"Up next, we got some poppin' rock to ease away your post-post-apocalyptic blues. That's right folks, it's time for another old-world-oldie, so turn up your volume because it's 'Johnny B. Goode'."

- ᴄʜᴜᴄᴋ ᴡᴀʟʟᴀʙʏ ғɪsʜᴇʀ
ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴏɴ 𝟷𝟹𝟺𝟶ᴀᴍ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴠᴇ

Ғᴇʀɴɪᴇ
sᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ 𝟽: ᴏғғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴀsᴛ ᴏғ ᴀʟᴀsᴋᴀ

Nothing made me feel more at home than the welcoming sting of the -10°F wind chill.

As the sun drifted down and the gulls followed its warmth the evening wind blew at my back, messing with my tangled curls as I tightened the strings of my hood.

There was only an hour left before sunset so I shuffled across the snow as fast as I could, the thick woven wooden shoes tied to my feet slowing me down with each step. They were clunky and heavy, and with every move they crunched loudly against the snow, echoing across the endless flats of Sector 7. I could practically hear Aspen nagging in my mind to shut up and be quiet, but there were no living creatures for miles and I was so close.

Wiping the beads of sweat from my eyes and letting out a huff of hot breath that steamed in the cold, I looked up to see the tower; perfectly framed against the empty orange sky.

A smile started on my lips and with renewed strength I pulled my sled along, whistling an ancient tune to the wind as it danced with the snow.

It was a metallic monster. The tower itself over six hundred feet tall: paint-chipped, crumbling, a lost relic from the old world, and a symbol of fear. I guess they thought since the dead were from the past that everything that came with them was evil too, but they didn't understand. They never read books like I did. The ones about electricity, medicine, and old-world artifacts made of precious metals and stone. To so many people the tower was nothing more than a vantage point, a marker that reflected the sun, and the perfect gardening spot.

They weren't half wrong; it formed the perfect shield during blizzards, no animals would go near it and all the kids were so afraid of it there wasn't a risk of finding a youngster gorging away at the strawberries.

To so many people, it was just another reason to fear the old world, but to me, it was home.

At the door of the largest greenhouse I tied off my sled, grabbing the bundle I'd wrapped in Aspen's sweater and the basket of food and water. The moment my gloved hands pushed through the door it was like I stepped into another world.

I kicked off my boots, shook the damp from my jacket and took in one.

Deep.

Breath.

The dirt. The humidity. The warmth.

The heavy smells of rich greens and the softness of ripe fruits, my mouth instantly started watering as I tossed my gloves aside, plucked a carrot from the earth and brushed the dirt away before I chomped down.

"I told you last time that if you ate anything from my garden without askin' that I'd poison it all just to be safe." Aspen's voice echoed around the greenhouse as I inhaled carrot and started coughing like a lunatic.

The cough turned into a snort, then a laugh, until something hit me from above.

Hanging from the rungs of the tower, under the shield of the greenhouse was a fire headed girl—both in hair and spirit—that I knew far too well.

"Poison?" I laughed. "No way, you'd miss me too much."

"Miss you," she scoffed, "I think those curls are growing into your skull and making your brain all funny, Fernie. I'd miss your magic box though, and maybe your stories. But I'd never miss you."

Pulling back my hood and rubbing the back of my head, I squinted against the white glow to find her. Standing on a platform in the tower ten feet in the air was Aspen. Her green eyes full of mischief, a mix between a smirk and a frown on her face as she braided her long hair, hopping on one foot as she stared between me and the shoe she'd thrown.

"Was it worth it?" I asked, a cocky grin on my face as I threw her boot back.

"Well, it hit didn't it? If it hits you, Fernie, it's always worth it," she said as she slipped back into her shoe and started to climb, "Now hurry up, I don't want to miss anything!"

Without complaint—and a smile on my face—I followed her. The picnic basket tied to my hip and the radio slung around my back. Each rung was like a familiar place or a childhood home. My hands and feet found their marks without me even having to think. Together we'd climbed the tower hundreds of times; alone I'd climbed it thousands.

It didn't work, not like it used to. After the world fell a lot of things stopped working and there was no one left to fix them. The books said that in the old world it would have been so powerful it hummed. Like a dangerous song that could kill you with one touch.

Now we hung from it and raced to its top

Even with a head start I caught up in a matter of minutes. Now and then teasing her to hurry, and now and then her stepping on my fingers 'accidentally'.

I could tell we'd reached the peak when the wind froze my ears, Aspen pulling herself up to our usual nook, complete with a hanging bag stuffed with blankets for extra warmth. Without proper footholds we did what we always did, sat back to back and interlocked our legs in the rungs.

It wasn't comfortable, but Aspen's body was warm against mine and her fiery hair smelt of honey in the wind.

"What are you waiting for, Fernie? Do the magic," she said, wiggling her fingers as she leaned against me.

"As you wish, master." I teased, feeling her let out a huff of breath and a twitch in her leg like an instinct to kick me.

I grabbed the radio, setting it to the proper channel and listening to the static as we waited.

We didn't know what was left of the world. Everything I knew I'd learned from the books Osa brought back from me on her scavenging trips, but with civilization, with people, we didn't know what was left.

We knew that Seattle was the first to fall, and then everything else after that. Places with extreme climates could fight off the dead, but everywhere in between ... they didn't last long.

All that to say, we shouldn't have been able to pick up a signal.

From the coast of Sector 1 to the mountains of Sector 14 there were no major populations left and if my books had taught me anything it was that radio waves can only travel so far. 100 miles, it's all that technology and science would allow.

Whenever Aspen called it magic I tried not to laugh, because on some level I knew as much as she was wrong, she was also right.

Something magical did happen.

The standard AM radio wave could travel 100 miles by day.

But by night...

A signal could bounce off of the earth, like a trampoline jumping higher and higher to escape the cold left by the fleeting sun. As the sky turned black and blue and the cold took over 100 miles became 1000 miles and a signal travled farther than it ever could by day.

And we heard music,

I heard music.

I felt Aspen's breath quiet as the signal picked up and a bouncing tune broke through the static; I felt her warmth and her smile.

"How's your mom doing?" I asked, "Is she still sick?"

Through the popping hiss and garbled words Aspen mumbled, "Shut up and be quiet, I want to listen to the magic box."

We didn't know what was left of the world.

100 miles. 1000 miles. I wondered how far away they really were. The man, the people behind The Wave; the only radio station I could ever find.

But as the music played, and Aspen grabbed my hand, I stopped wondering. It didn't matter where the signal came from,

All that mattered was that our tower didn't feel so lonely anymore.

- - - - - - - -

Wow you made it this far! You deserve a cookie! Or how about a carrot? Because I think we're fresh out of cookies...

Anyway thanks for checking out the first offical chapter of The Wave! Truly hope you enjoyed it, and if your feelin' crazy, drop a comment, hit that pretty star and share away. Let's see if we can move this story further than 1000 miles.

Comment Johnny B. Goode if you've made it this far. Speaking of, I highly suggest you watch/listen to the video above to hear what I hear as Fernie's radio picks up the song and the camera pans away on two kids at the top of a radio tower on a dystopian Alaskan night <3

Thanks for again for reading!
Sincerely, the queen of the post-post-apocalypse.