He had cannibalized all other electromechanical devices in the bunker, ripped them apart, putting things back together again like some sort of weird Frankenstein contraption. Franklin didn't know what the hell he was building but whatever it was, it was weird; like something from an old 40's tv sci-fi show.
All the while Max was muttering underneath his breath. To Franklin it seemed like lyrics from a song, but he couldn't place it. He strolled back into the kitchen to confer with the others.
Womack glanced at Max from the kitchen; she turned back to Peters and Nestor and spoke quietly. "His mind has gone AWOL."
"I know," Peters said. "But considering we've been holed up here it was only a matter of time."
Womack knew that she too had been on edge lately, waiting, just waiting. She hated playing this waiting game.
"What's he building anyway?" Nestor inquired.
"He says a 'Transdimensional Radio Receiver'," Franklin replied.
"Poor Sarge," Nestor said. "Maybe we should just put him out of his misery."
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