---Old, creepy, and quiet.

That's how most ex-lookouts described this watchtower. It wasn't bad by any means, cool, sturdy, oddly charming. But it was a bit damp, and creaky. Being the middle of the summer, the A/C was buzzing away in the small, cramped cabin space of the tower. An easy job for anyone, really. This was how you decided to spend a few days every week of your summer. The sun had set over an hour ago, packed bags were lazily set next to the bed as crickets chirped in the forest below. It was a beautiful night, with the moon hiked high, the trees touching the stars. You knew what to expect after driving half an hour out here yet again. It was your third week, so you felt like you had it down. Even if it was uneventful, it was nice. A much needed brain-break from the cacophony of stress and unnecessary noise that was young adult life.

There was little campfires scattered about the park areas, so far away, they looked like still lightning bugs, glowing warm and bright. Soon enough, the peace was interrupted when the radio hummed to life as a familiar voice cracked through the dated speakers.

"Hey, Tower Two, Emma here. Just clocked in. Hope you can hear me! Hah, I..think I hold this button down..anyways, yeah. I'm here. Over."