It was only a minute ago when the shelter shook and she knew it had actually happened and that her dad didn't just send his occasional 'test drill'. Her hands shook as she turned off her mic praying for any type of response.
Her phone gave a loud buzz on the counter and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She jumped out of her seat and ran over to it only to see it was a national alert telling everyone in the area to head to their nearest bomb shelter. She shook her head and went back over to her seat.
"A bit late for that..." She mumbled.
Lacie, Allison's cat, rubbed her cheek gently across Allison's leg. She bent over and picked her up gently petting her beautiful white soft fur. Lacie began to purr and made herself comfortable on Allison's lap, blissfully unaware of the anxiety pulsing through Allison's body.
The shaking of her hands didn't become any better as minutes of silence passed her. Her heart beat so loud in her ears she could no longer take it. She placed Lacie on the ground, who gave a disapproving meow and went over to the old Vynals her dad kept in the shelter as it seemed to be a great place for storage.
Her fingers skimmed across the many records, most which seemed to be old classics, like Frank Sinatra, and Buddy Holly. Finally, she found one that the music would remind her of better times. She put the record on and let the notes drown away the silence.
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Five records later and two full breakdowns later, she finally heard someone on the radio through the signal wasn't clear. She turned down the music and rushed over to her radio station system doing everything she could to make the other person clearer. She struggled for a few minutes but finally could make out what the voice was saying.
"Hello? Anyone? Can anyone hear this? Did anyone else survive out there?" The voice sounded like a young man, and he too sounded panic-stricken.
Allison turned on her mic and tried to remain as calm as possible, "Hello? I can hear you. Can you hear me?" There was a silent pause for a moment until the man's voice returned, sounding a bit more joyful than before.
"Hello yes. I can hear you. My name is Ethan, I'm in a shelter in Kentucky."
"Hey there. My name is Allison, I'm in a shelter in Georga." She responded.
Both of them were thinking the same thing, more than one place in America was hit. There was a long moment of silence before the man named Ethan spoke again. He asked if anyone else survived where she was and how their radios were even able to reach each other.
Allison explained that no one else was in the shelter with her and that her radio transmitter was one of the best in the world. She had made it herself with the help of a friend of hers. Such a good friend she often regarded him as a family member. His name was Max, and thinking of him filled her with dread once more.
She had yet to think about what might have happened to him. She also wondered what might have happened to her father who was in the military and was stationed in Canada with only a month left. She couldn't help but think he would be fine and that only the U.S. was the one hit, but as for Max...
"I'm with 10 others, we nearly didn't make it in time. I don't know if anyone else made it alive. Have you heard from anyone else? It sounds like you made a pretty powerful machine, can you pick up on any other countries radio stations?" Ethan asked, breaking Allison from her thoughts.
"Other countries?" She repeated. She had never tried before, though now might be a good time to try. She wrote down the numbers she would need to get back to his radio waves and began her search for other counties broadcasts.
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