White Space Season 2

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Authors: Platt + Wright
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again.
    Just as Rick was about to play an interview with the pastor, the warble was back. And with it a static that Bruce hadn’t heard since the old days of regular AM radio.
    Bruce went to move the truck again, but his hand froze instead. Just like his body.
    What the hell?
    Suddenly, Bruce heard something in the static, another voice, like bleed from another station. Something seemed oddly familiar about the voice, even though he couldn’t make out who it was, what they were saying, or even if it was a man or woman. He perked his ears trying to make sense of the words, until a single syllable rose in repeat over the static.
    “Kill, kill, kill … ”
    What the hell? Is this some sorta joke? Some weird metal music or something?
    The static grew louder, and he heard a snippet of the sport’s station ID being played before the warble drowned it, and the words returned.
    “Kill, kill, kill, kill … ”
    Kill? Kill who?
    “Kill Alex Heller.”

    * * * *

CHAPTER 6 — Liz Heller

    Liz woke to the sound of Aubrey on the baby monitor, murmuring in her sleep. The clock read 12:01 a.m. She still had plenty of time to stay buried beneath the covers, but her mind immediately whirred into motion, contemplating the day’s big move.
    As much as she couldn’t wait to leave Hamilton Island, it felt as if she were closing the door on her past, a door which for some reason, Liz was frightened to close. California was the new start her family desperately needed. Yet, part of her still felt like leaving the island meant leaving Roger behind.
    Liz reached down to trace her fingers along her wedding ring, the ring she’d never removed except for a few times when washing dishes in the sink, afraid it would slip from her finger — a fear made all the more real since she’d lost her engagement ring nearly a decade before.
    “Don’t worry,” Roger had said when she first lost it, then spent nearly a week tearing the house to pieces in search. “It’ll turn up someday.”
    “But it’s the ring you gave me,” she said. “The ring has a story, one of our best. It’s personal history, and I can’t stand to think it might be gone forever.”
    Roger wasn’t much of a jewelry guy. He didn’t know a diamond from a peridot, but he had seen this ring in a jeweler’s window one day early in their dating, and to hear him tell the story, it had practically whispered his name as he passed. It was silver rather than gold, which Liz preferred, with two thin bands weaving together as one. The gem was an emerald, tiny and beautiful. Liz always thought emeralds were so much prettier than diamonds. Though they had never discussed it, Roger clearly agreed, drawn to the ring as he was. It was about two counties and a canyon outside his budget, but he saved for a year anyway. When he finally went back to buy the ring, it was gone. The jeweler had sold it to someone just two weeks before.
    Roger was devastated.
    He asked the shopkeeper if there was any way to get another ring of that kind, but the man said there wasn’t. The manufacturer no longer made it. But he knew a custom jewelry maker who might be able to come close. It might cost more. Though Roger didn’t have the money, he’d already spent a year saving to get what he did have, so he agreed, knowing he would find a way to pay for it someday. That someday came five months later.
    Liz felt tears trickling down her cheeks as she remembered the night he proposed.
    Roger wrote her the most beautiful love note, with a simple Will you marry me? like a kiss at the end, then slipped it into the book she’d been reading at the time — The Princess Bride — so it would fall out when she opened it, which it did, since he had written the note on stock that was slightly too thick for the book.
    The Princess Bride was one of Liz’s favorite books. She still had the hardcover originally bought by her father, and read it at least once a year. The note was the most romantic thing anyone had ever

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