The naturally formed rock was interspersed with the forms of carved out tables and benches. Most of the surfaces in the cavern were covered with oil and grease, along with the tools and trade items of what seems to be that of a mechanic. The floor was neat, if dirty, but the same could not be said for the walls. Pinned and taped up were numerous diagrams and blueprints for old-world designs that no longer were considered valuable, but instead a waste of good resources. Whoever’s place this was, however, it seemed that they still held some point of value, if not for functionality, then for the hopeful knowledge of possibly one day getting the opportunity to build these contraptions.
A lone radio sits on the far side of the room, away from the roughly carved archway entrance that opens up into the room where there sits a large table covered infrequently used tools. There it sits, a soft static playing over the waves. Nothing’s out there anymore it seems, but on it plays.
Nearby sits an odd contraption of wires and what seem to be sensors. For what, it is unsure. Connected to the radio, a chorus of quiet beeping follows in tune with the static. It’s looking for something.
Time passes, and the sensors start to respond to something. The lights flash green again and again, and the dials start to turn, responding to outside stimuli. The sounds of beeping crescendos until it is almost overwhelming, but still, no one is around to hear the first transmissions.
“Hello, my name is Oleander. We are stuck out here by the bay of Mexico. A mouth is closing around us, please help. If you hear this, please send any help you can spare. Please, please I promise this isn’t a trap. There are children here, please help us. If not the adults, please help them, get them out. Please. They are coming closer and we are running out of time. Please, we are trapped. Can anyone hear us? Please respond?”
A minute passes with no response, no steady hand to answer the pleas for help.
“I’m scared for them, please, I know that you are thinking of your survival and I understand, but we are out of ammo and out of gas. There’s nowhere to run, we are trapped and they will be here in a couple of days. The signs are there and we are right in the middle of their hunting grounds. If anyone could send a little help we would be eternally grateful. We would do anything, please please please.”
Nothing but static follows for a while, until one final, whispered transmission comes through.
“Oh gods, please, is there anyone alive out there?”
Fast breathing, thick with tears follows for a minute afterward, until the lights flash red once again and the sensors settle back into quiet beeping.