Not Going Home Alone

Zach’s POV:

“Morgan, did you get the text from Brooklyn?” I yell from halfway down the sidewalk.

“Yeah. Both of them.” She is running out of the apartments as I’m running toward them.

“What does it mean?” I don’t know what she’s trying to say, but I know the first one wasn’t from her.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure, but I know it’s some kind of code. Judging by the capital letters, I would say they stand for different words than what she typed.” We go up to her place and she grabs paper.

“Alright, there’s H M I W K. Morgan, do you have any clue?” I feel so stupid and useless right now.

“I’m going to say the I should remain I. Heat and help both have the h and e in the same place, so let’s go with that.”

“How are you figuring all of this?” She's like a super genius right now.

“I’m guessing, Zach, and it would help a lot if you participated.”

“So, we have Help and I. The last word could be know.”

“Let’s go with that for now. The second word is me. So we have help me I something know.” When she says it out loud, it sounds really stupid.

“The last word isn’t know.” She gets out her phone. “What are you doing?" The phone isn't going to help us.

“Telling Cameron to get over here. We have to figure out what this says because I know that first message wasn’t her.” He runs in and takes the sit next to Morgan. They really are cute together.

“The next to last word has to be was.” Morgan and I look at him.

“Why do you say that?” Morgan asks him.

“Because you have Help Me I, so it only fits.” Morgan writes it in. The three of us stare at it for a minute.

“Kidnapped!” We all yell at the same time. My poor Brooklyn was kidnapped.

“We have no idea where she is or how she is. Obviously she’s fine since she texted us, but that doesn’t help much.”

“Does her phone have a tracking device?” I look at Cameron. Of course it does.

“You, Cam, are a genius! She told me she just started using it.” I run to the phone store and tell them to track her number.

“Are you a family member?” The lady asks me.

“No, I’m her caring boyfriend.”

“We can’t do it without family, or someone else on the plan.” The woman has no facial expression. She is a total robot.

“But she’s the only one on her plan.”

“Then we need her permission to track it.”

“She was freaking kidnapped! You can find her if I ask you to!” This woman has no heart.

“Oh, so you’re a cop now?” She is giving me attitude.

“I will get the police if that’s what you want.”

“That would be great, sir.” She walks away from the computer and in to a back room. Fine, she’ll get exactly what she asked for.

“I’ll be back and the cops will have the paper thingy to make you tell me where my girlfriend is. Then I’m suing you!” The manager runs out.

“No need to sue, sir, what can I do for you?” It’s sad when this is how you get what you want in today's society.

“I need to track my girlfriend’s phone. She sent me a text saying that she’s been kidnapped.” He types the number in and writes the address down.

“There you are, sir. Have a wonderful day and good luck to you.”

“I’m coming for you, Brooklyn.”

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