Exit Wounds

Outside the Wire

"By the pricking of my thumbs,

Something wicked this way comes."

-William Shakespeare, 'Macbeth'

We were halfway down the 85 when Rick thought to try the radio. If there was any way to see if Atlanta was safe or not, it would be to see if they still had people responding to the emergency radio channel.

"Broadcasting on Emergency Channel. We'll be approaching Atlanta on Highway 85. Anybody reads, please respond," Rick spoke into the radio, his eyes on the road, and mine on him. I was praying to God that somebody answered and told us that Atlanta was safe, because I didn't have a good feeling about going in there blind. "Hello. Hello. Can anybody hear my voice? Anybody out there? Anybody hears me, please respond. Hello, can you hear my voice? Hello. Hello. Can anybody hear my voice? Can you hear my voice?"

"Rick...nobody is answering." I said, feeling a little disappointed. I hadn't much hope, but enough for it to be ripped apart by the silence on the other end of the radio.

"If anybody reads, please respond. Broadcasting on Emergency Channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on Highway 85. If anybody reads, please respond." Rick continued, and I sighed, before holding my hand out for the radio.

Rick glanced at me before handing it over.

"This is Sergeant Thea Winters of the US Army Special Forces. If anybody reads, I am approaching Atlanta with one guest on Highway 85, and need to know if the area is secure. Please respond. I repeat, this is Sergeant Thea Winters of the US Army Special Forces. I belong to the 75th Ranger Regiment and I am approaching Atlanta on Highway 85, please respond. I am outside the wire, and need confirmation that the Atlanta base is secure. Please respond."

No response came. I sighed and placed the radio back onto its hook.

"I guess we're going in blind. God help us." I muttered, before focusing on the road.

✪☮✪☮✪

"Hello. Hello. Can anybody hear my voice?" A voice crackled over the radio that rested on an old tree stump in the middle of a make-shift camp, and a young, blonde woman rushed over to answer.

"Hey. Hello?" She spoke in to the radio. An older man, with a silver beard, wearing a hat on his head moved towards the radio, wondering who could be on the other end.

"Can you hear my voice?" The voice, a male voice the blonde decided, asked.

"Yes, I can hear you. You're coming through. Over." She said, looking up at the older gentlemen as she tried desperately to be heard by the mysterious man on the other side of the radio wavelength.

"If anybody reads, please respond. Broadcasting on Emergency Channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on Highway 85. If anybody reads, please respond."

"We're just outside the city," The radio crackled and the man seemed to disappear for a moment, and the young woman sighed in frustration. More people had gathered now, wanting to know if they were able to speak to the individual trying to communicate with anyone who heard him. "Damn it. Hello? Hello? He couldn't hear me. I couldn't warn him."

"Try to raise him again," The older man instructed before he spied the man who knew how the radio worked best. "Come on, son, you know best how to work this thing."

The dark-haired man walked over, imbedding his axe into the stump, missing the radio, and took the speaker off the blonde.

"Hello, hello. Is the person who called still on the air?"