home.”

  George grunted thoughtfully as he took his seat. “Hope is good. Hope with preparedness is better.”

  8

  Elna stepped outside to one of the brightest and most beautiful mornings she’d ever experienced on the island. It was as if the weather had decided to give them a break by
sweeping all of the clouds out of the sky. The winds weren’t bad either, just a gentle breeze rolling in off the water. She stood there in the vineyard, the first to be up and about, and soaked it in.

  Will I ever see this place again? As soon as the thought passed through her mind, she chastised herself for her pointless pessimism. Why assume the worst? Just be prepared for problems and deal with them like you’ve dealt with every other damn thing.

  She heard the soft creak of the back door. Gazing over her shoulder, she saw her father leaning on the doorframe. Though he seemed chipper and had a pleasant expression on his face, she noted that he was wearing the same clothes as the night before. They were rumpled, as if he’d slept in them, and his beard was unkempt.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “Can’t we just treat my condition through diet, like Selene said? I’ve been following her instructions, and it seems to be helping.”

  “No, it’s not helping,” she replied. “You’re faking it. I know you, Pop. You need your medication.”

  And, indeed, when he took a step toward her, his knee wobbled. She reached out and grabbed his arm.

  “If anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself,” he said.

  “Same here,” she replied. “This is just what we have to do, so let’s accept it and get it done.”

  She hadn’t let the emotions sink in yet. Keeping her mind on the problems that lay before them had worked thus far. Even now, she felt the first glimmer of sadness, and she staved it off.

  Get underway, she told herself. Stay focused. Feel later.

  Raymond and Daniel appeared next. The kid looked worse this morning. Whatever burst of energy he’d experienced during dinner the night before had utterly left him. He was pale and shaking, leaning on his father as they passed through the door. Raymond was wearing his sailor’s coat and hat, the hood pulled up over the hat, and he carried a small sack with a few final items they’d gathered that morning. Elna wanted to bring a little more food just in case, and Selene had offered some sun-dried berries.