My nightly chats with Azhar, or "Comet," became a ritual. His voice was this calm, steady island in the sea of static that was my life. We never talked about anything heavy. He didn't know my real name, and I didn't know his. We were just Comet and Sakura. We talked about how strange weather made signals bounce in weird ways. He explained that sometimes, on a clear night, the ionosphere could act like a giant mirror in the sky, letting our little CB signals skip over the horizon and land hundreds of miles away. It was the first time science had ever sounded like magic to me.
I started recognizing other voices, too. There was a gruff but kind-sounding old guy who called himself "Pathfinder," and a kid who sounded my age, "Breaker," who talked a mile a minute and was always bragging about how far his signal was reaching. They were the regulars, the nightly constellations in my new, noisy sky.
One evening, the sky decided to get noisy for real. A wicked thunderstorm blew in, the kind that shakes the windows. The rain was coming down in sheets. On the radio, it was chaos. The lightning was supercharging the airwaves. Signals were popping in from everywhere, loud and clear one second, then swallowed by a crash of static the next. I was just listening, curled up in my chair, when a new voice cut through the noise. It was a woman, and she was terrified.
"…anyone read me? This is Bluebird… car is stalled on Old Creek Road, and the water is rising! I can't get a cell signal!"
No cell signal.
The words hit me like a physical blow. My blood ran cold. It was happening again. Different person, different place, but the same deadly silence. My first instinct was to freeze, the memory of my own helplessness washing over me. But this time was different. I wasn't on a mountain. I was in my room. And I had a radio.
My hand shot out and grabbed the mic. My heart was a drum against my ribs. "Bluebird, this is Sakura, I read you! What is your location?" I tried to keep my voice as steady as Azhar's, faking a calm I definitely didn't feel.
"Oh, thank God!" Her relief was a tangible thing, even through the static. "Sakura! I'm on Old Creek Road, maybe two miles in from the bridge. The water's already over the hubcaps!"
Before I could reply, Azhar's voice sliced through the chaos, sharp and clear. "All stations, this is Comet. We have a possible emergency on this channel. Keep the frequency clear for Bluebird and Sakura."
Instantly, the other chatter died. It was amazing. One voice, one command, and a dozen strangers listened. Then, Pathfinder's deep rumble: "Comet, Pathfinder here. That road is a death trap in a flash flood. Someone needs to call 911 now."
"I'm on it!" I yelled to the room, already scrambling for the landline in the hall, leaving the mic keyed open. I relayed the information to the dispatcher, my voice shaking but clear.
I raced back to my desk. For the next half hour, the four of us—Comet, Pathfinder, Breaker, and me—we became Bluebird's lifeline. Azhar was the conductor, keeping her talking, asking questions to keep her calm. Gregory told a rambling story that made no sense but was weirdly comforting. Samuel even cracked a joke. And I was there, my voice weaving in and out, a part of the net we were casting through the air.
Finally, faint at first, then louder, we heard the sound of sirens through her transmission.
"I see them!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Oh, I see the lights! Thank you, all of you!"
We stayed on until we knew she was safe. Then, one by one, we signed off. I leaned back, my entire body humming with adrenaline. I hadn't just broken the silence. I had beaten it. We had beaten it.
Later, Azhar's voice came back on the now-quiet channel. "CQ Sakura, this is Comet."
"Go ahead, Comet," I said, a real smile on my face.
"You were great tonight, Sakura. A total natural," he said. "You know, this CB stuff is fun, but it's just the beginning. Ever heard of amateur radio?"
He told me about getting a license, about talking to the whole world, even astronauts. It sounded impossible, like something from a movie. It sounded like the exact opposite of being alone on a mountain with a useless phone.
"It's the real deal," he said. "It's how you make sure your voice can be heard when everything else goes silent. A guy I know, Pathfinder, he helps people get started. Interested?"
Was I interested? It felt like he was offering me the one superpower I wanted in the entire world.
"Yes," I said, the word coming out stronger than I expected. "Tell me everything."