Hotline Miami Novels & Stories

Now. Tyler lunged, his Braves cap tumbling to reveal the fresh scratch on his neck—Louise’s signature. “You really think some bus’ll save you?” He spat, backing me toward the swamp. “Hank’s got five bills on your head. Five. Hundred. Dollars.” The numbers flashed through my mind—205-555-0912—burnt into my memory. Across the street, the Greyhound sign flickered—*Birmingham: 3:15 PM*. One tank of gas vs. one phone call. The social worker’s numbers slithered in my skull: *$83 to freedom. $3.49 per gallon.*

In a few minutes, I'm going to watch two people commit murder, and I'm going to help them cover it up. But maybe there's another way. I pull out my cell phone with trembling fingers and dial 411. "Directory assistance." "I need the emergency number for Stark Industries. It's urgent." "Stark Industries emergency line is 555-0199." I hang up and immediately dial the number, praying someone will answer at this hour. "Stark Industries emergency line, this is Janet." "This is Dr. Carmen Martinez at St. Mary's Hospital. I have an urgent message for Tony Stark regarding Lily Morrison. She's in immediate danger. Her husband is trying to kill her tonight at 1247 Elm Street. Please send help immediate

Sheila POV My phone rang at three in the morning. I fumbled for it in the dark, heart already racing. Nothing good ever came from calls at this hour. "Hello?" "Is this Sheila Callaghan?" A man's voice. Official. "Yes. Who is this?" "This is Officer Martinez with Las Vegas Metro Police. We have a lady by name Zuki Mason, in custody. She listed you as her emergency contact." My stomach dropped. "What happened? Is she hurt?"

Three voicemails. All from numbers she didn't recognize. Elena sat up, her heart already racing before her mind fully processed why. The clock read 6:47 AM. Outside her window, Chicago was still wrapped in the grey predawn light that made everything look washed out and tired. She opened the first voicemail. "Miss Moretti, this is Amanda Cross from Channel 7 News. We'd love to get your statement about yesterday's incident and discuss the ongoing gang violence in your neighborhood. Please call me back at—"

Demetrius can talk to us, but only Santino can hear our responses. Static cuts in. Then a voice - young, scared, urgent. “Can anyone hear me? We need help. My dad is hurt, and we’re locked in the house. If you can hear this, please call 702-364-7925. I repeat, please call 702-364-7925.” Matteo’s already dialing. “It’s legit,” he says. “That’s his number.“ He puts the call on speaker. “Hey, Santino. It’s Matteo. Relax; we’re here to help you and your dad. You’re not alone. I’ve got people with me, and we’re gonna get you out of there.”

I took out a $20 bill and as I walked back to the young man, I handed it directly to him. "Here's a tip for you, thank you!" "I don't need it. How about I just ask for your phone number instead!" "What? My phone number? Are you kidding me?" "I'm not kidding, ma'am! I'm serious. If your car breaks down in the middle of the road, you can call me anytime." "I can call this company number if I need help, so I don't have to give you my personal number, right?" "If you're on the night shift and your car suddenly breaks down, the only person you can contact is me, since your calls won't be answered after 7 p.m., Mrs. Karenina Meiyer!"

"The appeal was rejected. You get the house back. Maya is back in a cell where she belongs. They can't stop us now." I rested my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes. The sharp vibration of my phone inside my pocket broke the quiet room. The sudden sound made me stiffen against Elias’s chest. I sat up slowly, slipping my hand into my dress pocket to quiet the device. Elias looked down at me, his brow furrowing slightly. His arms loosened around my waist, but he didn't let go completely. "Who is calling you?" I looked at the screen. It was an unknown number, but I recognized the last four digits. It was the private line we had set up just for the newspaper's deepest investigations.

Now my sister’s truth and these bad men are pulling me deeper into darkness. “No Liam,” I whispered. “It is too dangerous. They have videos of me. Bad ones. They will use them if I do not obey.” He touched my arm gently. “I do not care about the videos. I care about you. Let me protect you Maya.” Before I could answer my phone started ringing. Unknown number. The sound made my whole body freeze. I looked at the screen with fear. Liam watched me closely. “Answer it,” he said softly. I pressed the button with shaking fingers and put it on speaker so he could hear. A strange deep voice came through.

It was Colin Palmer, Elaine's subordinate. "Ashton, are you kidding me? How could a main city road just collapse out of nowhere? Elaine just filled us in. She said you two had a fight, which is why she blocked your number. "But no matter how mad you are, you can't abuse the emergency hotline just to get us to pass a message to her, especially with such a ridiculous excuse." My heart sank at his words. "No! I'm not lying to you! Listen to me, I'm at—"

Hopefully, no one is hurt. I open the news to see if anything is being reported about this, but I find nothing. I decide to call my parents to check on them since I don't know where they are. Thankfully, both of them are alright. I open the news again and find out that it's a terrorist attack in one of the very lively areas in Miami. Many enterprises have their headquarters in this place. Quickly, I get out of the office and tell my PA to dismiss everyone. This is an emergency and people won't be in a good state to work. They will feel safer at home. Even if we are away from the explosion with a safe distance, the event is startling.