Between Static and Heaven
by Michael A. Reed Talan pressed mom's radio to his ear, listening for signs of her spirit. He twisted the volume knob and changed the channel, as if that would change anything, then screwed with the antenna. There wasn’t even static. “It’s been almost a week,” Talan said. Zara, Talan’s older sister, peered out the broken window, her eyes fixed on the dust cloud down the road. “The Link is coming this way.” “What if they can't charge it?” “It doesn’t work like that.” “I know, but it’s never been this long. What if we lose her connection?” “Relax.” As The Link neared, people swarmed out from their hiding places beneath sewer manholes, between alleyways, within shadowed buildings. They all came from a bygone neighborhood buried in the Expired Zone, a neck of the city that had been abandoned rather than modernized. A dozen church bishops marched with The Link hoisted over their shoulders. They gripped the metal polearms with two hands and kept their eyes straight ahead. Cr...
