Part 3

Taylor's P.O.V.

I shouldn't have yelled at Jeremy. He's one of my best friends. I'm just so stressed out and worried about Hayley. I'm nearly at the house when Jeremy calls me back. I spin around to see him holding his phone.

"It's Hayley," he yells, "she called me!" I gasp and run back to him. We can barely hear her, the signal is awful here.

"Hayley? Can you hear me?" I shout desperately into the phone. She says something back, but the line is breaking up.

"Tay... help... brick house... rag..."

"You're breaking up!"

"Please... a man... someone... footsteps... closer!"

"Hayley!" She says two more words. Two words that send a jolt through my body.

"He's coming."

And then there's a terrible scream. And the line goes dead.

I look at Jeremy.

"We can't stop looking for her. We need to get torches, and warm clothes and come back and look to see if we missed anything. Even if it's so unlikely for her to be there, we look. Somebody is hurting her, Jerm. And we can't let that happen. But if all the police are here, whoever's got her is going to hear them, and possibly move her somewhere else, somewhere even more hidden, so we need to come back when they're gone." I look around at all the officers. They seemed to be getting ready to leave.

"We get everything we need, then we'll come back and we'll save her," I say. Easier said than done, I think. She could be anywhere... no! Think positive.

"And... Jeremy... I'm sorry for shouting at you. I had absolutely no right to do that. It's just with everything going on--"

"I know. But you're right, I don't know what it's like for you. I can't just assume what other people feel."

"So we're good?"

"We're good."

I smile. It feels odd under circumstances like these, but it lightens the mood, I guess. We all need laughter in our lives at times like this.