Frequency from home

He’d accomplished nothing.

Gab collapsed on his back, breathing heavily as he pulled himself up onto the ledge at the top of the climb.

No.

Gab felt a bitter feeling well up inside him as he looked down at his damaged body.

Worse than nothing.

Ahead of him the other slaves were no longer visible, vanishing up the trail before the storms made the long march impassable.

What was he thinking trying to save someone?

He couldn’t even save himself.

The wailing wind grew louder and louder as he stumbled up the trail, and among it he began to hear something.

The faint sound of a voice.

It sounded unnatural, otherworldly, a haunting hint of a voice that echoed through the cavern, like nothing he had heard in the mines before.

The voices of the dead. It was perhaps no wonder then, that Gab was hearing them.

To follow it was surely madness, And yet…

Gab closed his eyes as he stumbled mesmerised towards the source of the voice, no more able to stop himself than he could stop breathing.

He felt like it was calling him.

Gab kneeled before a pile of rocks, frantically scraping at the ground with bloody fingers as the crackling voice grew louder and louder.

It felt familiar.

At the base of the rocks he unearthed something unnatural, the voice growing louder, a woman's voice, cycling through what sounded like dozens of languages, each tantalizingly familiar until…

“If you can understand this, if you need help, please respond.”

The last words rang out loud and clear as he fully exposed the plastic beneath the dirt, his hands clutching at it and pulling out a worn and beaten radio.

“If you can understand this, if you need help, please respond.” The radio repeated before cycling to another language.

Hands shaking he fumbled with the radio, heart racing as he pressed the talk button.

“Hello.” He whispered, a choking, barely audible sound.

A moment later the radio fell silent, the voice ceasing its cycling through the languages, still and dead in his hands.

“No.” he begged, desperately pressing the talk button again. “Are you there? Please...”

It crackled back into existence, the voice on the other end asking a single question. 

“Are you human?”

“Yes.” he whispered.

The radio transmitted only a hissing static.

“Are you in any immediate danger?” the woman on the other side asked eventually.

“Yes.”

The radio crackled again. “Will you survive until tomorrow?”

He paused, uncertain about it himself.

“Yes.”

The radio crackled to life one final time. “Power down this device until this time tomorrow. Until then, for the sake of humanity…”

The radio crackled to static with her final words.

“Survive.”

…

No.

Awa’s body had begun to convulse, the sound of her seizing body scraping against the stone mingling in with the crackling radio.

“Breathe.” He told her, rubbing her back as the seizures ended, her body finally calming down and growing still.

Too still.

“Awa?” Gab pressed his ear against her lips, unable to detect any hint of her breathing, a mindless panic overcoming him a moment later.

What should he do?

As if in answer to his question Gab began to hear a voice through the static “...can….hear...are you there?”

He reached desperately for the radio, gritting his teeth as he dropped it in his haste before pressing the talk button.

“I need help, she’s.. She’s not breathing… I don’t know what to…”

“Calm down. We’ll help.” The voice on the radio said soothingly. “Not breathing… Is she human?”

“No,” He replied, hand tightening on the radio.

“Humanoid? How large are they?”

“Yes.” He looked down at her body. “About… the same size as me.”

The radio hissed for a moment, the woman on the other side considering.

“I’m going to need you to follow my instructions very carefully, do you think you can do that?”
Gab inhaled, struggling to stop his body shaking. “Yes.”

“Are her mouth and throat clear? Has she been vomiting?” The radio asked first.

“No, it’s ok.’ He said haltingly, tilting her limp head towards him, the lifelessness of it making him feel sick.

“I want you to lie her on her back and place your hands on the center of her chest, one above the other. Let me know when you’ve done that ok?”

“Ok” he whispered, lifting up Awa's dirty hemplike shirt and pressing his palms against her emaciated chest.

“You're going to need to push, hard and fast every time I tell you, two inches deep then releasing. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” His hands were sweating.

“Now.”

He pushed, his palms compressing her chest, the frail bones buckling under the pressure.

“Now.”

Again.

“Now.”

Her prompts came rhythmic and fast, every push into Awa’s lifeless chest met by silence.

“Stop.” The radio commanded. “Now, tilt her head back, pinch her nose and breathe into her mouth.”
“Breathe.”

He did as she commanded, watching Awa’s chest rise as he forced air into it.

“Breathe.”

Again with no sign of a response.

“Compressions.” The Radio said, beginning a constant stream of prompts, each met by a push on the beast woman's lifeless body.

She wouldn’t move.

“Now.”

He didn't want to be alone.

“Now.”

His hands dug into her chest and…

She drew a deep shaking breath, her body convulsing as she rolled over, coughing blood and mucus over the floor as she reached pitifully towards Gab, hand weakly clutching a hold of him as she gasped for air.

“You're ok.” he whispered, collapsing back against the wall in exhaustion, his body weak and sweaty with relief.

“You’re ok.” He whispered again, patting her head as she breathed, barely conscious but alive.

The radio crackled again. “Keep her on her side, if she can hold down water give it to her once her breathing stabilises.”

“We don’t have any.” he whispered, his dry throat a testament to the fact.

A hissing static, and when the woman on the radio talked again her voice was gentle “I see.. you’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

The radio hissed, calming and consistent as it mingled with Awa’s laboured breathing.

“What’s your name?” The woman asked.

“Gab” he whispered weakly.

“Gabriel…” The woman murmured to herself as a keyboard clicked. “Among the missing… There Gabriel.”

A horrified intake of breath and the radio once again hissed into silence.

“You’re…a child?” She asked him, her voice cracking.

“Yes.” Gab whispered, gently stroking sweaty hair from Awa’s face.

“Gabriel.” She repeated. “You're the first person we’ve been able to contact on the other side.”

The radio crackled. “...Our window is closing…

The woman's voice was growing distorted, cutting in and out.

“....But I promise Gab, we’ll do everything we can to bring you home.”