November 3rd, 2033
The base was popping today. More takeoff and landings than I cared to count and the transports rolled through the gates with greater frequency than they had in the past few days.
They’re definitely gearing up for something.
With their attention focused elsewhere, maybe the time is right for me to whip something up. What that might be I don’t know as of yet, but I’m working on it. Molotov cocktails are always an option and I still have a few pounds of C-4 left.
While my options may be limited, I’m not complaining. I’m still standing and I’m feeling stronger everyday. I have plenty to eat and I don’t have a collar around my neck, or shackles on my wrists.
November 3rd, 2033
I had an epiphany last night and I’m still trying to find the flaw in my reasoning.
Hear me out – back when the Threak invaded they set off a series of EMP blasts, electromagnetic pulses, bursts of energy that fried the circuits and transistors of virtually everything electrical. In an instant, cell phones fell silent, cars stopped running and radios went dead, commercial flights dropped from the skies and military planes sat helpless on the tarmac.
Our dependence on the silicon chip left us dead in the water.
But, I’ve been thinking, what about tubes? Tube radios. Good old-fashioned tube radios, built before the advent of the silicon chip. Surely, those would still work.
And, I know just where to look.
Down south along Interstate 5, on the north end of Santa Clarita there’s a recreational vehicle storage lot. Not a dealership, but a private storage facility where the public paid a monthly fee to store their large toys, i.e., boats, trailers and recreational vehicles. Hundreds and hundreds of RV’s lined up side by side, all years, makes and models, and, despite their differences, all have one thing in common, they’re all older than dirt. Some are even sixty to seventy years old.
There has to be a few of those old citizens band tube radios on the lot.
I’ll take a look in the morning.