256 - Two Hundred Fifty Six

Breaker Whiskey

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[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static]

Okay, we…we found it. We actually found it.

How does this…how does this work? I mean, it sure seems like you were here, once, given the sheer volume of radios and…other equipment that I haven’t even begun to figure out yet. I think there’s some recording stuff, which is helpful—I wonder if I can figure out a way to rig it so that it can listen to every frequency and record whenever it detects a message.

That sounds way beyond my capabilities and maybe impossible. But at the very least, I am going to spend some time testing everything out. And overall, it seems like a pretty good hideout—it’s a lot more spacious than it looks from the ground, and I bet the signal and transmission reach is amazing. There’s nothing in the way of supplies, really, but we passed a town a while back and there’s a visitor’s center a little further down the mountain from here, so I think we’ll be set for a while as long as I keep the car in good working order.

There are two beds here—did you have a friend with you once? Was it Fox? Or did you somehow supply this place for us. It’s…well, it’s covered in dust. But everything in this world is covered in dust.

But you’re…you’re not here. I’m not sure I really expected you to be, or at least, I tried not to, but I’m still disappointed. I still hoped…

You were here once though, weren’t you? This is where you…where you listened to all the other timelines? Where you communicated with whoever it is you communicate with? Where are you now? Another timeline? The right one? Or somewhere else entirely, somewhere in between?

I assume…I mean, there is a visitor’s center. I assume that this was an active fire watch tower before. I’ve taken a few photos and everything looks pretty much the same in them, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone there but…I don’t know.

Shockingly, Harry was pretty gracious about the fact that she’s been proven wrong—that you seemed to have led us to a good place, a useful place. She admitted she was wrong, something that is still all too rare. And she told me—she said she still doesn’t trust you, but she trusts me, and that’s enough.

Is that trust enough for me? Is that trust worth anything? What else is she going to do but trust me? What else could I do but trust you? Is trust less valuable when it’s forced by circumstance? Or does that just make it more honest?

Now that we’re here…what do we do? I’m glad to be safe, to be out of Fox’s view, but you promised me answers.

[click, static]

[beeps]

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Our date. Message will repeat.