“We were wrong about the EMP, Cronauer. It wasn’t just a stray burst.” Through a crackling Yaesu handheld, Dave reveals the architect behind the “Dark Sky” burst—and why the Driftless valleys were left intact to serve a new, predatory kingdom.
The “grandpa” mask was on, the honey was a bribe, and the WORT master crystal was tucked over his heart. Norm Stockwell didn’t look like a revolutionary, but as the heavy steel of the Checker Marathon hit Highway 14, the signal proved otherwise.
At 23:30, the lot at Station Zero was heavy with Driftless mist. Cronauer pulled on the Biltwell helmet, feeling the hardwired leads click into place. He lowered the PVS-14s over his eye. The world turned a grainy, glowing green. He hit the ignition. The boxer twin hummed low. He scrolled the iPod wheel to Queensrÿche’s Empire. As the opening bass line of ‘Best I Can’ slammed into his ears, he clicked the visor shut and kicked the GS into gear. He didn’t turn on the lights. He just leaned into the darkness and vanished into the treeline.
“Clinic update for March 11th,” the voice said. It was thin, frayed at the edges, but the cadence was unmistakable. “Audrey to… anyone. Cronauer, you out there? The signal is fading. God, I hope you’re listening.” The static rushed back in like a flood. Cronauer didn’t move. He just watched the needle settle back to zero. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “She’s alive.”
They want the radios, and they want the food,” Dave said quietly. “They want us hungry and quiet.” Cronauer reached for the gain knob, his eyes fixed on the orange truck parked outside. “Then I guess we better start building that tower on the ridge. If they’re going to come for the signal, let’s make sure they have to climb for it
“Ron didn’t just buy things. He bought the things that make things.” Inside the pole barn, Cronauer finds the lumber, lead, and ambition to turn a local signal into a regional resistance.
The town square outside the Viroqua Public Library buzzes with life for the first time since the collapse. As neighbors gather for a community meeting, the stakes become clear: rebuild, reconnect, or fade away. With Joy Luebke leading the charge and Cronauer revealing the return of a long-silent radio signal, the path forward starts to take shape — cautiously, but with purpose.
A stranger rolls up with diesel smoke and warnings, carrying news that might just change everything: a meeting, a familiar name, and whispers of movement on the Mississippi. For Cronauer and the crew, it’s the first step toward whatever comes next — and maybe the last chance to build something before it’s all too far gone.
Cronauer didn’t remember falling asleep — again. First the dream, now this. Outside, the signal was warming up, and inside the shack, so was the fight.
In the stillness of night, Cronauer is visited by a vivid dream — a rush of memory wrapped in warmth, music, and a quiet goodbye. As the past fades, he’s left with a reminder, a call sign, and a feeling he can’t shake.