Island Refuge EMP
Escaping Conflict
Escaping Chaos
Escaping Capture
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, OCTOBER 2020
Copyright © 2020 Relay Publishing Ltd.
All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Grace Hamilton is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Post-Apocalyptic projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.
www.relaypub.com
Blurb
Expect edge-of-your-seat dystopian drama in book 3 of Grace Hamilton’s post-apocalyptic series.
The time has come to pick a side and choose between bad or worse.
Gathered on the shores of the Pasqualee vineyard island, Elna and a small group of EMP-attack survivors are anticipating a military ambush. From a distance, armed soldiers are attempting to cross the drawbridges that connect their safe retreat to the grim horrors of the new world on the mainland.
What they don’t yet realize is that this uninvited group of fighters is under attack themselves – from the dangerous paramilitary unit led by Elna’s rogue ex-boyfriend. When the battle-worn Marines finally make the crossing, they ask more questions than they’re willing to answer, leaving the island inhabitants questioning whether they can trust the unwelcome visitors.
Until their true purpose is uncovered… and Elna and her father discover that their island is hiding more secrets than they could ever have imagined.
As they come to terms with the revelations about their home, a new band of mercenaries descends upon them with the sole purpose of destroying their vineyard’s secret, so that chaos can rein free.
Now the fight is no longer about the endurance of just the Pasqualee group. Elna, along with faithful Malin and the original survivors, must protect the island. The future of America depends on it.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
End of Escaping Capture
Thank you!
About Grace Hamilton
Also By Grace Hamilton
1
A strong wind was blowing in from the west, sweeping over the island, across the fishing dock, and out into the bay. It pushed Elna’s shoulder-length black hair into her eyes, and she tucked it behind her ears. Then she opened the legs of the telescope, set it on the dock, and pointed it in the direction of the drawbridge.
“Can you see it now?” Malin asked.
Something was happening out around the second drawbridge. She’d first seen it through the binoculars—people brawling with fists and tools—but Malin had gone to the storage shed halfway up the hill and brought back the telescope. Now, she could see it clearly.
The second drawbridge was four miles out into the bay, and there was frantic movement happening around it. Two groups of people had squared off against each other on the causeway. The brawling seemed to have ceased, and they were drawn up in in what appeared to be battle lines. The more distant group wore the camouflage uniforms of Rod Smith’s militia. The group closer to the drop-off appeared to be wearing US military uniforms of some kind, though Elna couldn’t tell which branch from this distance.
Rod’s men were shouting and pointing. The other group was spread across all four lanes, their backs to the drawbridge. Among them, she saw at least one small child wailing in terror and clutching her forehead. Some of them seemed to be injured.
“Rod Smith’s boys are facing off against another group,” Elna said, stepping to one side and gesturing at the telescope. “There’s a kid over there.”
Raymond Cabello and his son, Daniel, were standing at the end of the fishing dock, gazing off into the distance, though the second drawbridge was little more than a vague blue-gray shape with the naked eye. Suddenly, Daniel’s knees wobbled, and he caught himself against the handrail. His father reached over and put an arm around his shoulders. The boy was doing better these days, thanks to the experimental medication they’d brought back from Manchester, but he was still very sick.
“Could it be a mutiny?” Malin said, peering through the telescope. “A few families from the militia camp trying to break free and escape?”
Norman took a look next, scanning back and forth with the telescope.
“No, I don’t think they’re from Rod’s camp,” Elna said. “They seem to be dressed in actual military uniforms. These people came from somewhere else.”
Norman gasped. “My God, there’s someone in the water.”
“He must have been pushed in,” Elna said. “They’re standing awfully close to the edge.”
“This guy’s swimming around,” Norman said. “It looks like he’s headed for the other side of the drawbridge. Can he climb up there?”
Elna looked through the telescope again. It didn’t take long to spot the swimmer. This was no desperate man trying not to drown. He was speeding with purpose across the gap toward the far side of the drawbridge. As she watched, she realized he was cutting across to the northeast corner, where the mechanism for the drawbridge hung out of the bottom of the service building like the guts of an eviscerated carcass.
“The bay is crawling with sharks,” she said. “He’s lucky they’re not swarming.”
As she looked carefully, the swimmer’s clothing seemed to shift and change. She couldn’t make sense of it. It almost appeared as if the striped pattern was animated.
“What in the heck is going on?” she muttered. She picked up the telescope by its three-legged stand and moved closer to the end of the fishing dock, as if that might give her a clearer view. “What is he wearing? Some kind of weird pattern.”
It’s a wetsuit,
