Island Refuge EMP Box Set | Books 1-3

by Hamilton, Grace

  “Ma’am, I’m Captain Foster,” he said, grabbing the brim of his cap as he sat down. “Sorry it took so long. There’s a bigger mess down there than we anticipated.”

  Prig made eye contact with her and gave her a big smile. Was it supposed to convey good news, or was he just reminiscing about all of the hellish things they’d gone through together? Elna didn’t know, but she couldn’t quite return the smile in kind.

  “Sorry, Captain, you caught me napping,” Elna said, brushing her hair back over her shoulders. “How can I help you?”

  “I don’t blame you for catching a few Z’s while you can,” the captain replied. “I understand the staff sergeant here drew up a contract with you about ownership of the island.” He tapped his gloved hand on the manila folder. “Now, to be clear, he didn’t really have the authority to do that. However, I’ve been authorized to inform you that we’re going to honor the terms of the agreement anyway. You and your people can remain on the island as long as you own the vineyard. This will continue to be your home. We’re not pushing you out, though we do have right of refusal if you ever decide to sell.”

  Elna felt such elation she couldn’t respond at first. She took a moment to gather herself, then said, “That’s great news. I don’t see us ever selling this place.”

  “Very good. We will limit most of our activity to the area around the bunker on the southwest corner of the island,” the captain continued, “but that doesn’t mean we won’t bump into each other. We have a lot of work to do around the island to secure this place. That means we’ll have to coexist. I hope that’s okay with you.”

  “That’s perfectly fine,” Elna replied, “and better than the alternative.”

  “Great. The war isn’t over, and the nation is recovering but still in a precarious position.” He pushed the folder toward her. “All the paperwork you need to prove ownership of the vineyard is in here. You can take a look when you get chance.”

  She flipped open the folder and saw a thick stack of documents. So much small print. The crude contract she’d drawn up with Prig before their mission to the militia camp was tucked into the back.

  “By the way, Captain, what will become of the militia camp across the bay?” she said.

  “The entire camp has already been cleared out,” the captain replied. “Civilians were evacuated to a shelter. We’ll find new homes for all of them. The guards have been arrested, and they’ll each be processed and dealt with. We’ve been informed that the camp leader was killed, so there’s no danger of someone trying to re-form the militia. It’s done.”

  Elna heaved a huge sigh of relief that went through her whole body. “Thanks, Captain. You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

  He rose from the table and gave her a strange little bow. “No, thank you, ma’am. For everything. I know you were just trying to protect your people, but you also did your country a huge service by helping us. We’ll never forget it.”

  And with that, he walked away. Prig gave her a big smile and a salute before following.

  “See you around, soldier,” he said.

  They shared a meal together on the factory floor of the winery, the big vats serving as a backdrop. A few folding tables had been brought together, and they’d combined the food from a number of MREs to create a crude, but still delicious, buffet. Raymond, Daniel, Chloe, and Miriam were all sitting together, chatting and occasionally laughing, as Chloe fed scraps to Sniffy.

  Elna was making rounds refilling water cups, and she stopped in front of Miriam. She had no ill feelings toward the woman about revealing the location of the bunker. She’d done what was necessary to protect her child, and it had ended with the death of the mercenaries anyway.

  As Elna refilled Miriam’s cup, she asked, “How are you guys doing?”

  “We’re fine,” Raymond replied. “You know, Elna, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

  “Oh?” she replied.

  Raymond and Miriam traded a look. “Well…it’s just that…Danny is feeling so much better, and we’ve all been getting to know each other.” He pointed at himself, at Miriam and Chloe. “It turns out, Miriam has family in Redding, and the city is safe now, according to the Marines. They’ve offered to accompany us there if we want to travel there, so we…well, we’ve decided to move on. Oh, not today, of course. Maybe in a few days, when we’re all rested up and packed.”

  Elna felt a twinge of sadness, but she offered Raymond a smile. It was for the best, wasn’t it? “I think that sounds like a great idea, Raymond. I’m sure you’ll all be very happy together.”

  “I think so,” Raymond replied. “Danny and Chloe are best friends now, and Miriam and I have been getting to know each other. It seems a little bit like destiny.”

  Elna had to walk away. She wasn’t ready for goodbyes, even though she’d expected them. She approached Selene and Dr. Ruzka next, refilling their cups.

  “Thanks, Elna,” Selene said. “You know, I’ve been talking with the doctor here, and…”

  Another goodbye. Elna saw it coming and braced herself. “You’re leaving the island, too,” she said. “Is that what you’re about to tell me?”

  “Well, I think we’re headed to Manchester,” Selene said. “We’ve practically become sisters, you know? She’s like family to me, and she’s going to find me a position at the clinic there. The sailboat’s no longer seaworthy, of course. The Betty Lynn is half-sunk beside the fishing dock, but a Navy ship has offered transportation when they head south in a few days.”

  “We work well together,” Dr. Ruzka said. “We might incorporate some of Selene’s natural remedies into our treatment at the clinic.”

  “That’s sound great,” Elna replied. “What about Sniffy?”

  “Oh.” A brief wistful look came over Selene’s face. “I’m happy for him. He was with me through so much. I’ll be grateful to that little guy forever, but I think he’s found the right family now. I just want him to be happy.”

  “Sniffy sure loves Chloe,” Elna said. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re making the right decision, Selene. We’ll miss you. Write us sometime.”

  “If there’s a postal service, I’ll send a card once I’ve settled in at the clinic,” Selene replied.

  “That would be nice.”

  And on some level, some deeper level, this all felt right to Elna. People had to move on with their lives. Still, she felt an ache as she walked away. She walked back across the room, setting the pitcher on the table in passing, and sat down beside Malin. He put his arms around her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “I heard a whole lot of goodbyes just now.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Better than ever, actually. I’ll miss our people when they leave, of course, but it’s good for them. They’re building new lives in a healing country, and isn’t that what we want?”

  “It is,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.

  “You’re not going anywhere, I hope,” she said.

  “Never,” he said. And when she turned toward him, he kissed her on the lips. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

  “How about…one whole, entire lifetime,” she said.

  “You got it, Elna Pasqualee. One whole, entire lifetime.”

  Epilogue

  Elna, Malin, and George stood together beside the first trellis, gazing out across the vineyard. The grapes were coming in, and they looked healthy. It seemed like it was going to be a good harvest this season, and Malin was already daydreaming about the first taste of new wine. For him, that seemed like it would be the best and clearest sign that life was getting back to some semblance of normal.

  “We’re going to rebuild it all, of course,” George said. The old man seemed a bit healthier now that all the turmoil and trauma was past him. Still, he was leaning on a cane as he gazed out at the trellises and the growing vines. Trimming his beard had made the biggest difference in his appearance. He looked ten years younger—though Malin kind of missed th
e old Santa Claus look. “The new vineyard will be new, fully modern, and more secure. What do you think, Elna?”

  “We’re on the same page, Pop,” she said, patting him on the back. “I’ve already been working on some plans. With the bridges repaired, we have access to the mainland again, and no militia to worry about, so we can obtain supplies. We need bigger, stronger trellises for the vines, and we should probably replace the old water tank. Anyway, I guess all of the turmoil was good for the grapes. They’re coming in really well. We’ll have a late harvest, of course, but we’ll get to spend the winter making wine. We should be tasting it by Christmas.”

  “That’s all I really wanted,” Pop replied. “It’ll be the best Christmas in years.”

  “That’s right,” she said.

  Malin looked at Elna and Pop. They were his family now. His whole world. He could think of no better future than to rebuild and help them run the vineyard here on the island for the rest of his life, as the nation came back to life across the bay. The military was already crawling all over the old lighthouse area, building a newer and better bunker, but he’d been told that more were on the way. The US military intended to fully secure the West Coast against further attack. Indeed, another company of Marines had marched across the causeway just that morning.

  There remained a lot of uncertainty about the future, of course. Nothing was guaranteed. But Malin felt confident that they would face it together. He reached over and took Elna’s hand as the three of them gazed out across the vineyard—their home—and dared to dream about a better tomorrow.

  Christmas on the island meant a drop of about ten degrees in temperature—not a big change and certainly no snow. Still, they managed to decorate the winery and the new house for the season. A small pine tree from the mainland served as a Christmas tree from its place in the corner of the new dining room. Of course, the new house wasn’t nearly as fancy as the old guesthouse. It was smaller, simpler, but also quaint.

  Access to the mainland had reopened supply lines, and power had been restored by the military. Still, Elna felt like she was in a dream as she gazed at the roast turkey steaming on the platter in the middle of the dining table. Joe and Rita Dulles had done most of the work preparing the meal—at their insistence. Mashed potatoes, a green bean casserole, dinner rolls, a giant pitcher of iced tea, turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, but also a salad made of the wild berries that Selene had liked.

  I hope Selene is happy in Manchester, Elna thought. She seemed so excited to go. That girl has so much potential. Patients at the clinic will love her.

  Joe Dulles rose and grabbed the carving knife, slicing into the breast of the turkey. Somehow, Norman had managed to talk Staff Sergeant Prig into joining them for dinner, and he’d brought Mac, Spence, and Golf along with him. Only Ant was missing. The injured Marine had been relocated after his long, debilitating bout with sepsis.

  Elna uncorked a bottle of the new winter wine. The pop of the cork produced a round of applause. She walked around the table, filling each glass in turn: Malin, Pop, Norman, Mac, Spence, Golf, Prig, Joe, Rita, then her own glass.

  “A toast,” Prig said, raising his glass. “To beautiful islands and great friends.”

  Everyone cheered and raised their glasses with him. Elna took a big sip, enjoying the hint of sweetness from the new wine. Joe Dulles began doling out slices of turkey, shuffling around the table. His wild, wispy hair had been neatly combed for the occasion, and he looked quite dapper for a seventy-five-year-old who’d recently survived a war.

  “Now, don’t you folks avoid that berry salad,” Rita Dulles said. “Selene left that recipe with me, and it’s very good.”

  “You said it,” Norman replied, picking up the salad bowl. “I miss that girl. She could roam through a patch of grass and come back with seventeen different kinds of edible berries.” He scooped some of the mixed berry salad onto his plate.

  “Those mayapples aren’t half bad,” Pop said. “I never would’ve thought to eat them if Selene hadn’t shown me. They’re nice and tart. Pass me that bowl when you’re done, Norman.”

  “Will do, Pop.”

  As Elna returned to her seat, she happened to glance at Spence. The Marine was scooping mashed potatoes onto his plate, but Elna spotted a familiar candy wrapper on the table beside his napkin. It was a new pack of Mentos, unopened. This struck her as funny, and she chuckled. Spence noticed, glanced at her, realized what she was looking at, and held up the pack of mints.

  “Christmas present from my grandma,” he said. “Can you believe it? She paid a private courier to drive a motorcycle all the way to the new base just to deliver it to me. Had it all wrapped up in green paper and everything.”

  This made everyone laugh, and it was warm and wonderful. Elna wouldn’t have minded if that laughter, that togetherness, that little moment, had gone on forever.

  End of Escaping Capture

  Island Refuge EMP Book Three

  PS: Do you love post-apocalyptic fiction? Then keep reading for an exclusive extract from Survive the Chaos (Small Town EMP Book One).

  Thank you!

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  About Grace Hamilton

  Grace Hamilton is the prepper pen-name for a bad-ass, survivalist momma-bear of four kids, and wife to a wonderful husband. After being stuck in a mountain cabin for six days following a flash flood, she decided she never wanted to feel so powerless or have to send her kids to bed hungry again. Now she lives the prepper lifestyle and knows that if SHTF or TEOTWAWKI happens, she’ll be ready to help protect and provide for her family.

  Combine this survivalist mentality with a vivid imagination (as well as a slightly unhealthy day dreaming habit) and you get a prepper fiction author. Grace spends her days thinking about the worst possible survival situations that a person could be thrown into, then throwing her characters into these nightmares while trying to figure out "What SHOULD you do in this situation?"

  You will find Grace on:

  BLURB

  When the lights go out, anarchy reigns supreme.

  After journalist Austin Merryman’s wife died, he and his fourteen-year-old daughter left home to travel the country in an old RV. But the comfort and renewal they sought soon descends into chaos.

  After a message from an old college buddy leads Austin to a bridge in the middle of nowhere, he finds his friend—now an NSA agent—waiting to give him a USB drive. Before the contents can be explained, machine gun fire strafes the bridge, killing Austin’s friend and forcing Austin into the raging river.

  Rescued downstream by a beautiful veterinarian, Austin learns that EMP attacks have thrust the world into eternal darkness—and separated him from the only person he has left. Now, he’ll move heaven and earth to locate his daughter and make it to his brother’s prepper hideaway in Utah.

  But the post-apocalyptic world is no longer a friendly place. Resources are growing scarce. Factions break out along ethnic and religious lines. Everyone is willing to do whatever it takes to survive in an increasingly hostile environment. And Austin’s daughter is caught right in the middle of this splintering society.

  But an even deadlier foe stalks them as they struggle across the landscape. Someone who hasn’t forgotten about the USB drive Austin possesses.

  And they’ll do anything to get it back.

  Grab your copy of Survive the Chaos

  www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  Chapter One

  Austin Merryman stored the last of the dinner dishes in the small cupboard of his thirty-two-foot fifth wheel. The RV wasn’t an ideal living space for a man and his fourteen-year-old daughter, but they’d been managing to make it work. As he and Savannah constantly reminded each other, it w
as both easy and difficult to keep the small living space clean. It only took a stray pair of shoes or a few dishes on the tiny kitchen counter to make things look untidy, and both of them were guilty of forgetting the fact on a too-regular basis.

  Waiting for Savannah to emerge from the little upper bedroom, he folded a blanket, tossed it on the couch, and put the TV remote back in the little caddy mounted on the wall. Austin liked things neat, though he knew Savannah had to clean up after him just as he was cleaning up after her now.

  “Savannah!” he called out, checking his watch again.

  She popped her head out from around the upstairs corner of the fifth-wheel, a hair dryer still in her hand. “What?”

  “I have to get going.”

  She shrugged as she wrapped the cord around her dryer. “I told you, I don’t need a ride. Leave already.”

  “I’ll be back within an hour or so. Where are you going exactly?” he asked. She’d told him she was going to the creamery for ice cream with the girl who lived on a nearby farm; somehow, he couldn’t believe it was that simple. He wanted to, but he’d seen the way she’d ogled that boy they’d run into in town—and the way they’d leaned in to each other to talk. He remembered being young and carefree. Yeah, it had been a long time ago, before life and the world had given him a much more jaded view of things, but he remembered. And Savannah was too pretty for him to forget what he’d been like as a teenage boy.

  “Dad, I already told you. We’re going to get ice cream,” she groaned, adjusting her hair in a hand mirror. “Me and Cassie.”

  Out with it, Austin. “Are you going to see that boy?” he asked.