Page 83 of Primal Hunger

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Page 83 of Primal Hunger

I stare around at the familiar space, the place I’ve committed to memory over the last few days. I’ve searched through his belongings, gathered all the useful metal I could possibly use for an antenna.

Was there something I missed? Something I didn’t think of?

I stand in the middle of the room while Syros peruses his collection, opening boxes, rummaging through small piles, clinging to the faintest whisper of hope that he’ll find something useful. However, dread keeps me rooted to the spot, my feet feeling like lead. I can’t move, my mind spinning a thousand miles per hour, as I watch him.

When he finally stops and grunts approvingly, my eyes snap to him. He’s making his way back over, and I nearly laugh when he holds out a fork to me.

“Will this help?” he asks, and I stare down at the utensil.

“There’s only one way to find out.” I force a smile on my face, twirling the fork around in my fingers. It’s heavy, though I’m not sure what kind of metal it’s made out of, and I can bend the prongs in different directions to get a stronger signal.

It’s worth a shot.

It’s my only shot.

When we head back outside, it’s darker, the sky overhead nearly pitch black with a few pinpricks of light shining through.

Are those stars? I can’t help but wonder as he leads us back to the radio.

With numb fingers, I set to work again, using the extremely limited lighting to see while I work. I attach the fork, and Syros bends the prongs in strange angles according to my directions; the fork might as well be a bendy straw for how easily he manipulates it.

With the mess of metal and wires I’ve already assembled, this has to be enough.

I hold my breath and flip on the radio.

Instead of Tyler’s voice, I hear static, and my heart plummets.

Shit.

Did I make things worse instead of fixing it?

Twisting the dial, I run through the channels, listening as the static morphs into all different sounds. Music, static, muffled voices, more static… I stop on a channel that sounds otherworldly, a melodic, ethereal hum coming through. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard before, and makes me wonder if there are other worlds out there that I could also make a connection with.

Are there other monster realms? Aliens?

My heart lurches into my throat

“Tyler?” I call, going through the channels more slowly.

His voice fades in through the static, becoming clearer. I turn the dial again, searching for a new frequency.

“Tyler?”

The air around the antenna begins to vibrate, and I jump back when his voice comes through again. It’s so loud, so crystal clear, that it’s like he’s right next to me.

“I’m here, Erin. Can you hear me?”

A shaky exhale escapes me. “Yes, I can hear you.” The air shifts in front of me, almost like it’s trembling. Supercharged with invisible energy, twisty with a hazy image of something that isn’t really there.

It’s working.

“Holy shit,” I whisper under my breath, watching as the air shifts and pulsates before me. “Syros, it worked!” I squeal. “Do you see it?”

I look over at him, to his glowing red eyes, but he doesn’t respond. He’s watching me in silence, his shoulders sagged, skull tilted slightly toward the ground.

Unease turns my stomach. I hate seeing him like this, knowing I’m doing this to him. My heart squeezes in my chest.

“I think it’s going to work,” I say, turning my attention back to the radio. “At midnight, the signal will hopefully be strong enough for the portal to open. We just have to wait a little longer.”


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