Ava Harper had always been intrigued by the idea of amateur radio, the notion that you could send your voice across the airwaves to connect with strangers from distant places. After months of studying, she had finally passed her technician amateur radio license exam. As a 29-year-old systems analyst, she spent her weeks in front of screens, solving problems and chasing deadlines. But on the weekend, she longed for something different—a connection beyond the digital world.
One weekend after a long week at work, Ava sat by her transceiver nervously adjusting the frequency. She had just set up her first antenna on her apartment balcony, and the thought of reaching out to someone, anyone, filled her with excitement. Taking a deep breath, she keyed the microphone.
“This is Kilo Delta Six Juliet Hotel November, anyone on frequency?”
For a moment, there was only static. Then, a smooth voice broke through the noise.
“Kilo Delta Six Juliet Hotel November, this is November Five Victor Tango. Good morning, madam. This is Sam.”
Ava’s heart skipped a beat. The voice on the other end was warm, with a calm, easy confidence that immediately put her at ease. She smiled, her nerves melting away.
“Good morning, Sam. I’m Ava. Just got my license and wanted to try out this radio I got in a garage sale. Looks like it works!” She laughed.
Sam chuckled. “It definitely does. Congratulations on the license! So, what got you into ham radio?”
And so began a conversation that would become a weekly ritual. Every weekend, Ava would tune into the same frequency, and Sam would be there, waiting. They talked about everything—his love of radio, her work in tech, their favorite books and films, the stars overhead. The more they spoke, the more Ava found herself drawn to him. There was something timeless about Sam, something that made her feel like she’d known him for years.
Weeks, months passed, and Ava couldn’t stop thinking about Sam. Their conversations had grown deeper, more personal. She found herself looking forward to those weekend hours on the airwaves more than anything else in her week. But despite their closeness, Sam remained somewhat elusive. He never mentioned where he lived or what he did for work, and every time Ava tried to ask, he would gently change the subject.
One evening, after another long conversation, Ava decided to search online for Sam’s call sign—November Five Victor Tango—just to see if she could learn more about him. What she found chilled her to the bone.
The call sign was registered to Samuel Reed, a well-known ham operator from a small town in Kansas. But the detail that stopped Ava cold was this: Samuel Reed had died about 15 years ago, in a car accident.
Heart pounding, Ava stared at the screen in disbelief. How was it possible that she had been speaking to someone who had been dead for over a decade? She felt a wave of fear, but also an undeniable sense of curiosity. She had to know more.
Ava became obsessed with uncovering the truth. She delved into old ham radio forums, archives of past Field Day logs, and newspaper clippings about Samuel Reed. Everything confirmed what she had found—Sam, a 22 years old male had died the 2nd of November during a rainy day; (Almost 15 years ago). Yet every weekend, without fail, she still heard his voice on the airwaves.
Finally, one weekend, she confronted him.
“Sam, I’ve been looking into your call sign. I found something… strange.”
There was a long pause on the other end. When Sam finally spoke, his voice was softer, almost sad.
“You found out, didn’t you? About my accident.”
Ava’s breath caught in her throat. “You knew? How is this possible, Sam? How are we talking if you’ve been… gone?”
Sam sighed, the crackle of the radio only amplifying the distance between them.
“I don’t fully understand it myself. But after the crash, I was feeling sleep, so I keyed the microphone… And woke up here, on the airwaves. My life, my existence—it’s been stuck in this loop. And somehow, I can talk to you. But I’m still trapped in that moment, Ava. I can’t move on.”
Ava’s mind raced. This wasn’t just a voice she had fallen for—it was a man caught in time, suspended between life and death. And if he was still reliving that moment, maybe there was a way to change it.
“Sam,” she said, her voice trembling with determination, “what if we could change what happened? What if I could stop the accident?”
Sam was silent for a long time, but then he spoke, his voice tinged with both hope and fear.
“I don’t know if that’s possible.”
Ava threw herself into investigating Sam’s accident. She tracked down old police reports, witness statements, and even the weather conditions on the night he died. She learned that Sam’s car had skidded off a rain-soaked road, crashing into a ravine. It was a tragic accident, but Ava was convinced that it didn’t have to happen.
Armed with this knowledge, Ava began to experiment with a brand-new transceiver, but no communication was passable using a new transceiver, trying to understand how she had connected with Sam in the first place. It was only the transceiver she got from the garage sale able to communicate with Sam, she theorized that her transceiver was somehow interacting with a temporal anomaly—an echo in time that allowed her to speak with someone who no longer existed in her present. If that was the case, maybe she could send a message back to the rainy day of the accident and warn Sam in time to change his fate.
As the anniversary of Sam’s death approached, Ava prepared to take the greatest challenge of her life. She modified her radio setup to increase its range and tuned it to the precise frequency and atmospheric conditions that had allowed her to speak with Sam. She knew this was her only chance.
On the rainy day of the accident’s anniversary, Ava sat in front of her transceiver, hands trembling. She checked the clock—it was almost time. Sam’s car would crash in less than a couple minutes. She took a deep breath and keyed the microphone.
“Sam, are you there?”
His voice crackled through the speaker. “I’m here, Ava. It’s almost time, isn’t it?”
She could hear the fear in his voice, but also the hope.
“Yes,” she said, her voice steady. “But I’m going to stop it. I need you to trust me.”
Using the information she had gathered, Ava broadcast a warning to the version of Sam driving that day, hoping that the anomaly would carry the message across time. She repeated the warning over and over: “Sam, slow down! Move onto another frequency that’s not in use over”.
Minutes ticked by, and then, silence. No response. No sound.
Ava’s heart pounded in her chest. Had it worked? Had she reached him in time?
And then, finally, Sam’s voice returned, soft and amazed.
“Ava… I don’t know how you did it, but … I’m free.”
After that weekend, the temporal anomaly that had allowed them to speak was closing, Sam’s voice came through one last time.
Thank you, Ava. You saved me from been stuck in this loop. “I’ll be forever grateful”. And then, just like that, the signal went silent.
Ava sat in the darkness, her heart full of love and loss. She had saved Sam, but in doing so, she had lost him forever. Yet, she knew that their connection—those moments shared over the airwaves—would remain with her for the rest of her life.