A pause. Then, through the hiss of a dying world:
The antenna on the roof had been dead for eleven years, but tonight, static crackled through the old ham radio like a secret clearing its throat. KayWily
The voice was young, terrified, and impossibly clear. A pause
“I see your light.”
KayWily pressed the headphones tighter, ignoring the dust that puffed from the worn leather. Outside, the city was a graveyard of glass and concrete. Inside, a single green light pulsed on the transceiver. A pause. Then
“—anyone out there? This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill.”