Free Lost Signals by Josh Malerman, Damien Angelica Walters, Matthew M. Bartlett, David James Keaton, Tony Burgess, T.E. Grau Page B

. . . Michael shrugs   ; the movie isn’t funny, isn’t supposed to be, but it’s good . . . black and white . . . except every now and then he sees a flash of yellow on the screen, some sort of mistake on the channel’s part   ; or maybe the movie is so old that it’s hard to show it the right way, maybe it’s like a yellow stain, appearing, pulsing, rhythmically–-a commercial comes and Michael hops down off the chair and crosses the office and sits down in the bathroom . . . he’s thinking of Pamela sitting here   ; it’s too gross to get too excited but still . . . when he’s done he leaves the bathroom and on the walk back to the chair sees the yellow light is still pulsing on the television screen and something very dark swirls in Michael’s belly   ; pizza, beer, love, lust, he isn’t sure, then thinks oh no, I might know what might be making that light, that pulsing, and he turns around to face the Givens Sensor Board for the first time ever with a mind to see if it’s come to life . . .
    . . . a flashing . . .
    . . . it has . . .
    . . . it’s come to life . . .
    . . . Michael’s mouth is hanging open and he’s burning up with fear, not sure what to do , this isn’t supposed to happen this has never happened before . . . and he’s an inch from the board now, his fingertip at the blinking light, trying to determine which plot it is, who is sending him a signal, is this really happening   ?, PLOT 22, he’s checking the ledger, who is where   ?, but does it matter who it is   ? PLOT 22 is blinking, holy Christ, someone is alive out there . . .
    FLASH   !
    . . . Michael runs to the window and looks out at the greater cemetery as if the person using the sensor might be standing upon their grave, calling for a stewardess . . . then he’s back at the board and knows who it is, knows of course who it is because there’s only one body in Samhattan Cemetery that could be breathing still, only one body buried today . . .
    FLASH   !
    . . . lightning, and the mailman’s sensor, too . . .
    FLASHing
    . . . Michael on the phone, immediately, talking to the police, telling them Randy Scotts’s sensor is going off, yes, the Givens Sensor, first time Michael’s ever seen one blink, PLOT 22, yes, what am I supposed to do   ?, should I start digging   ?, do I wait for you guys to get here   ?, do I—
    FLASH   !
    . . . and the brief flat response from the officer on the phone . . .
    “Leave him.”
    . . . two words followed by something else, a barb at the dead man, but leave him is all Michael hears . . .
    . . . Michael on the phone with an ambulance now, worried that the police will arrest him somehow for disobeying ( leave him ), but what else to do, calling, frantic, getting someone on the line, someone in charge, someone to help, and that someone pauses and with no knowledge about how the police reacted, no way of knowing they were echoing the sentiments of Samhattan’s police, they repeat,
    “Leave him.”
    . . . Michael off the phone now, staring at the blinking Givens Sensor Board, shaking his head no, there’s a man out there, begging for help, isn’t dead, I can see his tombstone through the window, oh GOD HOW MUCH AIR IS IN A BOX THAT SIZE   ?   !   ?   ! . . . Michael turning to face the black and white movie but he can’t watch a movie now, can’t eat a thing, has to get out of this office, has to get . . .
    FLASH   !
    . . . on the phone with the Cemetery President . . . Bailey Smith . . . Bailey will tell him what to do . . . that he should already be doing it . . . but Bailey isn’t saying that, Bailey is talking about how some people deserve things, some people make their own beds, leave him, Michael, leave him in the box . . .
    CRACK– BOOM   !
    . . . Michael alone, more alone than before . . . feels the weight of the graveyard pressing in, like it’s crawling in through the little window, all that decay, and Michael shaking