Page 25

The bus lurched to a stop, and Diana Wells steadied herself against the metal pole.

Her heart quickened as she stepped down from the bus.

The doors wheezed shut behind her, and the vehicle pulled away, leaving her alone on the empty street corner.

Streetlights flickered erratically, some dead entirely, creating pools of darkness between islands of sickly yellow light.

Diana pulled her coat tighter. After decades of broadcasting the unseen, of channeling ethereal voices, she was finally about to meet her guardian spirit for the first time.

She wondered, what form would he take?

She walked the block toward the factory—three stories of weathered brick, most windows broken or boarded, smokestacks rising against the night sky. It had once bustled with workers crafting shoes that walked across America, but had fallen to economic change.

Then the old building had been the birthplace of Astral Waves, where Diana had transformed into the Midnight Voice. Now it stood as a hollow monument, no longer of use.

When she reached the heavy wooden entrance doors, she saw that boards blocking the way had been pried loose.

One had fallen entirely, leaving a gap wide enough to slip through.

She ducked through the opening into the dark interior.

Dim light filtered through broken windows.

Her eyes adjusted slowly, revealing the cavernous main floor of the factory.

She hadn’t spent much time on this floor much during her Astral Waves days. They had built the small broadcast tower on the roof, and Ray had kept their equipment hidden in the basement.

Diana moved deeper into the factory, toward the back stairwell they had always used. When she opened that door, she saw that the thin beams of light barely penetrated the first few steps. She would be descending into absolute darkness.

She placed one hand against the cold wall, using it as a guide.

By the third step, the weak light from the factory floor no longer reached her.

The darkness was absolute and disorienting.

The fourth step. The fifth. How many were there?

In her memory, a dozen or so, but memory was a tricky companion.

Halfway down, doubt crept in. What if she fell? What if this was a mistake? Then a sound came from below.

“Diiiiiaaaannnnaaa.”

Relief washed through her—Zephyr was there, waiting.

“Zephyr?” she called, her voice small in the darkness.

“Come to me, Diana. I’ve been waiting.”

Relieved, she moved on downward in the dark, Zephyr’s voice encouraging her every step.

Diana also heard a subtle crackling that reminded her of...radio static. In all their previous communications, Zephyr’s voice had been clear, resonating directly in her mind. But she reminded herself that meeting a spiritual entity in physical form was unprecedented in her experience.

She reached the bottom of the stairs. Her outstretched hands touched nothing. She’d worked in this basement for two years, but in the absolute darkness, nothing was familiar. Her sense of direction faltered.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“This way.” The crackling words came from her right. “Follow my voice.”

Diana turned, taking small shuffling steps. The concrete floor was uneven beneath her feet. Something small skittered past—disturbed by her presence.

Finally her foot struck something solid—a wall. She moved her hands across it, feeling the smoothness of painted cinderblock, until she found the edge of what must be a doorframe.

“Yes,” the voice confirmed, seeming to come from just beyond that door. “You’ve found it. The place where it all began.”

The broadcast studio. Where she’d first channeled the Midnight Voice. Where listeners across the region had tuned in to hear prophecies and warnings, cosmic truths and spiritual guidance.

Her hand found a doorknob. It turned easily in her grip, and the door swung inward. The small studio had once contained their broadcasting equipment—a mixing board, microphones, recording devices. But now, nothing was visible in the darkness.

“Come in, Diana,” the voice said.

She stepped forward, across the threshold.

The door slammed shut behind her with a force that couldn’t have been natural. Diana spun around, heart pounding.

“Zephyr?”

“Tell me the message,” the static-ridden voice interrupted. “Tell me what the cosmic voice revealed.”

Cold fear washed through Diana as she realized that he voice was coming from a speaker in the room with her.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she cried.

“The cosmic voice spoke to you. It shared secrets meant only for the worthy. Now tell me what it said, if you value your life.”

***

Kevin Barrett stood in the dark hallway outside the studio. He had just slammed the door shut, trapping the Midnight Voice where she’d once broadcast her wisdom to the world—the same room where, years ago, she’d deemed him unworthy.

His hand tightened around a hand-held radio, its plastic casing warm against his palm.

He raised the radio to his lips, pressing the talk button to broadcast his words to the receiver that was inside the room with Diana.

He’d rigged the radio inside so that it transmitted her voice whenever she spoke.

“Diana?”

Her response was shaky. “Please, let me go. Whatever you want—”

“What I want,” Kevin interrupted, “is for you to think. To remember. Does my voice sound familiar to you? From some other time, perhaps?”

The radio crackled with silence. Kevin could almost see her inside the studio, trying to place his voice among the countless listeners and callers she’d encountered over the years.

“I... I don’t know what you mean,” she finally answered. “Should I recognize your voice?”

“Try harder,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Think back to Astral Waves. To this very building.”

“Were you...” Diana’s voice hesitated. “Were you a listener? A caller to my show?”

Kevin laughed, a harsh sound. “Closer. Much closer than that.”

Time seemed to stretch as he waited for her to make the connection.

“You worked here,” she said finally. “At the station.”

A small thrill ran through him. “Yes.”

“You were... technical staff? An engineer?”

“Yes,” Kevin breathed. “I worked the boards during your midnight broadcasts. I made sure your voice reached everyone who needed to hear it.”

“I’m sorry,” Diana said. “There were so many people at the station over the years. I can’t recall your name.”

The fragile bubble of Kevin’s excitement burst, replaced by a familiar, caustic anger.

“You don’t remember.” It wasn’t a question.

“My name is Kevin Barrett. I sat less than ten feet from you, night after night, for almost two years. I brought you herbal tea when your throat was sore. I adjusted your microphone levels to make your voice sound perfect. But when I asked you about the message in the static—” Kevin’s voice broke.

“You told me I wasn’t ready. That I was unworthy to know what the universe was trying to say. ”

“Kevin,” she whispered finally. “Yes, I... I remember now. You were always so quiet, so... intense.”

A small, bitter smile twisted Kevin’s lips. “Intense. Yes. And now I need to know, Diana. After all these years, I need you to tell me what it meant.”

“What what meant?”

“The message. The cosmic message you said you could hear in the radio static. The one you said I wasn’t ready for.”

The radio went silent. Kevin waited, his breathing shallow. This was the moment he’d been working toward. The revelation that would make sense of everything—the voices, the visions, the towers, the bodies. All of it was for this.

The seconds stretched into a minute. Then two. The silence was maddening.

“Diana?” he prompted.

A sound came through the speaker. It took Kevin a moment to recognize it. The Midnight Voice was weeping.

“I don’t remember,” she said between sobs. “I don’t remember what I thought I heard back then. It was too long ago, Kevin.”

***

“Mind the next turn,” Jenna warned Jake, pointing ahead to where the road narrowed. She braced herself against the dashboard as he took the sharp curve, the patrol car’s tires gripping the asphalt with a faint squeal.

“What I don’t understand,” Jake said when the car straightened out, “is why Diana would go back to the Astral Waves studio.”

“Maybe looking for something … evidence from back then, or... I don’t know.” Jenna couldn’t explain her certainty, even to herself. “Maybe lured there. But if I’m wrong about this, Jake...”

“Your instincts have never steered us wrong before,” Jake countered. “I’d bet on your gut over Morgan’s evidence any day.”

***

Diana cringed in the dark. How many hours had she spent in this very place, her voice traveling through the night to reach the faithful? The irony wasn’t lost on her: the studio that had once been her sanctuary was now her prison, and the man who once facilitated her broadcasts was now her captor.

She struggled to recall something—anything—about the insights she’d claimed to receive from radio waves all those years ago. In the haze of memory, it was difficult to separate genuine mystical experiences from the theatrical persona she had cultivated as the Midnight Voice.

She had believed some of what she said—truly believed it. But how much had been performance? How much had been the heady power of knowing thousands were listening to her every word?

The nearby transceiver crackled again.

“I’m waiting, Diana,” Kevin’s voice came through, tight with barely contained impatience.

“Kevin, I’m trying to remember. It was so long ago.”

“You told me it was the most important message humanity would ever receive,” he replied, his voice rising.

Diana’s mind raced. She had said something like that, hadn’t she? Part of her late-night rhetoric, designed to keep listeners tuned in through the small hours. But what had she claimed to hear? What supposed wisdom had she dangled before her audience like a spiritual carrot?

She could sense Kevin’s growing agitation even through the sporadic transmission of the radio. If she couldn’t produce the cosmic message he so desperately sought, what would he do to her?

“Kevin,” she said carefully, measuring each word. “The message came to me in fragments, in moments when the veil between worlds was thinnest. It wasn’t something I could simply repeat verbatim.”

“You’re stalling.”

His voice had changed—flattened, deadened in a way that sent a chill down her spine.

Diana swallowed hard. Her only chance was to invent something convincing, something that would satisfy his obsession.

“The message,” she began, forcing her voice into the melodious, authoritative tone of the Midnight Voice, “spoke of frequencies that bind all living things. It revealed that consciousness itself is a form of broadcast—thoughts and emotions traveling like radio waves between minds.”

It was a bluff, of course—an improvisation. She paused, listening for his reaction. When none came, she continued, her confidence wavering with each word.

“The static contained a pattern—a repeating sequence that matched the golden ratio found throughout nature. It suggested that by attuning ourselves to certain frequencies, we could access a collective consciousness, a shared wisdom that exists beyond individual human experience.”

Diana waited, heart hammering in her chest. Had she convinced him? The silence stretched, unbearable.

Then came a sound that froze her blood—laughter.

“You’re lying,” he cut her off, voice suddenly sharp as a blade. “Making it up as you go.”

“No,” she protested weakly. “I’m telling you what I remember.”

“I’ve spent twenty years searching for that message,” Kevin continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Twenty years listening to the static, trying to hear what you claimed to hear. I’ve built receivers, positioned them perfectly, used human conductors to amplify the signal.

But you never heard the message, did you?

” Kevin asked, his voice soft now. “I caught traces of it, scattered whispers, but you never heard a thing. You were a fraud all along. You made me think I was unworthy when you were the one who was truly unworthy.”

Silence filled the room again, broken only by Diana’s ragged breathing and the subtle electronic hum of the old equipment.

“I’m sorry, Kevin,” she finally said, the words inadequate even as she spoke them. “I never meant to hurt anyone.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” he replied, a strange peace in his voice that frightened her more than his anger had. “I know how to find the message myself. And you’re going to help me.”

“Help you?” Diana repeated, her voice small. “How?”

“The antenna on the roof still works,” Kevin explained, as casually as if discussing the weather. “With some adjustments, it could be quite effective. And with the right conductor—I might finally hear what I’ve been trying to hear all these years.”

The radio went silent. Then she heard the door swing open, and then shut again. He was in the room with her.

“Hello, Diana,” he said softly. “It’s time for your final broadcast.”