The Germ Growers: The Broken Wire

The wrong kind of message

We found the wire that connected us to the world. To make anyone hear us, we had to break it.

Out of one danger

We had escaped a hidden settlement where strangers grew disease. Now the open country was finishing what they had started.

A promise with a limit

Jack could barely stand. I left him beside water and promised to return in two hours, whether I found help or not.

One more tree

I marked the trees so I could find him again. Beyond one more belt of timber, the telegraph poles crossed the plain.

Yesterday’s strength

I ran back. Together, we struggled to the line. I could not climb. Yesterday, Jack could have done it easily.

The last sweet

We had one lozenge left. Jack wanted to divide it. I put the whole thing in his hand.

What I could give

He tried to climb and slipped. I cut the sleeves from my coat and pulled them over his scraped knees.

One body, two lives

He climbed again. Stopped. Held on. From below, I watched my own life shaking in his arms.

The broken wire

At the top, he reached the wire. It parted. One end dropped into the dust, and Jack’s grip began to fail.

The longest silence

He slid down into me. We fell together. Then there was nothing to do but listen.

Someone was listening

The station was nearby. They had already been searching for us. When the line went dead, riders followed the break.

This time, I stayed

At the station, they gave us food and blankets. Jack was still ill. I sat beside him in my ruined coat, and stayed.