The Buzzer

The Buzzer

UVB-76

(Note that UVB-76 is not a song, but a real radio station that transmits to this day from a seemingly abandoned station fairly close to Moscow, Russia. A purpose for the station has never been identified, but people have quite a few guesses, including the idea that it's a deadhand switch should the Russian Govt ever be eliminated. There are a few remixes available, but none that I found too appealing, so here's a real recording of UVB-76)

It took me a few hours to completely work over the pilot's offer to shelter down with him in the Mojave, but I eventually decided against it. There was no point in going somewhere so inhospitable that the zombies couldn't survive if it ended up killing me to death in the process. I had my hesitations about telling him as much, since it seemed like it was his last bastion of hope. To turn a man down who's offered to take you to his last hope for salvation is a horribly spiteful thing. Some people took it well, but there was no way to know how he would react. Instead, I asked him if he thought anyone in the world had managed to hold out against the plague. To my complete and utter surprise, he answered me with a very confident "Yep!"

"Really?!" I asked, craning my head around to see if he was smiling- he wasn't. "Who?" I prodded, unable and unwilling to contain my curiosity.

"Ze Russians!" He said, mustering up a poor impersonation of a Russian accent. "Yeah, they've got this one radio station known as UVB-76, or 'the buzzer'. It's been online since the 70's, and all it ever does is send out a repeating, timed tone. Some people say they heard some voices on it, and I think I heard someone on it about a month back- but that might've been the alcohol whispering in my ear. Anyway, it's still broadcasting, which means that someone's still maintaining the station and feeding it power. Why would anyone do that unless it served a purpose- and who would know that purpose but the Russian Government? It's kind of a stretch, but I think they've locked it down on their end of things."

I shook my head. "That doesn't mean anything. Most of the US Government's top twenty-five are still alive, holed up in that bunker up North. I hear Area 51's still accumulating bodies along the perimeter, the internet still works- kind've, and the White House bunker is still functional. Only problem is that these VIPs are worthless, each and every one. The President's no more valuable than you or I anymore. I mean, what's a government without people to govern? There's still people out there, but we're not the United States anymore- nobody's guarding the borders, nobody's fighting wars with anyone, nobody cares if you cut down a tree in Yosemite, whether you pray to Allah or God- nobody cares about any of that bullshit anymore. Hell, dollar bills are just kindling anymore, absolutely worthless for anything else. We're not Americans, and this isn't the US- Russia's probably in the same situation, so as far as I'm concerned, they're just a bunch of men hiding in their holes. Good on 'em for surviving, but they're not my leaders anymore."

The pilot chuckled visibly more than audibly, and seemed to settle back a little more. "You sound a little hostile there, Chief. You and the big bad government got some bad blood between you?" He asked.

"No." I answered, trying not to sound as angry as I was. 

"I see. So have you given the Mojave any more thought?" He asked, sounding painfully hopeful. I had a bad feeling that he wasn't going to like the truth.