Don't Get Dead | TWD | Volume 1

[7] Some Not So Legal Activities

The group spent a few days preparing for the run to Atlanta, gathering supplies that may be necessary to get around safely. They took some of the baseball bats and packed them in the cars to use against the sick people, which confused me. I didn't understand why they were killing them. Maybe they really didn't have a choice. I had gotten past them fine through hiding and running, I couldn't judge what they had to do.

T-Dog asked Dale if he could borrow some of his tools in case they came across any useful parts or something. Dale didn't want to lend any of his tools, I could tell by the look on his face when he was asked, but T-Dog assured him that he would bring all the tools back in the same condition.

The sun was blazing down that day. I sat under the awning outside the motorhome, which was the only thing that could provide any shade at noon. As a distraction from the uncomfortable heat, I tried reading the book. Still, I could barely focus on the words without feeling nauseous. Instead, I opted to lay on the ground in the shade and covered my eyes with my arms.

Crunching in the dirt made me uncover my eyes, and I glanced over to see who it was. Shane entered a motorhome with a walkie-talkie clipped to his belt, and a huge clear container in his hands. It looked like it was filled with electrical parts, smaller tools and wires.

Curiosity took over him, and I decided to follow him. I shoved the book in my yellow bag, and chased after him. He sat down at a table, placing the box on the ground next to him then grabbed the radio from his belt and started unscrewing the shell.

My eyebrows furrowed together. "What are you doing?"

Shane kept his eyes down, focusing on the radio until the shell was completely taken apart. "I am modifying this walkie to communicate with the CB, so if anything goes wrong in Atlanta, the group will be able to contact us."

I felt my head tilt to the side. "You can do that?"

"Well, this is normally illegal, but I think that under these circumstances, it should be fine."

Illegal?

I didn't understand why a radio couldn't communicate with a CB. Actually the first time I heard that they couldn't talk with each other. Shane seemed to know what he was doing, but I was still upset with him from the other day. However, I was interested in working on a radio again. Maybe if I knew what he was doing, I could use some of the skills to fix my own walkie.

Pursing my lips, I thought carefully about my next decision. "Can you show me how to do that?"

Shane seemed a little surprised that I'd asked. He probably assumed that I wouldn't be interested. It would be a fair assumption if he didn't already know about me wanting to fix my radio.

"Yeah, take a seat."

Part of me expected him to say no, but I was glad he didn't.

"This is difficult, mind you," he said with a slight grin on his face, "you sure you wanna learn?"

I internally rolled my eyes at him. I think I'll be fine. I only nodded in reply and shuffled to the front of the seat to get a better look at the radio.

"See now, the aim is to get the radio working on the same frequency as the CB, which is around twenty-seven megahertz," Shane explained, sliding the radio over so I could see what he was talking about.

He pointed to different parts of the circuit board and radio, explaining how each part worked and what he would be doing to modify them. He would reach inside a clear plastic box every so often—pulling out random electrical or metal pieces he would need for the modification.