[Nine]
Brian has turned the radio off because the fires are being discussed on every station, and the car is humming along in relative silence. Justin is chewing two pieces of gum from his new pack of Trident, and Gus is tinkering with the baby monitor he brought with him, having just put in new batteries Brian got for it.
They are pulling into the long, winding back driveway to their house; the main road they usually take has been closed off because of the fires, which are still burning brightly. Brian has just rounded a sharp turn and can see their house when a spike of startling noise comes from the back seat.
Justin turns around, chewing. "What was that?"
Gus is frozen, his hand curled around the white plastic monitor. The red light that appears when the monitor is turned on glows brightly.
Nothing more happens, and Brian parks. No one moves to get out of the car.
"What if my old baby monitor is picking up signs from extraterrestrials?" Gus asks suddenly, staring down at it in awe.
"Jesus, we're all flipping out," Justin mutters, turning back around and rubbing his temples.
The monitor crackles again. Gus lets out a soft noise of surprise.
"It's just static, Gus. Turn it up and see," Brian says.
Gus turns the volume knob on the side with his small thumb. As soon as his thumb moves away, the monitor sings with activity. Beeps can be heard in the static, and the red light jumps in time with them. "It's a code," Gus breathes.
"Let me fucking see that," Brian demands, and Gus passes it to him in the front seat. It continues to beep.
"It's only noise." Justin sounds reasonably convinced.
"Let's get inside," Brian murmurs, eyes trained on the baby monitor. Justin nods and unbuckles his seatbelt, but Gus' insistent voice stops him.
"We might lose the signal!"
Brian's breath hisses in an angry rush between his clenched teeth. "We are not just going to sit out in our own driveway like idiots."
"Certifiable," Justin snorts.
"I'm going in now," Brian declares testily, reaching for the door handle.
"Don't do it."
Brian stubbornly opens the door and gets out of the car. Justin follows suit. Since Brian has the monitor, Gus has no choice but to follow. He walks up to his father, frowning, and opens his mouth to say something, but before he can the beeping stops completely.
"The hell?"
The static becomes louder, and vastly different sounds start to emit. A howling, eerie sound fills the air, and Gus looks stricken with a mixture of fear and excitement.
"Nobody move," he orders.
No one was planning on it. Brian and Justin are frozen. Intently they listen as the sound shifts from the howling for a split second, morphing into something that sounds suspiciously like…
"Voices?" Justin asks, disbelieving.
"Did you hear them too?" Gus asks. "They weren't English though. You heard them too, right?"
"I heard them," Justin says tightly, exchanging an unreadable glance with Brian.
Brian is stock-still, the hand holding the baby monitor outstretched. "It's probably picking up another monitor."
"Let me see it," Justin asks. Brian studies him for a moment before moving to pass it over the roof of the car. Justin reaches for it, and suddenly the noise explodes into further clarity, filled with unintelligible voices.
"Stop," Gus cries out.
Justin and Brian freeze. Their hands are both locked on the monitor, suspended over the roof of the car.
"It doesn't sound like words."
"This is why," Brian pronounces slowly, "we don't watch the news. People are mindfucked by the news. I'm letting go now."
"Dad, no! Don't do it."
"You'll lose the signal," Justin chimes in, his voice shaking.
"Don't let go." Gus moves quickly, scrambling to the front of the car, where he climbs up the hood. He pauses at the windshield and tries to gauge how to get to the roof. His legs dangle over the edge and Brian winces when he almost slips, but he makes it to the top in one piece. "It gets clearer the higher you hold it," he whispers, gently taking hold of the monitor.
"Be careful," Brian warns.
"I've got him." Justin moves to the front and crawls up the hood, finally crawling up next to Gus on the roof and supporting his tiny frame.
Gus raises the monitor above his head. The noise coming from it intensifies. It sounds like a conversation, albeit one in another language or something communicated by machines.
Brian curses and clamors to join them on top of the car roof. It jostles slightly, creaking under their collective weight, but nothing else happens. He slips an arm around Justin's shoulder, scooting them both closer to Gus. "Here," he says, trying to bring Justin around him, when the sound changes again.
"Stop!"
They stop. All static from the monitor is gone, and they are left with two very distinct metallic tones.
"There are two of them talking."
The three of them sit there in silence and listen to the monitor. The tones are the same, but the pattern keeps changing, the pauses between them becoming shorter and shorter, the volume increasing. They turn clipped, almost angry.
There is a sudden, violent click, and then they're gone.
"They hung up," Gus whispers.