Chapter 4 - The Static Signal
The tiny, high-pitched crackle of static sounded like a massive gunshot to Owen’s hyper-alert senses.
He instantly looked down at Caleb. The seven-year-old boy was reaching into the pocket of his tiny black suit trousers. Caleb pulled out a small, cheap plastic walkie-talkie—a toy he and his mother used to play with around the house when she was working in her home office.
Owen had completely forgotten the boy brought it to the funeral.
The toy radio crackled again, cutting through the cold, heavy cemetery air.
"Caleb..." a weak, breathless, incredibly familiar voice whispered through the cheap plastic speaker. "Owen... are you there?"
Owen’s heart violently stopped in his chest. The air in his lungs turned to absolute ice.
It was Clara.
She was alive. She was somewhere nearby, broadcasting on a toy frequency that only had a range of a few hundred yards. Caleb hadn't imagined her voice in the wind; he had literally heard her calling him on the radio.
Tears of pure, unadulterated, overwhelming relief flooded Owen’s eyes, but he didn't dare smile. He knew that if Chief Miller saw a single ounce of joy on his face, the corrupt police chief would realize the assassination had failed and slaughter them right there on the grass.
Owen snatched the walkie-talkie from Caleb’s hand, hiding it entirely inside his own large palm.
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"I'm here, baby," Owen whispered flawlessly into the radio, pretending to wipe tears from his face to hide his moving lips. "Where are you?"
👉 What terrifying hiding spot will the desperate wife reveal?
