Kaywily -

For the first time in a decade, someone smiled. — A piece by KayWily.

“—anyone out there? This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill.” KayWily

The Last Frequency

A pause. Then, through the hiss of a dying world: For the first time in a decade, someone smiled

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. This is not a drill

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.

KayWily’s hand hovered over the transmitter key. Hope was a dangerous thing; it had a shelf life of about three seconds after you last ate. But the voice kept coming, naming coordinates that were only two blocks away.