Page 33 of Searching Blind

Ethan was silent for a moment. “I might have an old walkie-talkie somewhere,” he finally said. “Will that do?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Sawyer replied, keeping his tone neutral. He didn’t want to give Ethan too much hope— there was always the chance that the parts wouldn’t be compatible.

With a muttered curse, Ethan left to search for the walkie-talkie, leaving Sawyer alone with the damaged radio. He picked up the frayed wire again, running his fingers over its brittle plastic coating thoughtfully. It was always damage like this— small, yet devastatingly effective— that caused the most trouble. The analogy wasn’t lost on him— in a group of people, it was often one person who could fray the sense of unity and trust, causing everything to fall apart.

How the hell was he supposed to keep this group together when they didn’t trust him, and he didn’t trust them?

He frowned as his fingers ran over the wire again. This wasn’t from normal wear and tear. The insulation of the wire was cleanly cut as if by a knife.

A knot of suspicion hardened in his gut.

Ethan was the only one who had touched the radio since they arrived. But why would he sabotage it?

“Here,” Ethan’s gruff voice interrupted his thoughts, and something plastic was pushed into his hands.

“Thanks.” He studied the walkie-talkie by touch, noting its size and weight. It was larger than most modern ones, which meant it held promise for what he needed. He set it down on the table and began to systematically dismantle it.

As he suspected, the walkie-talkie had similar components to the radio— old technology often shared common design elements. His fingers moved with practiced ease, locating the compatible wire and disconnecting it from the motherboard.

With a fine-tuned precision that left Ethan grumbling with what could only be begrudging admiration, Sawyer spliced the wire into the radio’s circuit. As he worked, the anxious chatter in the room faded to a tense silence that prickled at the back of his neck.

“Just need to connect this here…” he muttered under his breath as he reattached the new wire. After a couple of failed attempts, a surge of triumph coursed through him as he finally managed to secure the connection.

“All right, let’s see if she’ll turn on now.” He flicked the switch and held his breath.

A crackle of static filled the room.

Sawyer exhaled, adjusted a few dials, and pressed down on the talk button. “This is Blue Mountain Fire Tower calling for any available assistance. Does anyone copy?”

More static.

“Great,” Chuck muttered. “He broke it.”

Sawyer ignored the comment, adjusting the frequency dial before trying again. “This is Blue Mountain Fire Tower calling for any available assistance. Does anyone copy?”

The radio hissed and whined, but slowly, another sound emerged – a faint crackle and then a voice so low it was almost drowned out by the static.

“…Blue Mountain…”

The voice faded into static again.

“That was a reply!” Theodore said. “He got through!”

A ripple of excitement went through the group, and he felt them all crowding around him. It made the back of his neck prickle, but he tried to block them out and turned up the volume dial. “Bad copy. Repeat your last transmission.”

Static popped and crackled.

He changed channels and tried again.

Still nothing.

Sawyer growled, frustration burning through him. He was so close. It was a delicate dance of tuning and adjusting, one he had performed countless times before in his military days. The radio was his lifeline, the only connection to the outside world they had. Failure wasn’t an option.

As seconds ticked by into minutes, the excitement in the room slowly started to ebb away, replaced by a stifling dread. Ethan’s pacing grew more frantic, Chuck’s muttered curses louder, and a low whimper from Joel spiked tension even higher. Sawyer ignored them all, his attention solely on the radio in front of him.

“Fuck this,” Ethan growled, pushing past Sawyer. “Let me?—”

“Back off,” Sawyer snapped, his tone icy. “I’ve got this.”

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