by Paul Z. Ford
In the silence, Kimble spun the knob to turn up the radio. They were greeted by static, Kahn flinching at the sudden noise. He coughed and remembered Kimble’s radios in his home, and the information that seemed so far away. Warning him about the dangers of the world and pushing him onto this quest, the one that ended in his wife and son’s deaths. He ducked his face into the seat as Kimble tried to find anything on any station.
“…cuate to the Lone Star Evacuation Center…”
They both looked at the black box of the radio as the unexpected and unclear words burst into the air.
“…you are still within the city… follow this signal… you will be safe…”
Static buzzed out of the radio.
“…help each other… careful of violence from strang…” The signal hissed and waned. Kahn turned back again, watching the glow of the fire disappearing on the horizon and realizing help would never bring his family back. The violence of others brought death to his door. Kimble hadn’t saved him from his own dark thoughts as the radio signal seemed to gain strength. “…quote the great doctor… find hope in the darkness and help each other…”
“…returning violence for violence multiplies violen… ding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of star… rkness cannot drive out darkn… only light can do that…”
The words faded into static as they continued along the hilly road, away from their home, and away from the city. Hissing and buzzing white noise became interspersed with twanging guitar as both men half listened. Muffled lyrics sang through the interrupting static as the radio tried to keep ahold of the weak signal.
...I was walking down a dusty road when I came upon…
…walking with my head hung down, he just had to stop and pass the time…
…in the salty brine, floatin’ in the salty brine…
The music disappeared. After a minute of jarring noise, Kimble reached down and turned off the radio, leaving them with only the occasional swipe of the wiper blades through the silence. Kahn was numb and unnoticing, thoughts drifting away from grief over his family or pity for himself. His heart hardened with hate. Hate for the Neighbors. Hate for Llewelyn and his soldiers, killing and burning to cleanse the world of people like Kahn, and Aisha, and Daniel. The radio’s message of hope, rescue, and safety meant nothing to the shattered man. Hope was buried by rising darkness. His eyes burned with thoughts of revenge, and violence, and death. Killing and burning retribution, inflicting agony and terror, becoming the threat the Neighbors feared.
Sunrise introduced them to a hazy new day, and an uncertain future.