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Sam.
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Sam, come in.
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Sam please.
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Sam, answer me right now or– or I’ll eat all your Curly-Wurlies. I swear to god. Please. Just say something. Anything.
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Please.
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Sara is okay. I got her back to Maxine, just like you asked. They’re resting, now. Paula, too. They’ve got her locked up in infirmary, and they’re dosing her with tranquilizers every few hours. Just trying to keep her alive. Prolonging the inevitable.
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Sorry, that was really morbid. I just…it’s kind of hard to be cheerful right now. I don’t know how the hell you do it. No matter how bad things get, you always manage to see the bright side. Well, where’s the bright side to this? Please, Sam. I need you to tell me where it is, because I sure as hell can’t find one.
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Is this what it's like for you all the time? Because I hate it. I hate sitting here not knowing where you are, whether you’re okay. I really, really fucking hate it. Goddamnit, Sam, get back here and do your job!
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I found your mixtapes. I didn’t realize you had different ones for all of us. Some of these look really awful– does Owen really like Daft Punk that much?
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It’s too quiet in here without you
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I think I figured out how to work the tape player. I couldn’t find any tapes with your name on them, though, so I'm just going to play something. If you are still there, if you can hear this somehow, I hope you like it. It's always reminded me of you, anyway.
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I lied about eating your Curly Wurlies, before. I won’t even touch them, I promise. I’ll even go out and track down every last Curly Wurly in England if you just say something. Anything.
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You know what I really miss? Kitkats. I’ve got a whole stash of them under my bed, but I haven’t eaten any of them, because when the hell are they ever going to make them again? How long do you think Kitkats are good for, anyway? Maybe when you get back we could have a candy party– just make ourselves sick on Kitkats and Curly Wurlies. I think we’ve earned it, after all the shit we’ve been through.
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It should’ve been me.
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It should’ve been me in that building. I’m the runner– it doesn’t matter what happens to me, so long as you all get home in one piece. And I failed, and now you’re–
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I’m so, so sorry, Sam. Please, say you’ll forgive me.
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Say anything.
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You were my first friend, you know? Not just at Abel– you were my first friend period. When everything went to shit, I figured I’d be better off keeping my distance from people. Easier not to get hurt. And anyway, I was moving around too much to get attached. I wasn’t even supposed to stay in Abel that long. Just come in, set up a few new generators, and on to the next place. And even after I got the order to stay,. I figured I’d just do my job, keep my head down, and stay alive. That’s how I’d survived so far, and that was the only thing that mattered. But then you…you stayed with me, that night. I was so scared. I was sure I was going to die. But you kept me going. You brought me home. And I’m still here, Sam. Now it’s your turn. Come home.
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I should probably go to bed. It’s late, and I’m tired. I’m so tired, Sam. I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of losing my friends. I can’t…
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I don’t know why I’m still talking to you. You’re probably dead. No, not probably. You’re dead. There’s no way you could’ve survived. Best I can hope for is that I’m talking to a dead corpse, and not a live one.
But don’t worry. If you did turn, I’ll do what’s right. I owe you that much, at least.
Goodnight, Sam. I'll see you tomorrow.