Early on, someone had dug up an old wind up radio while searching for food and scrap in one of the nearby ruined homes. It floated around Sundowne a bit, even caused a few fights about whether to treat it is a valuable tool, or to let the kids play with it.
Eventually, the radio made its way to the makeshift guard post at the gate. Somebody'd had the idea to kill two birds with one stone: give whoever was manning the post something to do to take a break from pointlessly staring off into the empty wasteland, and do regular checks to see if maybe, just maybe someone out there started transmitting. Only thing it ever picked up was static.
Until the day this song was playing.
The guard didn't even know what to do. She jumped up, grabbed the radio, and ran to the first person she saw, the thought that she was abandoning her post never even crossing her mind.
The excitement around Sundowne was palpable. Someone was out there! And had electricity and an FM transmitter!
But when the song came to an end, so did the transmission.
Over the next several hours, excitement waned as people took turns winding the radio up, only to find more static. Folks who hadn't gotten to hear it for themselves didn't believe it, thought it was some kind of weird trick. By the time the sun set, the crowd around the radio had thinned considerably.
But a few determined residents kept at it, keeping the radio going all night and into the next day. Until early the next afternoon, right around the same time as before…
It played once, then the static was back.
The same again the next day. This time, nearly every resident of Sundowne was there to hear it. It was no longer a rumor, a trick.
People talked about sending out a search party to try to find the source… the person or people behind the transmission. But, where to look? Which direction to search?
A simple wind up radio was nowhere near enough to even attempt to triangulate the location of the transmitter.
But it became a daily ritual to come and listen to the song. Practically all of Sundowne the first day, a few less the next. Within two weeks, there were just a handful who still came.
Then on the third day of the third week, the song didn't play. Nor the next day, or the next. By the time another week had passed, almost nobody came to try to listen.
And the radio never picked up anything but static ever again.
