The atmosphere at Redwood Academy had shifted from the mundane to the electric. For Logan, Adison, Jamie, and Lyra, the walls of the school felt less like a place of learning and more like a cage holding them back from the truth. The discovery of a potential Morse code hidden within the digital static of the Aurora recorder had acted like a catalyst, turning their fear into a desperate, focused mission.
They moved as a pack, weaving through the crowded corridors during the transition between periods. Their destination was the gymnasium annex, the territory of the upperclassmen and the place where Bruce "Ace" Kane usually held court.
As they rounded the corner toward the athletic wing, they saw him. Bruce was leaning against a row of red lockers, his tall, athletic frame casting a long shadow. Standing in front of him was Suvi, Logan's older sister. They were lost in a conversation that looked far too intimate for Logan's comfort, their laughter echoing off the tiled walls.
Suvi spotted them first. Her expression shifted instantly from a warm smile to a protective scowl. "Hey! What do you guys want?" she snapped, stepping slightly in front of Bruce as if shielding him from a plague. "Why are you disturbing me during my free period? Go back to the middle school wing where you belong."
Jamie, never one to be intimidated by seniority or Suvi's sharp tongue, stepped forward with his chest puffed out. "Hey! Hey! Hey! Back off, Suvi. We didn't come here to talk to you. This is official business."
He pushed past her, heading straight for Bruce. The rest of the "Dead Frequency" team followed. Bruce looked down at them, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. He had always liked Logan's ragtag group of friends; they reminded him of his own unit back in his signal intelligence days—scrappy, smart, and perpetually in over their heads.
"What do you want, kids?" Bruce asked, his voice a deep, steady rumble.
"We aren't kids, Bruce," Jamie corrected, though he had to look quite far up to meet the man's eyes. "And we need help. Real help. It's a secret. Life or death kind of stuff."
Bruce's smile faded. He saw the genuine anxiety etched into Logan's face and the way Lyra was clutching her bag as if it contained a state secret. He looked at Suvi, then back at the group. "Alright. I'm listening."
"Not here," Logan whispered. "We need to go. Now."
Bruce checked his watch and nodded. "Fine. Lead the way."
As they started to move, Suvi stepped into their path, her hands on her hips. "Where do you think you're taking him? Where are you going?"
"It's a secret, Suvi," Logan said, trying to sidestep her. "I don't want to bring an outsider into this."
Suvi's eyes flashed with indignation. "An outsider? Logan, he's my boyfriend! If you're taking him somewhere, I need to know the details."
A heavy silence fell over the group. Jamie's jaw dropped. Lyra blinked in surprise. Logan looked at Bruce, his eyes wide with betrayal. "Hey, Bruce... is this real? Are you actually dating my sister?"
Bruce rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically embarrassed. He gave a slow, guilty nod. The team let out a collective, weary sigh.
"Great," Lyra muttered. "Now the family drama is part of the mission. Look, Bruce, it's important. We'll meet you at the back entrance at 4:30, after the final bell. We need you to come with us."
Suvi sighed but relented, giving Bruce a small nod. "Fine. But if he's not back by dinner, Logan, I'm telling Mom you stole the silver recorder."
The Great Escape
The plan changed the moment they realized 4:30 was too late. The sun was already beginning to hang lower in the sky, and every second they spent in a classroom felt like a second closer to a disaster they didn't yet understand.
"We're leaving now," Lyra declared as they huddled by the gym's equipment room.
"Leaving?" Bruce asked, his voice rising in alarm. "What are you saying? Cutting school in the middle of the day is a one-way ticket to detention, kids. It's against the rules."
"Don't talk like an old man, Bruce," Logan said, pulling on the man's sleeve. "The rules don't matter if the 'System Overlap' happens while we're sitting in Algebra."
They turned on the charm—four pairs of wide, pleading eyes and a series of frantic explanations about frequencies and shadows. Bruce, despite his military discipline, had a soft spot for the underdog. He looked at the window, then at the door, and finally threw his hands up in defeat.
"Alright, fine. But if I get banned from the gym for this, I'm holding you all personally responsible."
They made their way to the far eastern wall of the campus, where the brickwork was old and partially covered in thick ivy. One by one, they scrambled up the stones. Logan went first, followed by a surprisingly agile Adison. Lyra climbed with a grim determination, and Jamie provided a boost for the others before hauling himself up.
Then came Bruce. The sight of a grown man, a local basketball legend, trying to stealthily climb a school wall was almost comical. Just as he reached the top, a sharp voice rang out from the faculty parking lot.
"Hey! Stop right there! What are you doing?"
It was Mr. Henderson, the vice-principal. He squinted through his glasses, his eyes widening as they landed on the man perched precariously on the ledge. "Bruce? Bruce Kane? What on earth are you doing with those students?"
Bruce froze for a heartbeat, a look of pure, childlike panic crossing his face. "Sorry, sir! Please forgive me! Emergency... basketball... business!"
He didn't wait for a response. He vaulted over the wall, landing with a heavy thud on the other side. "Run!" he hissed, and the five of them took off like a shot, sprinting through the woods toward the hidden bike rack where they had stashed their transportation.
The Road to the Basement
They reached the clearing, gasping for air. The wind was picking up, turning the autumn leaves into a swirling kaleidoscope of orange and gold.
"Where am I supposed to sit?" Bruce asked, looking at the four bicycles. He was nearly twice the size of the tallest bike.
Jamie didn't hesitate. He handed his handlebars to Bruce. "You ride mine. I'll sit on the back of Adison's."
"Why is Logan sitting on my back?" Bruce asked as Logan hopped onto the small luggage rack of Jamie's bike. "Why doesn't he sit with the girl?"
Lyra's head snapped toward him, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "My name is not 'the girl.' My name is Lyra. And I don't let anyone ride on my bike. It affects the center of gravity and ruins the alignment."
Bruce raised his hands in a silent apology. "Right. Sorry. Lyra. Let's go."
They pedaled through the winding streets of Redwood Town. It was a beautiful, haunting afternoon. The chill in the air was sharp, and the sound of their tires over the fallen leaves was the only noise in the quiet suburbs. They looked like a typical group of kids out for a ride, save for the massive man struggling to keep his knees from hitting his chin as he pedaled a bicycle built for a teenager.
They stopped at a modest, two-story house on the edge of the district—Adison's home. Adison led them to the front door and rang the bell.
The door swung open to reveal Mrs. Marlin, the biology teacher from earlier. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head as she saw her son standing there with a fugitive basketball star and his bruised friends.
"Adison? What are you—why aren't you in school?"
Jamie, ever the diplomat, stepped forward. He reached into a nearby flowerbed, plucked a slightly wilted blue lily, and presented it to her with a flourish. "Hello, Mrs. Marlin. You look radiant today. Please, excuse the intrusion."
Before she could process the flower or the compliment, the group surged past her into the hallway.
"Mom, we're here for something serious!" Adison shouted over his shoulder. "We asked permission! Sort of! It's for science!"
Mrs. Marlin stood in the doorway, clutching the blue lily, watching in stunned silence as Bruce Kane gave her a sheepish "Hi" before following the kids down the narrow stairs into the basement.
The Laboratory of Secrets
Adison's basement was a sanctuary of wood-paneled walls and overflowing bookshelves. It smelled of ozone, solder, and old carpet. Tables were cluttered with dismantled radios, soldering irons, and a complex array of signal processors that the "Dead Frequency" team had modified over the years.
"How did Jamie get those flowers so fast?" Bruce whispered to Logan as they descended.
Logan sighed. "That's just Jamie, Bruce. You don't want to know where he gets half the stuff he has. He tried to use those same moves to flirt with Suvi last summer. It went about as well as you'd expect—straight into the trash."
They both shared a quiet laugh, but it was cut short as Jamie turned around, his expression stern. "I can hear you. Don't mention the Suvi incident again. I was young and foolish. Now, let's get to work."
The group circled the main workbench. The mood shifted instantly, the humor of the "Great Escape" replaced by a heavy, clinical focus.
"Alright, Ace," Lyra said, her voice turning sharp and professional. "You wanted to know why we brought you here. Logan, show him."
Logan pulled the silver recorder from his pocket and set it on the desk. He explained the entire history—the Aurora Engine, the 11.3-second interval, and the suspicious "noise" behind the static.
Bruce listened, his expression growing more grim with every word. "You really stole a secret recording from Sheriff Briggs? Logan, he's your uncle. If the feds find out you have this, 'detention' is going to be the least of your worries."
"He didn't steal it, Bruce," Logan defended. "He trusted me with it. Briefly. And I'm not letting that trust go to waste."
"Stop the chatter," Lyra commanded. "Let's focus on the signal."
She flipped a switch on a custom-built machine they called the "Frequency Decelerator." It was a mess of wires and knobs designed to strip away the high-frequency "hiss" of electronic interference.
The sound filled the basement. Bzzzzzz... ssss...
"It's too thick," Bruce noted, leaning his ear toward the speaker. "The thermal noise from the engine failure is masking the physical taps. It's like trying to hear a heartbeat inside a jet engine."
Lyra began to turn the dials. "I'm dropping the carrier wave... now."
The buzzing faded into a low, ghostly hum. And then, it emerged. Clearer than ever before.
Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.
Bruce's body went rigid. His eyes glazed over, his mind retreating into the specialized training he had received years ago. He pulled a notepad toward him and gripped a pencil.
"Play it again," he whispered. "Slow it down another ten percent."
Lyra complied. The room was so silent you could hear the dust motes dancing in the light of the workbench lamp. Bruce's pencil began to fly across the paper.
"H... E... L... L... O..." Bruce muttered as he transcribed.
His hand shook slightly as the message began to form. He wasn't just hearing taps; he was hearing a voice from the void. The rhythm was frantic, desperate, and filled with a terror that transcended the digital medium.
After ten minutes of painstaking translation, Bruce dropped the pencil. He looked at the paper, his face ashen.
"Read it, Bruce," Logan whispered.
Bruce cleared his throat, his voice trembling. "It's a letter. A log entry."
"Hello everyone... my name is Dr. Howard Reeves. I am a lead scientist in the Redwood City Laboratory. I am in a serious situation. I am stuck in a place... a place where it is not Earth. The sky is the wrong color. The physics are... they're broken."
The team leaned in, their breathing shallow.
"There are things here. Creatures. They move like shadows but they have weight. They are trying to kill me. They are trying to eat the light. And they are looking for the way back. They are coming to Earth."
Bruce paused, wiping sweat from his brow. "The taps get faster here. He's panicking."
"It is very dangerous. They are going to kill everyone. They don't want land; they want the frequency. If you are hearing this, please... anyone... help me. Shut down the cores. Close the gate. They see me. They're right outside the—"
The tapping turned into a chaotic, violent scratching sound—the sound of something being torn away.
"The creatures are trying to come to Earth. Be careful. Be—"
The recording ended with the same two words they had heard before. Be careful.
The basement was silent. The "Dead Frequency" team looked at each other, the reality of their situation finally sinking in. It wasn't just about a machine failing or a town being haunted. It was an invasion from a place where light went to die.
"Howard Reeves," Adison whispered, pulling up a search on his laptop. "He was reported missing during the first Aurora test ten years ago. They said it was a lab fire. They said he was vaporized."
"He wasn't vaporized," Logan said, his voice cold. "He was pushed through. And now, something else is trying to use his path to come back."
Bruce stood up, the chair creaking under his weight. He looked at the kids—no, he looked at his fellow soldiers. "We need to get to that school basement. If Dr. Reeves is right, the 'System Overlap' isn't just two worlds touching. It's a door being kicked open."
The wind outside howled, rattling the basement windows. For a split second, the shadows in the corner of the room seemed to stretch, reaching toward the silver recorder on the desk.
The countdown wasn't just for a meeting or an expo. It was for the survival of Redwood Falls.