Chapter Text
The radio wasn’t switching from channel to channel, nor was it making white noise. It was just sitting silently on the table.
Out of boredom, Max was pacing in circles around the table. Secretly, she wondered if the radio was dozing off — or whatever the radio equivalent of dozing off was.
First came the white noise. Then it started jumping from channel to channel.
“Couldn’t — find — anything.”
Max walked over to it.
“Nothing?”
“No — couldn’t — find — anything. Not — even — a — small — clue.”
After saying that, the radio played a crying sound effect. When the effect ended, it continued,
“Maybe — you — were — right. I’m — an — idiot — and — I — clung — to — a — stupid — hope — that — whatever — that — thing — was — outside — was — my — body.”
Max’s heart tightened. Even if she didn’t want to admit it, for a moment she genuinely felt sorry for the radio.
“Hey, keep your hope up. Maybe that thing wasn’t your body, but that doesn’t mean your body isn’t still out there somewhere. Maybe one day you’ll find it. Who knows?”
The radio went quiet for a short while. Then there was a crackling sound, and then it stopped again. It felt too tired and too disappointed to keep jumping between channels to talk. Max had said those words to comfort it, but it couldn’t really be said that they worked. “One day” could be tomorrow… or ten years from now.
Right now, the radio just wanted to exist silently. But apparently Max interpreted its silence not as “I don’t want to talk right now,” but as “keep talking.”
“Isn’t the idea of it staying in one place better anyway? If it’s wandering around, it’d be harder to find.”
Max looked at the radio, waiting for a response, but none came.
She sighed and sat down next to it. Even if it wasn’t talking to her right now, knowing it was there beside her made her feel less alone.
At first, she heard a familiar melody coming from very far away.
Max lifted her head and looked around the room.
Then lyrics joined the melody.
And it formed a song Max would recognize even if she heard it a hundred years later:
Running Up That Hill.
Max got to her feet and tried to figure out which direction the sound was coming from.
“Radio! You can hear what I’m hearing too, right?”
The radio didn’t answer again, but Max didn’t care. She knew very well what she was hearing. The Party was trying to get her out of here.
Just as she grabbed the door handle, the radio spoke.
“Did — you — swear — to — die — or — something — damn — it — Max?”
Max let go of the handle and looked at the radio. For a moment, she had forgotten about it.
“I know you’re scared. Believe me, I’m scared too. But trust me, that song we’re hearing is our ticket out of here. If this place is what I think it is.”
Max walked back to the table, picked up the radio, and returned to the door. The radio was strongly against the idea of going outside.
“No — Max — no — don’t — even — think — about — it — Max!”
Max ignored what the radio was saying and stepped out of the room with determined steps.