Morse Code Numbers Novels & Stories

“Wait a minute. We know her phone’s passcode, right? We can figure this out.” He looked at all of us. “My sisters used to create their passcodes by turning their names into numbers. Maybe K did the same.” We all nodded. I repeated the passcode out loud. “11… 9… 1… 18… 1.” Marcus quickly typed the numbers into his laptop. Then he pulled up an alphabet chart. “A is 1… B is 2… C is 3…” he muttered as he matched each number to a letter. The room fell completely silent as we watched him translate the code.

The signal gauge flickered once—dead, alive, dead again. We moved closer. The plaza where the survivors had gathered last night was almost empty now; most had gone to scavenge. The sky was warming to gold. I crouched beside a burnt drone carcass and pressed the receiver against its shell. The static roared to life, then settled into a rhythmic pulse. Lena’s breath caught. “That’s a pattern.” I nodded slowly. “Morse. But not random.” “What does it say?” I translated in my head. A-D-R-I-A-N.

His father hadn’t talked to her for nearly a month… and though there were a few messages here and there, that wasn’t what caught his eye. ‘It’s over. Please don’t use the kids as an excuse to appear before me again. Maison won’t miss you, nor will he need you. Please don’t contact him again. C’ ‘Got it. I apologize for the inconvenience. C’ …Both messages had ended with a ‘C’ at the end. Though ordinary people would’ve assumed that they were simply typos, those who dealt with computers would definitely understand that the ‘C’ was an error code. To be more precise, there were issues with the messages during the transmission process!

The town has this mystic old-style vibe like it's stuck in the 50s. "Code 00-17-1 in Narrow River. I repeat, 00-17-1 in Narrow River." The radio buzzes and the almost robotic female voice of the dispatcher follows. I've never heard this code before, it's in no book I've read. But even so, neither Jamie nor another patrol from the area seems to care. Jamie just keeps driving, as if the dispatcher never called. "What's this code? I've never heard of it." "You know all codes?"

I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life being someone’s bitch in prison. I fingered the card in my pocket, eager to leave this space and be far away from here. Maybe I needed rest, I just have to trust Benjamin, he said he would take care of it, right? Or was I being delusional? I ripped the card from my pocket and dialled the number. It hummed once...twice before it crackled to signal that the other person was listening. What was the fucking code again? “1-5-3-0.” I stated crisply and breathed into the phone; it crackled again and went dead. I peeled it from my ear and stared into the screen. Should I call back? Was that the right code? Was I to say something more?

This black is a bit more red, the other black has more blue in it. "Dots and slashes," Clark smiles. "You have a beautiful brain, My Love." She blushes prettily, making her appear at least 10 years younger, like a coy student instead of the powerful fashion executive that she is. Something about my brother softens her and it is sweet to see how in love they are. Together, the two of them crack the rest of the code. We now have a list of supplies and two sets of coordinates. The set buried in the morse code discovered in the stationary was accompanied by a very simple bit of code that all sailors know:

She is a one tough person, reminds me of someone I once knew, Asher. I and Mercury were assigned to stand with the President during his few minutes speech. The Ashock Leyland driver and his company also went to were they were asked to position. Moses is a skilled driver and he was to be trusted. The eight of us had our code for communication, unit one to four, each unit with two Soldiers also in the code, rain and shine. * Rain. Shine. Units * Arms. Gal. 1 * Mercury. Helion. 2

He looked at the camera with bruised and bleeding face. "10-32... 10-33... 10-0... Code 3, silence 207... " our eyes widened. "Hey, what are those numbers? You counting already? No need, you'll die soon anyways! But we will play with you first!" "01000111... 01110010 01100101 01100101 01100011 01100101... " Shit. He knows how to code!? "He's in Greece." I said followed by a yawn. I shake my head. You just woke up, self. You're sleepy again?

He was holding an old, hand-cranked radio transmitter that was spitting out a mechanical Morse code from the north. "𝗠𝗮𝘆𝗮," Vane said, his expensive suit soaked with salt-rain as he stumbled out onto the concrete."𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗱. 𝗜𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗭𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗵. 𝗜𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗹𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗹 𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗱. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝘁�

I almost smile. Almost. Because all I can think about now is Quincy wheeling past those gates, sunlight hitting his skin, freedom finally touching him… …and me hoping like hell he keeps that letter safe. Especially the number at the bottom. 143. His inmate code. And if his smart ass is able to encode that properly. I think it would spell out what I've never gotten the chance to tell him. One, for “I.” Four, for “Love.” Three, for “You.”