The Emergency Calls That Held Back the Tide on Darlsey Island

0:00What does it actually take to rent a remote lodge in the Amazon or guide travelers across Antarctica? On the Adventure Life Travel Show, host Jason Maynard sits down with the expedition leaders, lodge owners, and trip planners who make adventure travel happen, the real stories behind the destinations. New conversations every month packed with insight you won't find in a brochure. Search Adventure Life Travel Show on iHeartRadio and start listening today. This is Matt Rogers from Lost Cultures, thus with Matt Rogers and Bowen Yang. This is Bowen Yang from Lost Cultures, thus Matt Rogers and Bowen Yang. You know when people try a new food and suddenly it's like, okay, hold on, I got a new favorite food! That's the reaction a lot of people are having when they first try Cupid Mayon. Yeah, it's the one with the red cap and the little baby on the bottle. You've probably seen it at the grocery store. And this mayo is different. Mm-hmm. Most mayonnaise uses whole eggs. Cupid only uses egg yolks, which gives it this rich umami flavor. It's smoother, deeper, almost buttery. Once people try it, they start putting it on everything.

1:03Egg sandwiches, fries, burgers, chefs use it, restaurants use it, people who really care about flavor use it, put it on just about anything. Then you'll understand. Cupid, the original Japanese mayonnaise. Night shifts have done strange things to my memory. Every light in the despot center feels harsh at past 2 a.m. as though fluorescent tubes were set to daylight from some other world's sun. The Hama monitors and the low course of radio interference builds up, whispering beneath the edge of hearing, until even the silence after a 911 call rings were phantom static. I keep telling myself the voices on the line are real people, nut ghosts. Most emergencies drift in on types of boredom-stalled cars, burn-toath, the occasional burst appendix from one of the old timers on the islands. I log their details trip of check my times, listen for any clue beneath what said that might mean someone's hiding what they really need. Maybe that's why I'm still good at this, despite the insomnia and what my supervisor calls afraid emotional responses. You get too used to being the last voice someone hears before the

2:03dot closes in. It was halfway to a mug of black coffee I'd reheated for the third time when the line lit up with the code for Dalcy Island. The call display blinked, unknown possible child. No ambient background, but a short breath on the other end. Static. Then. Help, can you hear me? The kid's voice was thin, thirded with panic, the vowel sound stretched with salt air. That's what hit me before I even caught his name this was someone living right up against the wind and tide. Then some neck amine that kind of wild isolation because I chased it once. The fausseridide. Before sleep stopped coming. I'm here I said, what's your name? He hesitated as the listening for another voice in the room then, Jamie, Jamie Harker. His words rushed out, tripping over each other, barely more than a whisper. My dad's gone, not he's not in the house, all the lights are out and the dog started howling, the sea started up. I don't know what it's doing. I punched up Dalcy Island on my steth's monitor, so I dined a map called Blue Circle. A tidal island accessible only at low tide, otherwise completely isolated, population 23 in

3:06shrinking. I caught maybe three calls from Dalcy in the last year, all routine stuff. Tonight, every channel was already jittering with wind advisories and warnings for unusually high tides off the west coast. Out here, fierce weather and stories go together. The hush on Jamie's line was unnatural. You said the sea started up? His breath caught. There's light out on the water, he stammered. Not boat, shapes, moving slow. The dog started running, and now, some things in the wind, not a sounded. He choked. A thump echoed behind him, dull as a distant drum. When children call and panic, there's always a hesitation you don't want to believe what they're seeing. But Jamie's voice had that edge, the kind of genuine terror you can't fake for long. Jamie slowed down, is your mother there? She's gone too. His whispers scratched in my earpiece. All the neighbors say to keep quiet, but they're sold water running up the cliffs, I saw it on the stairs. I could fill the skin, tightening on my neck. Behind his words, dogs started howling in rugged chorus, somewhere near and far, a wall of animal panic layered against the house. Stay on the line,

4:08the protocol surfacing through adrenaline. I'm sending help. But as I turned patched through to Coast Guard and Regional Police, the computer squawked. The tides had already cut off the causeway, first responders were stranded miles away, the channel described as impassable and rising. The sea was almost fighting the boats, swells pushing even the largest risky craft back toward rocks half a mile out. Back to the line. Jamie's teeth were chattering. Do you hear them? They're coming up the steps now, the voices that can hear them in the wind. They're saying, a sharp, shrieky sound drowned him out for a second feedback, or Jamie dropping the phone, scraping illong floorboards. The coal nearly dropped, lines flickering between connection and a hundred-year-old static. Jamie, breathe, and still here, sits almost safe if you can, away from the doors and windows, help us coming as soon as the causeway is clear. Listen, what do the lights look like? He drew a hiccuping breath, composing himself with child's desperation. Shapes, straight lines that bend across each other, like the old lights at the radio tower, only they move under the water, like fish, but they're brighter. My dad said no one's supposed to watch them. They draw you out. First shiver struck my arms. The radio array towers,

5:12an old legacy from the war, decommissioned, left to rust him on the goss and sea mist. On Darcy, every object is older than it looks, scratched with stories the islanders never tell. That much, I believed. I pressed his call under high priority, watching my message pins drop straight into the queue from eachable. No one could break through. Jamie, listen carefully, I'm staying with you as long as I can. If someone comes banging, don't respond, try to barricade yourself, who else is there with you? Nobody, Ruth my sister she ran to the church, she said that's where everyone goes when it gets bad, but I don't trust them, they lock the doors. The windscreen up against Jamie's phone. No electronic filter could hide the old, animal fear in his voice. The sense that this wasn't his first strange night. I murmured something soft, somehow remembered chat from my own childhood, and he calmed it firmly slightly. But I could feel the distance, more solid than any length of what's stone. I was a voice in the dark, just out of reach, straining to anchor someone whose whole world was washing away. The line juddled. Don't leave, Jamie pleaded, almost to himself. If you stop listening, it finds you faster,

6:14that's what they say. And the connection fractured, the dispatchers curse, hearing a child's tear off ridding away across the black water, unable to do a god-of-thing. I called and coast guard again, my hands shaking. Command was already overwhelmed with dozens of reports. Fisherman's boat, Siangolies from their murings, fallen exchanges flickering with interference, poweserges across the grid. Only Dolcey's lines, isolated and primitive, could sometimes sneak through when the rhythms behaved in persazze the right ways. I tried the general island line. It clicked over to a woman's voice, composed even through the static. Lee Nashby. I remembered her name Dolcey's matriarch, if you believe gossip. Hatoon had the clipped assurance of someone used to shutting outsiders out. There's no need to trouble yourselves, she said. A second voice quieter, remembered something behind her. Young Jamie's prone to fancies were handling everything, nothing wrong here, the ties just showing off. With Sessa Nashby, those mention of people missing unusual lights. She cut me off, was flat and cold. We don't welcome interference, some things are best left to the locals to discipline, if helps needed, we'll call again.

7:15Before I could press further, she hung up, and the silence snapped back with twice the force. Switching again, I wrote a chief purchase number from the duty-roster, after three rings the chief answered, for his half asleep but threaded with irritation. The spatcher, he grumbled, if you're calling about lights or children making noise, it's nothing, this island's got old power lines, and kids are always making up ghost stories, save your resources for real emergencies. I relay Jamie's panic, describe the unrelenting ties, the lights, the rise in confusion, but pretty much only grew more defensive. It's a storm, we used the storms, we make our own way out here, tell the coasties to let the sea do what it will. There was a record scratch quality to his abruptus, and need to be left alone at bordered on desperation. When I mention the harkers by name, something aggressive flash beneath his tone. They've always been outsiders themselves, don't you ghost daring up fears that'll pass by dawn. Before I could argue, his end of the line dim, but the pressure on my chest remained. Prostration warded with protocol. My own reach was brutally limited. Every call escalated the dread, Darcy, swamped by enormous tides, its people

8:17refusing lifelines. I stayed rooted in my booth, thumb pressed hard into the death gauge, gays strained to the bank of silent monitors where the digital map flickered each home a cold blue icon amid grey. Then Jamie called again, whispering, they're knocking now, from underneath the boards, it's the same as last year, neither the dogs nor roof believe me then, but I hear them every time the water gets close enough, something starts tapping, counting, I can see the saltwater through the cracks that's not supposed to reach this height. His words scratched my ear drum like broken branches. Suddenly all the background dogs fell silent up once. The hash was as complete as a shut door. The connection rattled, my own reflection in the monitor scene pale, distant, my station chair bolted to the world only by the lines I managed to keep open. Suddenly, another call arrived, patched urgently through, a distant, trembling shout, fire at the array, someone said the tower light. But then seconds an older woman picked up a different line, voice steady as ice, insisting, there is no fire, dear, see for yourself, all's calm as the grave, can't people just keep their heads. It wasn't possible for both calls to be true. I tried making sense of it,

9:18reviewing the status the array was too far from most houses for anyone to confuse a local panic with an actual blaze. The dispatches nightmare simultaneous emergencies, each undermining the other. The lines flickered. Now, three different colors. One wept about missing sheep, the flock could simply gone, vanished from the pence. Another spoke of hazards in the road, then recanted, apologising for troubling me. The grainy undertow in their voices it was as though Darcy herself was deciding which emergency would be believed. But, near that all, Jamie's voice, dead ear now, dreamy at hollow. Sometimes, a water puts hideys in your head, sometimes, I think this he wants us just to listen, other times, he broke off. Then, in a child's ancient voice, they say if you listen too long, you stop knowing whose voices who's. I realise, with an oscillating twist, the emergence logs from the last few nights fallen to chain I hadn't noticed short, nearly identical calls, power flashes, livestock escapes, missing people found a day later with stories they didn't remember telling. Each entry, if you looked at the times and voices, repeated certain phrases

10:19sometimes in a child's accent, sometimes elderly. The light runs under the waves now, they don't open the door for the sea, they bring shelter, bring salt. Always just far enough apart not to trip your arm. As I chase the threads, Lena has to be called again to move the apologetic. A dispatcher, there's a limit to how many times we can have this conversation, the children here are easily threatened, neither best handled with trust, not panic please refrain from contacting further households, it only adds to our burden. Her accents move that the threat there was a warning in her gentility. Behind her, a younger voice, female, sharper, if anything happens to Jamie, it's your during. The scuffle muffled whispering. Lena came back, dismissive. He see what trouble you make kindly, let us keep our peace. Second guessing per call, I put Lena on hold to connect again with Ruth, Jamie's sister, via SMS. Only two sentences came through before her signal degraded, church locked families inside, outside wrong watch for lines and puddles don't let them touch you. Jamie's call snapped back in, his words devolving into broken code.

11:19There's writing in the wet, now the shades make words, but they're not in English. Dad said sometimes, you read a word by looking away, I think. His force grew faint, a wavering sigil against the cut off asleep. I hear breathing in the yard, I think they're all out there. The sense of helplessness was fused to every key I tapped. I was losing the order of events, mixing times, forgetting who'd said what. At one point, a panic religious war-reliased grey was torching the radio array a minute later, another caller described to liars bedred in with fever. Two different households, both certain, both polite in their contradiction as if the island itself delighted and so in confusion. The logs became a chaos of repeated phrases, recurring surnames, blurred details, each time stamped it intervals that made no sense. I scrolled back by data only to find one caller's pattern repeated two nights in a row at the same minute. Different emergencies, identical cadence. By the time Jamie managed to final call, his words had become slippery, everything telescoping into a single. Real value shows up in reliability, you don't have to second guess. Like a set of firestone all-season tires, they're designed to deliver confidence

12:25inspiring wet weather traction and a quieter ride, no matter the road, season after season. Firestone all-season tires, for durability you can count on, just like people count on you. Firestone, always dependable since 1900. Imagine standing beside a glacier, swimming with turtles in the Galapagos Islands or being invited to dinner in a remote village that few travelers ever see. Adventure life specializes in custom journeys and small chakrisis that bring you closer to nature, local cultures and unforgettable experiences around the world. Work one-on-one with a trip planner who uses firsthand travel experience to tailor make your trip around your interests, travel style, and budget. Visit adventurelife.com today to begin your next adventure. This is Matt Rodgers from Los Cultures, thus with Matt Rodgers and Bowen Yang. This is Bowen Yang from Los Cultures, thus Matt Rodgers and Bowen Yang. You know when people try a new food and suddenly it's like, wait, that's the reaction. A lot of people are having when they first try QB mayo. It's the one with

13:31the red cap and the little baby on the bottle, you've probably seen it in the grocery store before. And if you've ever just walked past it, some people would say that's a huge mistake because this mayo is different. Most mayonnaise uses whole eggs. QB only uses egg yolks, which gives it this rich umami flavor. It's smoother, deeper, and almost buttery. Once people try it, they start putting it on everything. Egg sandwiches, fries, burgers, some fans even swear by dipping pizza crust in it. And once you notice it, you start seeing it everywhere. Chefs use it, restaurants use it, people who really care about flavor use it. Never try it, grab the bottle with the red cap next time you're out of the store. Put it on just about anything, then you'll understand. QB, the original Japanese mayonnaise. Image, the saltwater in the gaps of the floor, not dripping but rising. The knocking's joined by whispering now. Ruth said if it gets too loud, close your eyes and wait, but I just feel cold, something's waiting for us all. This, then, was the new shape of dread. The island was musiny against help. The ceaseless arguments between their own stories, the shifting details I could not decode. I realized my hands gripping the table edge I was being pulled into their pattern,

14:36both left eye and unwanted trisperser. The rules I'd enforce on countless other night shifts were crumbling. Dalcy wanted only its own voice heard. A faint beep system all out. Central phone exchange shutter, timecode slipping. First but second, I was patched into two lines simultaneously, one was Jamie, still whispering. The other my own voice, echoing with a slight delay, repeating, are you there? Can you hear me? The words nagged my own accent and rhythm yet the background was rain I hadn't heard, an emergency room I'd never seen. I canceled the connection with shaking hands. System diagnostics flare. I'd crack something open the locks bat out decades old messages truncated but chilling. Rainy pledges for help repeating the same family names ASPy Hacker, grey, pricked emergencies that never registered on island incident reports. These weren't just echoes. They were in prints, left behind by whatever pass for disaster in Dalcy. A sideline call blinked urgently, Malcolm Seer. On the ruster he was listed as retired communications Dalcy array. Now living mainland. He'd picked up the thread from social media chatter about strange calls from

15:39the island. Listen, you're talking to Malcolm Seer, don't say my name on air. I heard the pattern again tonight, it's the drums, isn't the counting. Did Jamie mention the lines in water, he was never supposed to have to do the talk. Old packs failing, you're not just hearing emergencies, these are the rehearsals. They keep things contained. I pressed him. rehearsals. In the old days, we pretend stage an incident, act out the emergencies, reassure people then, after the tide, everything resets, but if the wrong voice calls through with a stranger answers instead of one of us, well, anything can happen. A cult's certainty sank into me. Why? There was rustling in his background of old papers, a clock ticking too quickly. The array was built in the old cracks that was supposed to keep the lines open, but every so often, Dalcy is asked for payment if the performance is good enough if the rehearsals keep to the script then nothing breaks loose, but if not, he trailed off oughta be swallowing. If not, people disappear and the sea comes further in. My skin percoled cold crawling from the inside. As it happened before, the records never agree and I'm the last one from the old teen that remembers you, though you're new, if you're part of it now, like it or not. As we

16:42spoke, Jamie's line faded and returned. This time, his voice was flat, almost rehearsed. It's my turn now. I'm sorry if I messed up the pattern. They say every time we tried to warn someone, it cost more, I'm supposed to stay quiet. Don't worry about me, just help my sister. A spirit was to my gut. Jamie, I'll stay with you. I swear. There's a way out. What do you have to do? He only said, pay the price. The call dropped. My hands were shaking so hard I triggered the emergency lock on a console. A dead calm wash through the dispatch room. For a moment, the only sound was my own breath thick with exhaustion and fear. Pushing protocol aside, I turned to the Occav locks. Within 15 minutes, Malcolm sent a batch of scammed scammed pages aged, handwritten and stamped, Darcy Island Security 1952. The document, in uneven script listed the name's Ashby, Grey Harker Pritchard. At the bottom was a signature written, witnessed unknown delegate. The pages detailed, annual rehearsals at the edge of the event, emergency to be practiced according to the agreed upon sequence for a house will must be convincing payment may be substituted only upon failure of performance. My head spun. Emergency to be practiced. I blinked

17:48at the script. Had every call tonight been performative? Or was I even dropping on something old, breaking loose now because I'd listen wrong? A flood of recollections, Jamie counting nox, Ruth warning about puddles, lean and threatening me to stay away. Most of all, the shifting stories fires and no fires, sickness in one house and two, missing people replaced by near doubles. Desperate I reached for Ruth. This time voice only. She hissed through tears. I know you're not allowed to help us really, but I can tell you everyone in my family has been taught how to do the drill. You say the prayers if you hear the wind change direction. Bring food down to the typel. Never ever answer if you hear knocking or your own name said in a dark. My mother says it's rehearsal. But last time, Mrs. Crackett never came back and everyone acted like she'd never lived here. I wanted to comfort her, tell her the world at side Darcy didn't run on performance and forgetting. But Ruth was crying. I hid in the old radio shed. I can see people with lanterns, musks made of paper and shells. They're dragging reads up to their array. I think it's because Jamie talked to you. It's different now. Does that mean we're already lost? Wind whipped her words thin, cutting the call. I stumbled back to the

18:51main lines only to hear Lena's voice flat as stone. You're making things worse trust in the drill. This is nothing to do with you. But I wasn't about to step away now. Something was running underneath the routine, something even the villagers feared. The performances were breaking down. Jamie's line rang in, his voice spectral. They're fighting at the array now. Some don't remember why they're doing it. They argue, then forget mid-sentence the lights under the water come and go. They make paths, sometimes maps. I think someone's supposed to walk them, but there are always mistakes. The phonery began to hiss on the dispatcher's end. For a brief, heart-stopping second, my monitor's stuttered, a ripple crossing the whole system. Then, a string of fragment surfaced, decades old calls, overlapping scramble voices mind-among them pleading through static. Malcolm's voice again, nearly swallowed by time. You mustn't let the wrong voice carry. Never close out a call before they're done whatever you do, or it'll use your signal. The name's cycled in the logs ash be, harker. Create every family burying the way, each making payment in some distinct horrifying fashion. Jamie's voice was the last, a thin echo through dead lines.

19:52It's almost time. Thank you, at least, for not hanging up. The central exchange crashed. Dossi Islands, I can no-my monitor flick from blue to gray. The other calls evaporated, as if someone had swept wetting from parchment. I saffrosan, hands hovering over cold keys, staring into a silent screen. Around me, the hum of the dispatch center resumed in normal emergencies traffic accidents, routine 900-eleven's all unchanged, all impossibly unaware. But I was no longer just a voice at the end of the line. The world had shifted slightly, horribly, and something far from resolve waded across the water, listening, counting down to its next rehearsal is next disaster. The only sound in my ears was my own voice, echoing in ghostly playback from some alt, long forgotten tape, are you there? Can you hear me? Are you there? Can you hear me? I sat there, paralyzed by that recorded echo, my own words boomeranging through decades to knee with loss in something else resignation. I could taste copper in my mouth. Every dispatch, green-glaed, refusing to show the one thing I needed, a throed back to Dossi. Only the clock stuttered on, it's rhythm out of joint. I fumbled for my coffee gun cold bitter as

20:56you'd. Footstep's echoed from the corridor, but no one entered. Just another patrol on Midnight Runs, maybe. On another night, I might have been comforted by the leaving hum of the rest of the world. But tonight, the edges of the room felt porous. I kept expecting the walls to ripple just as, on the logs, every account from Dossi's call has begun to blow its sentences pleading between speakers, sometimes spliced by the system, sometimes by whatever forted on the lines since before I was born. Pro call nod at me, I was supposed to debrief, document hand off, and wipe my mind. Instead, I reread Malcolm's scan pages as it doesn't hide in each pass revealing a twist and sentence structure, a word that hadn't been there before. Edge of the event, a substitution of payment, phrases so clinical they almost date with secrecy. It was a language of consequence behind performance, a village hiding center's old wounds beneath misunderstood rituals. Appearsing alert, pop one of our regional weather fees, red lighting with rapidly shift in tight heights. The numbers made no sense, the readings surge for a book prediction, up past the high tide watermark of the century. Flood warning sought her triggerable my own system, trying to crawl their

21:59way to Dossi through the crippled connections. With a shaky hand, I dialed the old maintenance frequency Malcolm's number. To my surprise, he answered on the first ring, even before my system could fully patch through. Did you see the measurements? His voice sounded less tired, more edged, as if he too sensed that this night was no longer just a rehearsal. I've lost Dossi, a confessed. Lion's Dark, old logs leaking into the real time feed, I keep hearing my own words I couldn't cause I never made. That's how you know it's failing, Malcolm said grimly. The cycle can hold, when the pap breaks, past and presently together like oil I'm water, they erase built right on the fissure, you see, used to control the flow, both of power and the other thing. There was an edge of embarrassment in his voice. I pictured his hand, a retired operator scrupulously clean fingernails, still instinctively smoothing out wires in the dark. What do I do then? My own desperation surprised me. I'd never needed guidance until tonight. If you're still in, try backup ropes, short way, if you can patch in directly, but listen, don't try to lead them. The drill's founded on everyone playing along, believing in the script.

23:00If you break the rhythm too openly, it panics the wrong things, just keep the channel open, witness, witnessing sometimes enough. He paused, started clearing heavy, then, but don't let them make you speak the binding unless you're prepared to. A shriek from my speakers jolted me back. All lines flashed in emergency over a rite. Not just a single has half a village trigger the failsafe so twants, masses of suppress alarms cabusting in a chorus I'd never heard outside disaster drills. Screens swarmed with code. For one moment, every call recording scramble, then the thread separated, forces vying for dominance. Roots came through clearest, panting with tears. We've locked the church doors, they're banging from the outside of the whole village, or who we think is us, something's wrong with their eyes, some of them keep repeating lines from the last time, mixing up his jamey's gun. He left a note said he had to do his part. I think he's heading to the array. Before I could respond, another call overrode hers. Chief Pritchard, voice ragged, furious, dispatcher, halt all communication he making things worse, they're fighting at the hillside, some with lanterns, some cryce they're chanting old prayers, it's falling apart too many people

24:01talking at once, lines accrossing, whole stories am winding. A crash. Chalton the background. Pritchard's breath grew thicker. I can't remember if I locked the church door or if I'm still at home, are you hearing listen, do not respond if you. The rest gobbled into static. Through all of it a single repeated motif. Distant, rhythmic drumming at first faint then insistent accounting, as Malcolm had described. I realized horrified that my own heart was sinking to it. A third presence hijacked the line, Lena asked me this time her tone stripped of any superficial charm. You failed us, wherever you are, are you satisfied, outsider? Dalsy's no place for mainland interference, tonight should have been safe tonight was just rehearsal. Her words thickened to a snarl. If you care about the child, end your call now, don't let him use your name. The rest was a crash of sound shells grinding, wind rising, a whiplash of panics, a real eye ductus though it could reach through my headset. Now only the system's low wine remained. I looked down, handsplates, what's licking the keys? The boundaries were gone, I was inside the emergency instead of merely looking it. Following an instinct stronger than reason, I scanned for Jamie's

25:05number in the logs. Nothing, then an anomaly. A new call on side, showing a mainland code but pinging from Dalsy's birth data nodes. Your vehicle doesn't just get you from here to there. It's a bridge to the people and places that matter most. It's how you show up for your family, your community, and everyone else that depends on you. That's why for 125 years, Firestone has been building tires with one thing in mind, to deliver products that are as reliable as you are. Firestone, always dependable since 1900. Imagine standing beside a glacier, swimming with turtles in the Galapagos Islands or being invited to dinner in a remote village that few travelers ever see. Adventure life specializes in custom journeys and small chakrises that bring you closer to nature, local cultures, and unforgettable experiences around the world. Work one-on-one with a trip planner who uses firsthand travel experience to tailor make your trip around your interests,

26:09travel style, and budget. Visit adventurelife.com today to begin your next adventure. This is Matt Rodgers from Lost Cultures, thus with Matt Rodgers and Bowen Yang. This is Bowen Yang from Lost Cultures, thus with Matt Rodgers and Bowen Yang. You know when people try new food and suddenly it's like, wait, that's the reaction. A lot of people are having when they first try QB mayo. It's the one with the red cap and the little baby on the bottle. You've probably seen it in the grocery store before. And if you've ever just walked past it, some people would say that's a huge mistake because this mayo is different. Most mayonnaise uses whole eggs. QB only uses egg yolks, which gives it this rich umami flavor. It's smoother, deeper, and almost buttery. Once people try it, they start putting it on everything. Examages, fries, burgers, some fans even swear by dipping pizza crust in it. And once you notice it, you start seeing it everywhere. Chefs use it, restaurants use it, people who really care about flavor use it. Never try it, grab the bottle with the red cap next time you're at the store. Put it on just about anything, then you'll understand. QB, the original Japanese mayonnaise.

27:13I took it and a hollow version of Jamie's voice drifted out, strange yet familiar. I found the lights, he said. There aren't any roads left. Everyone walks on water, except me. I don't think we rehearsed this before. Are you there? My throat tightened. I'm here. Jamie, where are you? His breath hitch, the line filling with the muffled sound of his feet on gravel, the scrape of metal against stone. Near there, last time it was roof, or maybe macecray, I get mixed up. It's so bright, but if you look straight at it, there's nothing. A silence, then, did I do good this time? I tried to reach him with just my voice a tether of calm through chaos. Jamie, don't walk toward the lights, stay safe hide if you can. We are working to help. You're not alone. Am I not? He sounded scared now, young again. I feel like everyone's watching with someone else's eyes, sometimes I hear you before I call, like I already told you everything but I forgot the words. A high tide electric didn't my hits it. The monitoring display for Darcy Fulashton impossible warning. Water level major anomaly surges inconsistent with physics, array connectivity dropping.

28:14Simultaneously, a flood of intercom messages from the mainland. Panicked Coast Guard voices, the lines who provision offices clipped, bureaucratic question, why are you still on that call this batcher? We've declared Darcy a no-go, technical errors and false reports look off and leave it to central. They couldn't hear what I heard, or maybe wouldn't. First split second, I considered obeying, letting Perth calls full of the rest, but Jamie's tiny, determined voice was still in my ear. Please don't go. The line thinned to a whisper. If you let go, it also lips out, the water gets in everywhere. Desperate, I switch gear. I opened the secondary shortwave channel illegal for mainland communication, but tonight, roles barely mattered. Static bled in thin and you signal a relay of voices from all recordings, as if a whole dispatch center's memory had begun to hallucinate. My own words laid over the pass, spooling out in an endless fugal line. Accelated roofs frequency using electric Malcolm had suggested an old emergency maintenance handshake, bypassing standard routes and ping and direct. The connection popped thin but real. Ruth, her voice for all, almost broken. We can't hold it or, they say it's my fault for letting

29:17you in, but how could anyone just let Jamie disappear? Lightning forked in the backroom, thunder slashed her words. They want a story to believe in, but it's not working anymore, old leaners turning people on each other, nobodies of remembers which year they are and the map on the windows keep rearranging, sundores open to the cliffs, some don't open at all. I tried for warmth, for steadiness I no longer felt. Ruth, listen to me, the rituals they're not would keep you safe anymore, they're just all tablets covering up what, I can't say, Jamie's near the array, I think he needs you, is there any way you can reach him? A strangled laugh. I'm trying, I remember mumpitting me through the drilled entrust what you see outside, listen for the counting, always carry salt, but when it really happens when it's no longer just play it, none of it fits, I can hear some of them chanting, but it doesn't match the old words, they think the packs fraying, or maybe it's always been broken. For one reckless, burning moment I gave up reporting, note taking, all the rituals of bureaucracy. Ruth, I'm still here, you're not alone either, if we can keep this line open, maybe it can't take both of you. She solved once then the line trembled, stabilizing for a breath. That's what they're afraid of,

30:19you know, she said, almost a whisper. That's someone who isn't supposed to listen will change it, mum always said the drills weren't first really, just to keep the outsiders from making mistakes, but you keep asking, you keep listening, even when it hurts, maybe that's what they're scared of. On the map, Darcy flickered between connected and ghosted the island itself, no caught between states. In a last ditch attempt, I scavenged what I could from Malcolm's did a drop. He pinged my phone, his text popping up in a cluttered, rapid scroll. Found an old log includes rehearsal script, payment clause, an intenable moment, let the secelain that which does not belong, the call is born and when it's there may be substituted for the traditional payment, if script fails, signal collapses into open water, PDF follows, stay off signal when counting reaches 9. I was sweating now, had that in, can's cold as ice. My screen jitter with the PDF, lines broken and blurred. The clauses seem to rearrange every time I read them. In the margins, someone had scalded if the outsider hears the counting, it's already too late. For a lines blinking, Jamie, Ruth, Lena, and Anonone entry simply sold. I patched them all through,

31:20immediately chaos unfolded on the channel. Lena, voice posiness with fear, there's nothing to be gained by letting this go on. I told everyone don't make a chauffeur outsiders if payments do, then so be it, it's the old order. Ruth cut in, brittle with defiance. He's a boy, that's all. If you want sacrifice, come take me then. A new and familiar rumble frited air-vourses chanting, not quite in English, then the awful, syncopated knocking, once twice, building to an erhythmic nine. Jamie's voice, stark on top, was not supposed to last this long. Then, if you are listening, you have to remember me, or it's as if I was never anything. In that instant, Ahosh fell on Canyon toll. For one suspended moment, every interference dropped away, and I could hear my own shaky breathing and outsider intruder witnessed by Frayne accident, and could in a booth filled with cold electric light on a thousand dying calls. Lena whispered, he's listening through you, the array was built to keep the lines between us and the dark. Tonight, you invited him in. Malcolm's signal blired, a less shaky transmission, if you can, break the connection, during dancer, if they call your name, if you reply when the count reaches nine. But the count had already reached 10, somewhere deep in the

32:24Alonstone. A sound amount over the lines, not quite a hell, not quite the sea, a geometry screened in verses that sounded it came familiar. My own name, echoed in Jamie's frayne voice. Tears shot through my spine. I'm with you, Jamie, I said hardly able to stop myself. Bruce gasped, no, don't let it. But it was too late. My name, spoken again, multiplied, layered over itself, a car of vanished dispatchers calling out, can you hear me, are you there? Help me help? Time jerked. For heartbeat, I was seeing double my screen comically normal, then flicking to old monochrome lines, an error error of the dispatch room, a descloth decades out of date. My own hand holder, marked by someone else's ring rested on the console. I bit into my lip-tested blood. None of what I was seeing could be real, but I knew instinctively that it was true. A roar wind-hollowed voice Jamie's, and not just his spoke quietly, if the outsider hears the words and stays, the line holds for another year or another 10, but you don't go back. Around me, the dispatch centre flickered, its time out of joint, my own presence uncertain. I was both a witness and a participant,

33:27both the first and the last voice called. I tried to reach for Jamie for Ruth, for even leaning anything to grunt myself. Instead, the last words I heard before the connection dropped, were not a plea, not a curse, but a thank you. Thank you, Jamie said, sounding infinitely old, and heart-breakingly young in the same syllable. For staying all the way to the end, the line went dead. Around me, the world resolved into a cold, ordin' room, but the error tasted of salt and secrets. The locks had frozen mid-transmission, a waterfall of data with nowhere left to flow. Darcy's icon on the map was gone, the coq cleared itself, a racing proof of every act I'd taken. Everyone else in dispatch handled traffic jams and the odd barn fire. I, shaking uncontrollably, cradled a dead head set to my cheek, searching the silence for an echo not just of voices but of consequence. All I found was that old question, murmured once more on bidden, into the machine. Are you there? Can you hear me? I faint echoing knock one, two, up to nine, thirded the silent room, and I didn't know if it came from the system or from somewhere beneath my own skin. There's a moment after an emergency after the collapse of nerves, a tidal crash of

34:30calls, the last third gun mute when everything in the dispatch booth hums with a dread so profound it quite even fear. I sat there, every muscle vibrating, pressing my numb hands into the cheap laminate as if I could fill the tremor from Darcy rolling beneath my own skin. I had to felt heavy the bone. The other monitor is now just streamed bread-ness and with a blur irrelevant data marching on. Somewhere, mainland sirens croaked and died. The world inched forward as if nothing had changed, but I couldn't move. The log still fleckered with aftermages, words and time stamps fighting for pranacy trying to settle on which reality deserved to be called true. Something had shifted in a fabric of a night I felt the tide in my stomach, it pull not just geographic but personal. My own voice warped and gliped from the repeating ghost calls tangled in the air. Jamie, Ruth, Lina, names hung like weight refusing to drift away. Then static broke. My console jotted alive at the bank of lines fluttering, time stamped impossible intervals. The data mapped pulsed lazily and a new alert hinged Darcy's signal attempt to unstable.

35:31It was no longer protocol that pulled me forward by compulsion. My thumb hovered over the connect keys, some part of me dreading what voice might answer Jamie, Ruth or my own. The line snapped open. The old phone array wind loading a fresh layer of interference as if the island itself hesitated to speak. The sound trickled out hesitant as tied over shingle. Are you still there to someone listening? It was Jamie but thinner now. Distant waves slosh and the call scenebate in larger air than a room could hold. Jamie, I'm here, I didn't cut the line. I was trying too hard for calm, my own voice stretched close to breaking. He hesitated. It's starting. Ruth says most of them are at the church, but not everyone made it, Lina's outside saying prayers, but people keep moving in strange ways. I tried the doors, they come and go, Ruth tried the tower, now the ward was high, but it comes right through the steps and into the houses. I thought you wouldn't answer. I forced my way against the desk, winsing at a cramp in my leg. My screen's glimmered with waifers that didn't match anything on record. I said it's there. A syso young trying and failing to be old. Ruth says if someone listens to

36:34the whole thing, maybe the sea stops. Is that true? I swallowed. I don't know. We're trying, Jamie, does Ruth there? He handed off the phone with a scuffle. Ruth's breath was jagged, words tumbling she sounded as if she'd been running, the edge of hysteria braiding her willpower. Oh thank god it's you, there's noise everywhere. Some people are screaming, others just frozen, saring right through their own windows. Lina's out there but seems to be arguing with herself. The rooms every time I go upstairs, I end up in the hallway we have performed on change the wallpaper four years ago. She made a choking sound, half laugh, half cry. I'm so tired, how do we make it stop? I had nothing but the broken wisdom from Malcolm and a bloody trail of all the coals stay close to each other. Don't go near the doors of water comes inside, try to stay away from the lights, fun some us all at a don't split up, keep talking to me however you can. I'll try to array again. Real value shows up in reliability, you don't have to second guess. Like a set of firestone all season tires. They're designed to deliver confidence inspiring wet weather traction

37:34and a quieter ride, no matter the road, season after season. Firestone all season tires. For durability you can count on just like people count on you. Firestone always dependable since 1900. Imagine standing beside a glacier swimming with turtles in the Galapagos islands or being invited to dinner in a remote village that few travelers ever see. Adventure life specializes in custom journeys and small chichrises that bring you closer to nature, local cultures and unforgettable experiences around the world. Work one-on-one with a trip planner who uses firsthand travel experience to tailor make your trip around your interests, travel style and budget. Visit adventurelife.com today to begin your next adventure. This is Matt Rogers from Lost Culture East US with Matt Rodgers in Bowen Yang. This is Bowen Yang from Lost Culture East US Matt Rodgers in Bowen Yang. You know when people try a new food and suddenly it's like okay hold on I got a new favorite food.

38:36That's the reaction a lot of people are having when they first try Cupid Mayon. Yeah it's the one with the red cap and the little baby on the bottle you've probably seen it at the grocery store. And this mayo is different. Most mayonnaise uses whole eggs. Cupid only uses egg yolks which gives it this rich umami flavor. It's smoother, deeper, almost buttery. Once people try it they start putting it on everything. Egg sandwiches, fries, burgers. Chefs use it, restaurants use it, people who really care about flavor use it. Put it on just about anything. Then you'll understand. Cupid the original Japanese mayonnaise. In the blue lip wash of my booth I hoe Jamie muttering counting under his breath. One two don't forget three four five. The connection skitter forcing me up and moving. I called up Malcolm's emergency line hot struggling. He picked up on the first ring barely a voice more like a memory. It's happening isn't it? It is. The drills have broken there's no script holding. I'm hearing rooms rearrange people split between places whether readings escalating beyond sense. Lean is out there stirring the pop. The volunteers. They're not

39:37acting on their own anymore. Malcolm rapsed. The patterns too weak all the old fails safe so gone. A clacks and sounded on his end then the line fuzz but not before I caught the snap of his lighter and nervous take the sum outwards of the world briefly in the real. What do I do? I was breathing hard. I have to do something. He was quiet. It's come down to the signal. Always has. They built that array to hold things in but when it weakens when outside it was get drawn in and boundaries bliss sometimes something's got to give. Either you help bind things as the witness where you break the chain and the seat takes more than it so. I press my eyes tight pain blooming behind them. How do we keep it together? Another brief silence then. The only thing that's ever worked is for someone who doesn't belong to stay on the line through the counter to tie up the voices make the old death stick or to walk away that the sea ride is on ending. Just then a burst of frantic commotion over Darcy's line. Screaming then Ruth's voice it's coming the lighter everywhere they're trying to pull Jamie out. Lean is at the door but it isn't her. I don't think it to her anymore. Jamie's counting was growing louder, shilling off killter.

40:386-7 don't look at the lights 8-9. Stay with me. I begged. Don't go quiet. He went put the static newly swallowing his small voice. You'll stay till the end. Yes I said. I'll stay. The main monitor jumped a code injection from some high admin the main end probably and my supervisors prevailed back into my headset dispatch. You're over protocol. Darcy's an isolated event equipment flak this hazardous log off seat core control immediate compliance. I killed the feed without thinking earning myself a black mark. They were just voices now the old mainland never reached this far. A tremor rattled my keyboard at the whole console fronming as if Darcy itself was trying to reach out. I looked down and realised my right hand was cribbing aton printout of the over ritual contract Malcolm's attachment now creased crumple was sweat. The sentence occurred as if in my own handwriting if the rehearse payment fails someone must substitute. I could barely distinguish my own thoughts from the well pull of voices anymore. Outside a new storm broke a solid impossible thunder shaking the glass in its frame. Red and purple streaks

41:38twisted the air while the digital weather of a lace churn deterrecane velocity. A burst of calls roared into the array every line shilling with conflicting emergencies. Linus voice Wes and Farrell it's too late you let him in you fool if they take the boy or the witness now they'll never leave us alone again. Beneath it purchase gruff double turned get the children inside get get get his voice broke off replaced by three other voices all calling the same instruction. I scanned the lines hunting for Jamie's signal done only static only counting relentless ritual. Bruce sobbed to solve into an incomprehensible flood the hall of the islands dogs returned now I mode from any single place echoing up through the speakers and impossibly beneath my own fee. I pressed the heads of heart desperate for sense my own throat closed not with fatigue but with an ancient terror as if the dispatchers seat have fused to my spine. I didn't know if there would ever be a way out only that I was needed by someone to hear this through pressure on the mainland was specking to panic. I could hear coast guard officers someone from emergency planning a surge

42:39of simultaneous requests for status all tripping over each other none could get within a mile of Darcy the causeway was gone the harbor snapped off from the world Darcy's lonely signal was all that remained one flickering outlet for real voices and abounding for stories to alternate another glitch my monitor blinked a fold of audio logs tied critical unplayed on catalogue I opened it blood pounding in my ears the first fast spun up my own voice but all dehorced pleading to whoever hears this let the count rot let it pass let them keep what's theirs don't answer it for tides too high another someone else's accent did advice in tax and slang 17 gone payment unreceived next attempt ten years shift logs suspended may god of mercy on Darcy a third of childs Jamie's from another decade I'm not scared if we rehearse right no one will have to go a fourth irian shop lean out but from youth we do what's needed so the world ignores us because otherwise it might turn its eye keep the voice busy never silence the signal through them a code voices twisted remixed

43:40every few minutes throwing out a chant or a number or a fragment I scribbled it out my hand numb realizing the message wasn't just a history it was a manual protocol a warning at a test I I glanced back half convinced the room would be smaller the doors differently set the fluorescent tubes burning with a rudder primordial brightness at my feet the narrow grout between the tiles looked unfamiliar and the view from my window now pulsed in blue as if surfacing from cold fathomless water the emergency frequency is screened and light danced at the edge of the dispatches windows brief and canny ripples of geometry in the fog beyond the glass such as only ever blonde sea dreams we as force better through the static crying Jamie's outside I can see him know I see too the lights split him oh god oh god if I go out I'll disappear too mon dead once at rehearsal came back different talking with the ray force I focused all ahead Ruth listen repeat after me say your own name hold on to it get as close to Jamie as you can don't stop speaking not for a second platter as she ran gravel crunching her breath jagged distant screams worked by doubling she was muttering her name spitting syllables in time with her

44:44Ruth harker Ruth harker Ruthel Jamie's voice cut through wild frightened 910 the shapes makes sense if you look sideways don't let the song end keep the line keep the a sharp crack I flinch almost through the headset feeling the chill roll all the way up my arms as if someone had thrown open a door to roll winter sea every minor device on the desk lit with an error the main system crashed rebooted to a sprawl of black diagnostic code chef monitors flickered showing emergency mod lines min construct compromised a pat protocol in complete external signal at risk use a designation sacrifice slush witness I downed what was left of the bit of coffee stealing myself I would at last this if the only role left was witness then I would testify into the feed a chorus of voices now Jamie Ruth leaner the dogs elders chanting even coast guard officers trying to unite sets all blurred by electronic fog then braided again I see the shapes in the puddles if I step in I go with them Jamie moaned voice rising Ruth screamed fading don't let go don't let then the call fractured sounds fell as if someone impressed a pillow over my headset on the

45:50monitor three icons linger Ruth harker Jamie harker external witness actor then finally leaner Rayaline incomplete ritual at limit I keyed in desperately opening Malcolm's text read what do I do now I typed seconds later his hunter came in steady as a tide if you can reach the array override patch and using the old code from your emergency logs speak a love what's left of the script hold the line until the pattern repeats nine times and do not speak your own name if you fail the seagots in everywhere and else is boundary spread I looked at the impossibly all script it's worse drifting and reframing themselves on the paper but holding to one clifters the narrative ends with witness and the tide draws back something you crashed through the sound of glass shattering echoing clear from the back corridor of the spatch not a storm something inside the building the lights flickered off and off as if the pattern from dalsi was sweeping over here now looking for its own to claim I fought back the urge to run to break from my booze and see the world to history instead a patch through the oldest radio relay a direct tone mix limon's used only

46:51by war tom operators static rolled up then the circuits brine to horrifying near perfect clarity through eight a layered host of voices children and elders crying chanting repeating the rituals the same lines from 50 70 a hundred years back count the waves count the knocks keep the signal open or be swept below my own voice on naturally grave came through the distortion the pack persists at the edge of a vent payment in the voice or in the flesh I drew a deep breath if the only way to seal this was to bind myself so be it I clicked the mic live stating my hands hearing my heart as the world's tiniest drum dalsi and the external witness the rehearsal is at its end to draw back your tide take what is o but nothing of the living let the script end at my count my words twisted through the field shift in the texture of the air itself the room felt wider yet harder to breathe as a foxage and brine were mixing jimmy's voice shimmered in reply hitting every syllable as if it were an incantation I won't forget if I remember we can begin again if I say your name you can't leave can you I chose islands though the effort nearly split my jaw instead I began to speak the

47:54script listening from the aged hand writing in front of me did a breakers and wakers of the packed your witnesses present your lines are tied let the water fall back let the living remain the geometry in the erase reflection seemed to pulse aligning with my words my skin felt electrified peradoxically heavier and lighter the bones vibrating with the all transmissions cadence one last time draw the line iron the voice let the count end the emergency system sparsened of the windows flooded with blue then all signals snapped off opponents my console shut down silence as pure as sleep settled on my booth then something new chopper gentle roof voice singing in counterpart allola by not meant for outsiders summarise blade into the room carrying a residue of dread easily mistaken for relief I slowly unclench the muscles in my neck as stiff as iron the array was silent my job perhaps myself felt oddly with us from the edge of the fallen static james voice drifted through changed deeper thank you for staying with me that was the last transmission red light splinked easily through dawn drizzle reflecting off my windows

48:58but failing to illuminate anything at all systems returned innocuous as any weekday as if nothing out of the ordinary had passed a quiet dispatch booth a mug a steady exhalation of climate control I already could not remember precisely what I paid only to something ancient had been satisfied at least for now a maintenance technician a stranger entered on a shuffle of keys frowning at the disarray she nodded at me wordless as if I were only a shadow at the monitor she picked up a headset that was faintly imposed listening just for a breath the only sound was old numbers played backwards a voice reciting and steady cadence my own or someone I once was speaking account that drew the circle closed and that was the end witness voice in silence the only sound was old numbers played backwards the voice reciting and steady cadence my own or someone I once was speaking account that drew the circle closed the technician frowned nudged the speaker as if chastising faulty wiring and left it hissing on the desk she scolds something on the shift ledger no sign interrupt just aside we say what might have been a hasty doodle or an attempt to commit the shaped memory before it slipped she left the

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51:04this is Matt Rogers from Los Cultures test with Matt Rogers and Bowen Yang this is Bowen Yang from Los Cultures test Matt Rogers and Bowen Yang you know when people try a new food and suddenly it's like okay hold on I got a new favorite food that's the reaction a lot of people are having when they first try cupimeon yeah it's the one with the red cap and the little baby on the bottle you've probably seen it at the grocery store and this mayo is different most mayonnaise uses whole eggs cuppy only uses egg yolks which gives it this rich umami flavor it's smoother deeper almost buttery once people try it they start putting it on everything egg sandwiches fries burgers chefs use it restaurants use it people who really care about flavor use it put it on just about anything then you'll understand cuppy the original japanese mayonnaise left alone in a booth I should have collapsed under relief demanded a crash team called the union rep screened at central for compensation for trauma instead my body sat upright both hands perfectly still say for a single tremor in my ring finger every muscle yearned to move to run but instead my pulse just matched old counting

52:05nine ten then down to zero rebounding back time didn't settle not up first the glass into the spatch booth paint in my face and geometry not my own the outer weather return slowly is if picking through a closet for the world's proper coat I thought the room would shrink the view resolve merely road sky drizzle but each blink made it worse the light cut shop over the monitors too cold too bright for dawn the really signal usually a flat metallic ping was now crowded layer upon layer of voices some mine some of children some old with fear or reverence a cost status field on the console starter then displayed doll secontakt lost log archived I pressed my palm over it the hum seeped up my wrist still no traffic from the island no interruptions from the as if both worlds each so hungry to witness or forget had reached the standoff over the body of my exhausted voice the main line always covid for emergencies flushed yellow not a new alert just an administrative review request absurdly bureaucratic demanding explain deviation from protocol regarding d'Alcident times damp attached no further action pending I deleted it and read

53:10beneath my concern for these records a colder worry not animal and ancient what had really happened to Jamie roof leaner whose force had faded with such venom did the lights retreat fully or simply go silent for a season the way snow keeps to high ground before a slaps down and devours the lullins it might have been minutes or hours the shift change never came I watched the read up for the causeway but the midaswong between fought in non exception undefined date on the receding water was pure static the longer I sat the more the room filled with that old soldier as if brine was the base note of all memory I hiss my headset came alive just a helline twitch out of alignment with reality half a syllable maybe jamey's familiar stammer or maybe my own childhood list the syllables noted in it without clear shape I reached for the radio no prior to call this time just panic in a wild wish for noise to end the silence somewhere on the far side of the island's analog Malcolm's force bled in and it sounded like he was dialing from another he whispered a phrase I half remembered from weeks ago something about seals and signals his

54:13words barely touching the edges of sense you still on the static tutors words but the intent was clear either you alive the question was as much for himself as for me I wanted to reply that I was still tight here near their gun or stayed but the tongue felt shorn of its roots instead I listened that was what they needed a voice to witness the technician returned now holding a new headset she paused in the doorway eyes were in sleepless blue for a moment her features reconfigured a flicker of roofed subtline the sharp chin wide-fraid eyes then no only a stranger again system a log you out soon she said not unkind can't stay forever not with the recount a high I tried to ask if she'd heard anything freezes numbers a child's fracture prayer my mouth refused instead she gave me a knowing look and reset the brick on the nearest panel silence deepened as every connection blinked offline her radio crackled with distant nearly lost voice straffic accidents of fire it dispute a fairy slip on the other coast life had returned or at

55:13least something pretending well enough she lingered glancing at the console one last time then spoken a low tone sometimes on winter nights you can get a signal across the water my chest pinched but the wave passed I know I managed not our business of course she said already heading next call will be yours again unless you sign off system never forgets the voice it heard first it was the most ordinary thing in the world but I heard only dread that going in my ribs when she left I closed my eyes boned high I called sweat chilling my face in that moment something subtle shifted maybe an island sun rose or the geometry in the puddles faded if there was a piece it was fraught waiting for the next cycle the inevitable tick forward but for now the deluge was gone doggie silent the world suspended in the shallows the logs perched a fact of entries left only a single encrypted file on the desktop do not open during tide I moved to chase it paused and instead powered down the machine all together ending the ritual at the source the array if it listened we get no more from me tonight the supervisors voice came over the intercom harrowed demanding

56:16dispatch confirmed shift handoff of you closed out the Dorsey incident I depressed the buzzer thumbling all clear I lied nothing left to transfer those appauls then well make sure you wipe down the headset there's a waiting list for the channel or in report to medical before your next shift procedures procedures protocol ritual under another name I signed out forceful almost to find the systems lies faded to idle the dispatch center returned to anonymous night yet in the hallway looking back at the booth it felt as if some part of me was still at the console breath catching ear pressed at the voice that refuses to quit half myself and half another to witness in the machine yet in the hallway looking back at the booth it felt as if some part of me was still at the console breath catching ear pressed to the voice that refuses to quit half myself and half another the witness in the machine there was a faint click of the exit door a cold seam of air thirding down my back every thought felt dematricized as though dolls is tied twisted geometry had run ribbles through the ordinary world I forced myself down the corridor buttes raining on

57:17cheap tiles radio static echoing faint summons traffic stop the mundane world roaring back into place and carrying at the end of the hole medbay's light leaked out half closed blinds flickering against the deepening blue outside I stood in the spill trying not to draw attention but the netch-finger spotted me at once her expression sharp behind years of weary protocol your late off she said scanning her clipboard her eyes flicked up catching the trimmer in my hand we're off just another night I lied the effort press nails through my tongue she watched as I filled out the perfunctory forms no mention of phantom voices infinite counting or the fact that my signature barely looked like mine she took my pulse I thought she would remark on how it galloped her hithmically but she merely nodded its grubble and sent me on my way with a cup of water I drank it in one gulp salt burning at the back of my throat walking to my car I caught myself glancing over my shoulder unconsciously counting each lampus lining a lot most nights there are twelve tonight eleven but I didn't double back to check I fumbled my keys skin tingling with a staring wheel met my palm on the dry foam every radio station was dead air thick with feint and

58:21a current half music half broken moors the shape of the coastline outside my windows in rebuild the ridges along the water ably and familiar maybe it was exhaustion or the hangover of fear but the world seemed unfinished as though the ritual had showed up reality with only the roughest back all I kept my focus tight just the yellow lines in my headlights refusing to stare into the mist rolling up from the sea when I finally reached my apartment the quiet Preston appliances waited in their usual places fridge humming the sticky note on the table of a minders for groceries check the mail call mom nothing about the night nothing about islands or vanished names yet my fingers curled around invisible dials the muscles braced for further signals I dropped the keys sat heavily on the couch and tried not to listen for the counting in the plumbing sleep came late chopped by dreams washed and brine and blew lit holes in some I walked the doll see cos we're in all weather's my feet 30 intricate patterns in the sand voices calling names not my own other times I'd wake with the taste of static half convinced a child's voice muttered just outside the window repeating lines from the old scripts still morning rose

59:22graying sky over the city and making everything feel too solid too slow for the night that I passed my phone vibrated before sunrise a message no caller ID I clicked it open pulsed leaving just a whuffile no text curiosity pin me in place I played it on speaker the sun felt it distant up first only wind and goals then a mistake we may own fours calling numbers reciting a script I'd never learned but now new by har the counting falter at nine reset resumed in never quite reaching 10 I sat that way for minutes hot stuttering serving the floor was tilting so night finally cut through the blinds pulling me back from the edge I deleted the message buried the phone in a drawer and went through the motions coffee news a face in the mirror haunted by too much certainty later a call from my supervisor he sounded strange the cordial unaware asking after my health gently nudging the doll see file further behind us closed as equipment malfunction no follow up needed to take a few days off yet the conversation barely counted as real just per call another layer of ritual keeping main in order I agree to everything he hung up oblivious outside rain fell

1:00:27dot in the window and precise intervals almost rhythmic almost like numbers recited quietly under breath I resisted counting channeled the nervous energy into cleaning then simplistic to the window staring out to whether he would be if not for blocks and traffic and the endless great of city morning I checked the news no mention of dalsi of course only flood warnings and one sentence about tactical disruptions impacting our londresky services for everyone else it was nothing for me it was a palimpsis the real message written in absence I wondered if summer roof was looking out her own window holding Jamie close teaching him to count with the doors bolted against road tides if lena was gone for good or just folded deeper into the ritual blank space if Jamie would forget or remember too much miday another message arrived this time from Malcolm's old account the subject line who don't reply the body was a string of numbers the old emergency frequency I dialed anyway nerves froming and caught only silence cut with faint measured thin to overlapping voices as if all calls hung in suspension waiting for a witness I hung up

1:01:29phone slick with sweat thinking of the phrase the witness is present the line is tied brain led up by evening on impulse I drew out to the coastal of a look heart and my throat for reasons I couldn't name the tide was out the sky split with cold color I stepped onto wet sand and inhaled deep the airshop with resin and salt a pair of gold shrieked out at the low channel marker the calls called in a wild crosswind that bent them into something uncannily close to my own in that moment everything from the light to the shape of the wave scene both changed and the same as if the islands bargain had redrawn the world's lines while leaving the map the sunset bleeding pink and blue into the water and the signal inside me whatever had been bound last night faded just shade for having home I found my mind rehearsing lengths of silence the spaces between words I realized how much of emergency work was simply witnessing how little was real intervention I thought again of what Ruth had said maybe that's what they are scared of that someone who isn't supposed to listen will change it I didn't sleep well not for days each time I doze my dream swell with the old patterns the array the church rooms that led to see hands knocking in sets of nine

1:02:32yet something held a boundary a line then as a phone signal strongest memory for as long as it's needed on my return to work night I paused outside the dispatch center reluctant to enter I gripped the handrail and told my knuckles ached then let myself in the booth was freshly cleaned in no signs of what had bleth through before the screens blinked their ordinary patterns keys cool under my fingertips no one mentioned the dolly incident not even Malcolm Hood a later learnt had resigned leaving only an apology in the system notes some signals aren't meant to be closed the routine resumed calls arrive traffic pile of cardiac arrests a false alarm with the somal voices came and went needing me wanting only that someone would answer say their name keep them in the world a little longer that was the work and I welcomed it even if some were beneath the memory of Darcy trove like an old wind under weather one afternoon weeks later spotted a headline obscure island power up her it approved broadcast array restoration plant no mention of ritual or impossible tides just engineering jargon and interviews with half smiling officials a new chapter the mayor said

1:03:34I studied the accompanying photo familiar houses built into the cliff a shadow in a window of one eyes large and watchful almost expectant as I close the browser the shift lead ambled over dropping a new headset on my desk oh gear finally croaked he said hand shoving his pockets she get clearer audio now less chance of interference still you know the drill system logs everything nothing slips through for long he grinned unaware of pretending as much and returned to his screens the new heads at felt heavier for a moment as I plugged it in a faint click pulse through the line nine knocks then silence a shiver around through me but I forced my hand steady after a minute all was quiet I signed in and waited ears keyed to the world the night pass uneventful just before dawn I called up our cut sessions check the air elogs again nothing out of place except a single untouched file data 10 years prior I hesitated before clicking static then my own voice I could back if you hear this stay until the end count carefully someone needs a witness one two three I closed at heart thundering I set the headset down gentle this time as if it

1:04:40refragile was sacred stepping out into the fresh air the city waking behind me I felt the world slipping to grow lighter though never truly free of what had passed some part of me will always recantides and numbers listen for hidden calls maybe every witness changes things or maybe we only keep the dark on its side for another season and that was all the day opened up bright and relentless the work the world would go on the summer on an islands forgotten channel at the pencil line between sea and sigil the pattern waited listening ready for the next rehearsal the next necessary voice I let myself breathe for the first time it felt nearly like enough and that is the end thank you for listening and I will see you in the next one you your vehicle doesn't just get you from here to there it's a bridge to the people and places that matter most it's how you show up for your family your community and everyone else that depends on

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