September 7th, 2033
Bagman came back into camp this morning toting a small yellow AM/FM transistor radio he’d dug up along with one of his many “stash bags” he’d buried throughout the years.
Along with the radio, his bag contained another weeks worth of food and, more importantly, another few weeks worth of coffee.
A very resourceful man, he never ceases to amaze me.
The radio still works. The EMP blasts that killed all communications during the invasion hadn’t reached the transistors in Bagman’s buried relic and upon inserting a fresh nine-volt battery a familiar static filled the air.
Bagman worked the needle up and down the dial, but all we heard was static, but I have to tell you, static never sounded so good.
The possibility of communication still exists.