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Chapter 20 / Reset Miles

  REWRITE TO BE MILES’ POV

  Miles found it amusing that while he was the one who had actually discovered the communications tower in the first place, Clay had quickly taken over navigating them through the jungle. They’d all gotten a glimpse of the tip of the tower peeking over the ridge in the early morning light and now Clay felt confident that he knew how to get there. Not that it was terribly difficult to forge a path given they’d discovered a trail through the jungle at the edge of the clearing near the house. It was patchy and overgrown in places, but not hard to follow even though it meandered back and forth frequently to avoid steep or rocky areas.

  Even though Clay’s insistence on taking the lead—and being in charge in general—were traits that obviously infuriated Nariko and even irritated Miles a bit as well, Miles was actually grateful that he wasn’t the one having to lead their little expedition. Lingering at the back of the group gave him a chance to look around and really take in their surroundings. It also allowed him to keep an eye on his companions. Clay struck him as honest, the type of guy who didn’t bother hiding much. But Nariko was a different story. Her prickliness struck Miles as being affected rather than natural, as if she was actually trying to create tension in the group. That didn’t make much sense to him unless it was an unconscious habit that surfaced when she was stressed. As long as everyone was on edge, then no one was paying too much attention to her. He suspected that she was one of those overly aggressive types who used anger to distract from their own insecurities.

  Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as they climbed and he was grateful for the density of the forest since only a trickle of sunlight managed to filter through the leafy canopy and the shade was almost bearable. It would have been more pleasant if a breeze had managed to survive into the overgrowth, but unfortunately the air was still and humid, turning every bit of exposed skin into a sticky, sweaty mess.

  “Are you sure this path isn’t leading us in circles?” Nariko asked with a whine in her voice that was quickly getting on Clay’s last nerve. Miles could tell by the way the muscle on the side of the muscular man’s neck twitched whenever she spoke. “How do we even know it’s leading us to the tower?”

  “I have an excellent sense of direction,” Clay countered. Tapping his nose, he added, “Magnet in my nose. We’re going the right way. I can feel it.”

  Miles laughed, but Nariko’s scowl only deepened. “A magnet. In your nose. Yeah right.”

  “Actually, all kinds of creatures have them, including humans.” Miles pointed out, remember an article he’d read a number of years ago, one of those internet rabbit holes that you could fall down all too easily once you started looking up weird science facts. “Although it hasn’t been completely proven that we use them to navigate.”

  “Then if we all have them, then why isn’t my magnet feeling confident that this is the right way?” Nariko asked.

  “Because your magnet isn’t as good as mine. Obviously.” Clay grinned to soften the statement, and the little dimple that appeared on his cheek seemed to have some impact because Nariko actually managed a stiff smile.

  “Fine. But can your magnet tell us how close we are? What if the tower is too far away to reach in a day? We didn't pack enough food and water for an overnight stay in the jungle. Not to mention the other supplies we would need for that."

  “I’m telling you. We're almost there," Clay replied with unshakable confidence.

  “We’ve already started to descend again, so surely we’re on the other side of the ridge,” Miles pointed out. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to turn around now without finding something.”

  Nariko turned her skepticism on him now. “Even if it takes all night?”

  Shrugging, Miles pointed at the glow of the sun still visible through the trees. “The sun is still high in the sky. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  Nariko grumbled to herself but fell silent.

  But the debate was soon moot because after another twist of the path around a rocky cliff, they had visual confirmation of their destination. It appeared first as a flash through the trees, the sunlight reflecting off of metal and casting bright reflections that even the thick canopy couldn’t obscure. But then the jungle began to thin and abruptly they found themselves in a clearing looking up at a massive communications tower perched on the edge of a ridge. The island fell away on one side of the clearing to a valley far below, and the tower was tall enough that it should have been visible much sooner than they saw it if the trees had been less thick.

  “See?” Clay said with a triumphant look as he turned back to face them.

  “Yeah, yeah. We see it,” Nariko said with a roll of her eyes, but she had a begrudging little smile on her face that was almost pleasant.

  “Wait, shouldn’t we scope it out for a minute first?” Miles asked, glancing at the overgrown fence that was half collapsed into the jungle. There was a large red sign attached to the gate that was too faded by the sun to be legible but it appeared to be a warning message. “What if there are people in there?” he nodded to the little hut situated at the bottom of the tower.

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  “Then maybe they know something about how we got here and how to get off the island,” Clay said.

  “Or maybe they’re the ones who brought us here,” Miles said with a thread of concern in his voice.

  “Take a look at that front door,” Nariko said. “Notice anything strange about it?”

  They both turned to look and she used their distraction to begin climbing the hill to the building. But they had both seen what she was referring to. The door was crisscrossed with vines as if it hadn’t been opened in a long time. Clay shrugged and followed after her, but Miles couldn’t help looking around the clearing for any signs of movement, still on high alert just in case there was something they had missed.

  Nariko must have been stronger than she looked because she was able to clear away the vines with only a few fierce tugs, pulling open the door with a squeal before they could even reach her. She disappeared inside the dark building and Clay jogged to catch up, catching the door as it began to swing slowly shut behind her.

  The room was dimly lit by flickering lights of various colors. A shaft of watery light filtered through a high window on one side, tinted green by the foliage grown half covering the panes. As Clay’s eyes adjusted he was able to make out a wall laden with various equipment and several tables overflowing with electronic devices and papers.

  Making a satisfied noise, Nariko punched something on the other side of the room and Clay was momentarily blinded by a flood of light. “Found the lights,” Nariko announced belatedly.

  Squinting into the brilliance cast by the fluorescent lights hanging nakedly from the ceiling on chains, Clay shook his head and took a closer look around. The flashing lights he’d seen glimmering in the darkness like fireflies were emanating from a wall of antiquated computer equipment that lined one wall. Miles and Nariko immediately focused their attention on that wall, so Clay began searching the rest of the room. He found stacks of manuals, several three-ring binders labeled with various codes and apparently filled with rules and procedures, but none of it made much sense to him.

  There were sheafs of print outs of nothing but rows and rows of letters and numbers. Code of some sort, he assumed. There were reams of the stuff, some highlighted and noted in ways that made even less sense to him. But the thing that gave him pause was the row of brilliant yellow suits hung to one wall, hazmat suits complete with respirators and oxygen tanks. The suits themselves looked newer than the rest of the equipment in the room as if they were a recent addition, but the oxygen tanks were mostly empty. They were also equipped with heavy duty noise canceling headphones.

  Miles and Nariko were mumbling about the equipment at this point and it was obvious to Clay that both of them new more about radio signals and communications equipment than he did. They were debating about the best way to get it running, but soon they were fiddling with the devices and static was emanating from speakers.

  While they attempted to find a signal, Clay continued to search. He found a world map pinned in various places, but the majority of the pins were in North and South America. It almost looked like a population map or like one of those photos taken from space of where all the lights on earth were concentrated. But the spacing and clustering didn’t make sense. If he squinted, it almost appeared as if they were all radiating from a concentrated central point in the center of the United States, an area in the midwest that was not the most populous. And then there were paths like major routes between cities along which more dots were placed. It reminded him of a board game he’d played once that tracked outbreaks of disease.

  Shaking his head, he backed away and continued his search, shivering as Nariko and Miles found a channel with a little ghostly music crackling through beneath the static. Then they found another one with a robotic voice reading a series of numbers out in monotone, but even that was difficult to make out.

  “A numbers station?” Miles asked and Nariko shook her head in confusion. “You’ve heard of those, right? No one really knows who is behind them or what they’re for, but there are a lot of theories.”

  Clay tried to ignore Miles’ explanation, not in the mood for all of this eerie shit and unsettled more than he wanted to admit. Miles and Nariko continued scanning through the frequencies while Clay shuffled through useless papers, pausing on one that was even weirder than the robotic numbers. Rather than random static, it seemed to be transmitting some sort of computer coded message, a cacophony of hums, buzzes and clicks reminiscent of the dial up modem sound he had heard in memes on the internet. Even though he couldn’t remember much about his childhood, he knew that era predated him, although it might have been something he’d remembered his parents laughing about. It was like a joke, not something to be worried about, but there was something about the sound. It seemed to burrow into his head and disrupt his thinking. He was relieved when Nariko finally began scanning to the next frequency, feeling as if a pressure had been lifted.

  His relief was short-lived because that was when he found the note. It had fallen beneath the desk as if falling off of the equipment where Nariko and Miles were intently working.

  He must have made a sound in reaction when he picked it up because both Miles and Nariko turned to look at him then in surprise. Dropping the paper as if burned, he pointed at the note silently and backed away.

  “What is it?” Nariko demanded.

  Struggling to find his voice, Clay gestured to the radio equipment and rasped out, “Off. Turn it off.”

  Before they could react, a voice suddenly boomed from the speakers startling them all. “…last transmission from the United States of America. We are overrun…are everywhere. Our borders are closed…at your own risk…seek refuge elsewhere…” The message was interrupted by a horrific scream, an inhuman sound that was so loud it seemed to be crawling through the speakers. Then a robotic voice interrupted as the message replayed. “Iteration 453257. Repeating…”

  Miles switched off the signal before it could continue. Clay had lifted up the note so they could both see it, his voice still feeling raw with his attempt to speak past the lump in his throat.

  The note read: do not use the equipment! The disease is transmitted via sound.

  Backing away from the now silent equipment, Miles said in a shaky voice. “The disease? What disease?”

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