Scar sat in the chair at the desk in her room at the lab, playing with the radio. She wasn’t supposed to have it, in fact she’d pretty much stolen it; but she had to try to contact the others. They had to know to make it here. Her forehead was pressed to the table, her locks of blonde hair fanned around her as she turned the dial, speaking every few moments. “This is Scarlett Kingsley. Is anyone out there? Can you hear me? Hello?” It was the same message, over and over, repetitive in her brain. She had to know they were okay. All of them. She kept praying, she’d been a coward to run, and had no right to know if they lived but she wanted to.
“Please. If anyone can hear me, please answer me.” She was about to turn the dial when she heard a different sort of static. “Hello?! hello! If you can hear me, try moving to somewhere a little higher. The signal’s not that great. Please!” maybe, just maybe it was them.
@basbrennan
