Episode Five, Part 5

R a d i o   S i l e n c e

"This is Riverly of Basilisk, and I am still alive." 

Everyone froze at the deceleration. An abundance of emotions that couldn't be resolved down to one. Guilt. Relief. Disbelief. 

Kodiak's breath hitched in his throat, tears falling down his cheeks before he could even register the burn they left in his eyes. All these days he had been weighed down with the idea that he had gotten his best friend killed, and suddenly it was all taken off of his shoulders, like he was breathing air for the very first time. 

"She's-" 

"She's alive." Noah answered Kodiak, hiding the overwhelming relief he felt himself. "We need to figure out where these signals came from. If all of us can hear them," he began, pulling Kodiak's radio from his hand without resist, tuning it into the same message as his own, "then we should assume everyone with a radio can." 

Noah's words rang loud and clear in Kodiak's head, acting as if an alarm, a brutal force of awakening. "Eryx heard it. And Rogue, no doubt. Everyone that would want her dead." 

"Hold on, you think Eryx is behind this?" Noah sought clarity. 

Kodiak nodded, Noah glancing at everyone else in the group for confirmation. By the look on their faces, he held out his curiosity to ask, understanding that the wound still felt fresh. 

"Alright. Then we rule out Basilisk as a possible location. And Riders as well." 

Kodiak chewed on his lip, breathing deeply as he struggled to decide whether he could trust Noah or not. If he was lying, and if Kodiak believed him when he said Sol wasn't at Riders, then they could be led into a trap, some sort of decoy far away from where she was, cancelling out any chance they might have to get to her on time. But in spite of how much Kodiak didn't want to accept his help, he knew deep down that he meant what he said to him. 

"Believe it or not, I don't want anything bad to happen to her. I'm not my father, she isn't her's. I'm coming with you." Noah looked over his shoulder, suddenly remembering Lyra was within earshot, almost regretful that he had revealed his own peace towards Basilisk's Sovereign. Almost. 

Kodiak looked over to Fenn and Ares, Aeryn, Quill and Bianca, searching his people for any sign of resistance. He turned back around to face Noah, nodding. "But the girl stays behind." 

Lyra stepped forward, leaving her place beside Jonas and walking over to Kodiak. 

"Like hell I am." 

"Lets just call it conflict of interest." Bianca spoke up, moving out from behind Kodiak, not afraid to step up to a challenge. 

"Wynnlow is my friend! If anyone should be looking for him, it shou-" 

"It shouldn't be you." Noah interrupted Lyra. 

She looked at him, stunned, stuttering on her words. She hadn't expected him to take their side, for him to call her out like that. 

He shifted towards her, pulling her aside so he could speak to her alone, but all Lyra could feel was Ares' eyes on her, the joy everyone else found in her anguish. She was alright with losing everyone else, but not Wynn. Not Wynn. 

"I need you to take Jonas back to camp. It's not safe for him to be out here." Noah said. He paused, glazing over the emotion on her face, sparked by a sudden empathy inside. "I can help them." 

Lyra looked up at him, eyes watering out of frustration. "I won't say yours if you don't say mine." 

Noah stepped back a little, scrunching his eyebrows, tilting his head. Lyra understood by his expression that he needed more clarification. 

"Your shortcoming." 

"I'm not following..." 

"Their Sovereign. You have a devotion to her." Noah was now the one to stumble, caught off guard by Lyra's declaration, perhaps unaware of his truth until she mentioned it. 

"I don't know what extents you'd go for her, maybe you don't even know yourself, but I can see it. You let anyone else know - your dad, Judas - it'll get dangerous. You know that, right?" 

"Why are you trying to help me?" Noah asked. "If you tell Rogue, then you'd win and I won't be king. He wouldn't be able to trust me anymore. You and Judas could fight it out." He explained. "What's in this for you?" 

"You're never get gonna get it that I don't want to Rule, are you?" She laughed a little, shaking her head before she admitted her reasoning to him. "I have my own shortcoming." 

Then it clicked. "Wynnlow." Noah breathed, finally piecing it all together. 

Lyra nodded. "You'd go against Riders if it meant protecting Riverly. I'd do the same for Wynn. For my brothers, as well." 

She waited a moment before speaking again, allowing time for her words to register in Noah. "I'll take Jonas home." She said. "I'll keep him safe. Find Wynn for me." 

Noah nodded, turning his attention to his brother, holding him by his shoulders. "You hear that, bud? Lyra's gonna take you home. I'll meet you there." 

"What are you going to tell dad?" Jonas asked. 

Noah frowned, looking over to Lyra as they realized they didn't have an answer for him. He forced a smile, covering up the doubt from his brother's sight. "Don't worry about that. I've got it covered." Noah assured him, already plotting together his lies to tell their dad. 

Jonas smiled halfheartedly. He was at the age now where he could understand when someone was lying to him, and though he didn't always understand why, he knew, at least, that Noah was doing it with the best intentions for him. Not wanting to upset him, Jonas nodded and allowed Lyra to steer him away, taking one last look at Noah before he was pulled out of sight. 

Noah sighed, a moment to collect himself, to shake away any signs of vulnerability from the others. He swallowed back his fear, trying to distract himself from the knowledge that Jonas was out there in the woods, without him, and focus on what he had stayed behind for. Who he stayed for. Riverly. 

"Where do we start?" 

- 

Sol paced around anxiously in the control room. It had been over an hour now since she sent the message, but no one had radioed back. Not Kodiak. Not Dreea. Not even her father who she knew would be enraged at the news. 

She managed to loop the message, her voice repeating in interludes, the same words broadcasting out every 20 seconds. Still; radio silence. 

Time was passing, and she knew more than anyone what the conditions were like out in the DeadLands - every minute that went by triggering a vision of Wynnlow - suffering the way she had done. She had thought about it too many times that it was burned into the back of her brain, flashing every time she closed her eyes for too long. 

If Kodiak was here, he'd know what to do. Sol told herself. He'd be able to answer the questions wages war in the back of her mind, the ones that argued what to do next. 

Maybe people could hear her. Even in spite of hearing nothing back, she wanted this to be true. She wanted Dreea to come and find her. She wanted to get help for Wynnlow. She wanted Eryx to endure the same torment she had in not knowing where she was, or if she was coming back to Basilisk. But she couldn't wait on maybes. 

Wynnlow was out there, and he would die if Sol didn't go back for him soon, and that wasn't something she could live with. She looked around, pulling all the draws in the room open until she found what she was looking for. 

She found a marker, but nothing to write on - not even a notepad or a slip of paper anywhere, so she improvised: writing in large, messy writing a note that she only prayed someone would find soon... 

Slipping out of the room, Sol made her way out into the main living quarters searching around for some sort of rucksack. Miraculously, she caught sight of one poking out from the floor beside the couch - the arms straps trailing out along the floor. She hurried over to it, quickly emptying the contents to see what was inside. It was then she realized that it was one of the bags from Basilisk, one of the many that Sol had managed to deliver to Wynnlow without being caught. Most of the things she had given them were gone, leaving behind only a torch, flask, and water filter. 

She shoved it all back inside and returned to the cupboards in the kitchen area, fitting inside any food bars or tins she could manage, saving - of course - room for enough bottles of water. There was one more thing she needed before she left -  a shirt of some description. Something to protect her from the scorching sun, possibly tie up any wounds her or Wynnlow would encounter when she reached him. 

Unable to carry herself down the hall to the bedrooms, Sol took her pick from the shirts slung across the back of the couch, settling for a musky grey one that was comfortably large on her. It wasn't even on purpose, but as she pulled the material over her head, she realized it smelt like Wynnlow, and she was overcome with a sudden wave of emotion. A drawing to leave and to run - until she found what she was looking for. To not look back. 

Five // Part Five

It smelt like Wynn.