EJ003X | audio | night 011

[littlemissfutility]

Hello?

[ The voice is whispery right now, but it still sounds young and female. Enough talk, and some of the vowels might sound just a touch southern. ]

Is there anybody out there? Dawn? Is Dawn here?

[ A pause. ]

If someone's out there, I need help. And if whoever's out there doesn't wanna help - I'm armed.

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[aluminumandash]

[ Hope he fucking likes you— ] Who? [ It's sharp. ]

[littlemissfutility]

Someone from home.

[salamanca]

This is "someone from home"... is he a person?

[littlemissfutility]

What else would he be?

[salamanca]

Whatever's up there isn't.

[littlemissfutility]

How do you know? No one got a good look at him.

[aluminumandash]

[ More focused, careful with the word: ] Family?

[littlemissfutility]

Yeah.

[aluminumandash]

[ Silence, though it doesn't last. His voice comes back thoughtful, subdued. ] I could give you a half dozen reasons why it ain't him, but why don't you give me yours first?

[littlemissfutility]

Because if anyone's gonna be holed up in a cabin, shooting at people, it's probably Daryl.

[aluminumandash]

He killed two people.

[littlemissfutility]

What happened?

[aluminumandash]

About a week ago, somebody took an arrow to the leg, then one to the throat. Four days back, different someone caught an arrow to the shoulder, stumbled into a well-made snare, then whoever this was [ —a pause as he searches for some better way to put it— ] shot him. With his own gun.

He said he'd do it slow next time.

[littlemissfutility]

[ There's a long pause. ]

That's not him.

[aluminumandash]

Yeah. [ Drawn-out, like he's working his mouth around it. ] Nobody's got their people here. Least not that they're saying.

He teach you to hunt?

[littlemissfutility]

Yeah.

[ Nobody's got their people here. It's cold comfort, but it's something. ]

It was just us for a while. [ Gentle, like she might be smiling on the other side of the walkie. ] He taught me how to shoot a crossbow, and...walking quiet. Stuff like that.

[aluminumandash]

I got somebody like that. [ He doesn't sound half so nostalgic about it. With a huff of air: ] Different kinda bow.

[ A pause. ] We ain't—it's just been the one guy up at the cabin, far as human threats go. [ For a given value of "human."

He's forced to add, a little hollowly: ] So far.

[littlemissfutility]

And just...normal stuff, for all the other threats? Like animals and getting enough water.

[ It's quiet here, not a single walker that she's seen. She can almost believe that there really aren't any, that the island's so remote and deserted that they never made it here.

Almost. After all, she's here. ]

[aluminumandash]

[ He's constrained to admit: ] The animals ain't exactly normal. [ But he already heard someone mention dinosaurs, so that topic's going unelaborated-upon unless she asks. ]

When the first group of us showed up, it triggered something. Ah, mechanized, automated. Flock of drones—like miniature helicopters, four foot—were sweeping parts of the island, snatching up whoever they found and dumping them in holding cells.

But those cells, it was all done by machine. No sign of people, and I mean no sign. Plumbing was in disrepair. Gotta figure whoever's behind it is long gone.

[littlemissfutility]

But that means there's electricity. If we find the generators -

[ Then bad plumbing doesn't matter, because they can fix it. ]

What's it look like, where you are?

[aluminumandash]

[ She's quick—in her thinking, in snatching at hope. He keeps pace. ] Solar, yeah. Hard to get at, though—wiring's baked in, everything bolted down.

[ A pause. ] Beach, right where the river meets the ocean. Kinda desolate, not much in the way of wildlife. Officer de Guzman's with me. [ He says it offhandedly: can't really do otherwise given the man's habit of wedging himself into every conversation known to man.

Maybe using his rank will be warning enough. ]