👉 Previous Decision: You reached the abandoned shortwave transmitter tower on High Ridge with Julian and Lily, or you initiated a hardwire broadcast from the studio.
Arthur, Julian, and Lily made their final stand inside the rusted, abandoned shortwave transmitter control room atop High Ridge. The geomagnetic storm raged, turning the sky a violent, pulsating purple. Static electricity crackled, making the hairs on Arthur’s arms stand on end.
Outside, the distant rumble of vehicles grew louder. Harlan O’Rourke and Uncle Silas had arrived, their jeeps fanning out, armed guards surrounding the facility. They were here to burn the building, to silence the truth before it could be broadcast.
Arthur, his hands trembling, connected Lily’s cassette reel to the high-voltage shortwave array. The archaic equipment, battered and neglected, seemed to thrum with a new, dangerous energy, drawing power directly from the storm-charged atmosphere.
Julian, grim-faced, moved to the main antenna tower. “I’ll manually hold the atmospheric ground wires together,” he shouted over the rising whine of the storm. “It’ll create a direct feedback loop. But if the surge is too strong…”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. They both knew the risks.
As Arthur secured the tape, his gaze fell on a rusted iron locker in the corner of the bunker room. A forgotten piece of military history. He pulled it open.
Inside, nestled beneath a stack of decaying canvas uniforms, was a small, wooden box. Arthur pulled it out, his fingers brushing against cold, hard metal.
It contained bloodied land deeds. Deeds for the properties of Clara Evans, Sarah Miller, Margaret Peterson. O’Rourke’s name, scrawled in faded ink, was on every one.
Wrapped around the deeds, stark against the dark wood, were military dog tags. Faded, tarnished silver. Arthur’s breath hitched. They were his father’s. Captain Thomas Pendelton.
The physical murder evidence. Tied directly to O’Rourke. Wrapped in his father’s legacy.
Arthur’s world spun. The hero he had idolized, the man whose honor he had fought to protect, was somehow intimately connected to this horror. He looked at Julian, who stood by the buzzing antennas, his face a mask of grim determination.
The truth was about to detonate.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 16 to continue the story
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