I wake up slowly, my head hurting from the night before.

I didn’t think I drank that much, but apparently I did. I keep getting ghostly images of approaching those two guys, with their creepy smiles and that PBS hat. I was so happy when Henry came to my rescues, but things didn’t go as well as I had hoped.

After that, we had a few more drinks, and things get even hazier. I remember walking back with the crew, talking and laughing with Trace, and eventually collapsing into my bed.

I get up and groan a little bit. I’m so stupid for getting that drunk…. but I had a lot of fun. I didn’t expect to really enjoy the crew like this, and I’m pleasantly surprised. I thought making these serious journalistic pieces would be all work and no play, which would be okay with me, but it’s not like that at all.

This is a weird little dysfunctional family. And I love it.

I get up, brush my teeth, shower up real fast, and get some clothes on. As I leave my door, I practically walk directly into Henry as he walks in front of my door and toward the elevator.

“Morning,” he says to me, stopping and grinning at me.

“Morning,” I say to him. “Don’t be so loud.”

“Feeling a little crappy?” he asks.

“A little,” I admit. We walk side by side and get on the elevator together, riding it down to the lobby.

We get coffee in a comfortable silence and take seats over by the big windows. It’s empty and the rest of the crew is still sleeping. We don’t have any concrete plans for today, but I’m not totally worried about that. I take out my laptop and open a blank Word document.

Starting a new story is always the hardest part. Once I get the opening down, the words always flow, but it’s the beginning that always gets to me.

“Staring at the page, huh,” Henry says to me.

I look up at him and shrug. “Guess so. I figure I’ll get started on the written part.”

“Good idea.” He glances out the window. “The guys are going to be restless today.”

“Might be too hungover to care,” I say, remembering the shots they were doing.

“Might be,” he concedes. “But I should think of something to keep them busy. We’ll get some B-roll and grab some local sounds, I think.”

“Sounds fun,” I say. “Am I invited?”

He laughs. “Always,” he says. “But I don’t think you’ll be interested. It’s just a lot of driving around, filming random stuff, and getting yelled at by people.”

“Sounds like a great time.”

He laughs and leans back. As he goes to sip his coffee, his phone starts to buzz on the table next to him. With a frown, he picks it up and checks the screen.

“Local number,” he says.

I raise an eyebrow. “Could be…?”

He shrugs and swipes to answer. “Hello?”

I watch his face and can only hear his side of the conversation, but it’s clear that something’s weird. “Yeah, this is Henry,” he says. “Sure, I remember. Max from last night. Sure, I remember John.” Henry pauses for a second and his eye narrow. “Are you positive about that?” he asks. “Could he just be somewhere…” He trails off, listening again. “Okay. We’re at the Holiday Inn, you know the one?” He sighs and fidgets. “Okay, okay. Call the police. I don’t know what else we can do.” Another long pause. “I can’t do that.”

And then the guy hangs up. My heart is hammering in my chest by the time he looks at me, clear worry etched in his expression.

“Was that one of the guys from last night?” I ask him.

He nods. “Seems his buddy went missing. Not answering his phone, car missing from his driveway, house all locked up.”

“He could have just left to go somewhere,” I say slowly.

“Didn’t seem to think that was the case. Honestly, he seemed scared.”

I raise an eyebrow. “The Strips?”

He nods slowly. “I think so. I don’t know if they took the guy or what, but Max wasn’t willing to call the cops. He warned us to back off and leave town or else.”

I shake my head, totally shocked. I can hardly believe this. It seems fake, like the sort of thing you see on a cheesy TV show. I can’t imagine a gang would have enough power in this town to make someone disappear only hours after talking to journalists.

“It’s not like they told us anything,” I say.

“Doesn’t matter, I guess. Seems that just being near us is a bad thing.”

“And how did they even…” I trail off.

“Probably following us,” he admits. “Or maybe just had some guys at that bar, who knows. We can’t go back there now.”

“Shit,” I say, at a total loss. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Things are getting dangerous.”

“We need to call the cops.”

He shakes his head. “You can’t.”

“Why not?” I reach for my phone, head buzzing, a rolling fear starting to stir in my gut. “If that guy’s in trouble, and his friend is afraid, we need to call someone. We have to help.”

“Viv,” Henry warns.

“It’s our fault,” I say fiercely. “It’s our fault if this guys is in trouble.”

“Viv,” Henry says more softly. He reaches out and gently takes my hand. “Take a deep breath.”

I stare at him for a second and anger flares. But just as quickly it dies down as I realize that I’m terrified and not thinking. I take some deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. Henry sits there and watches me.

“Good,” he says. “Now look at me. I’m not taking any risks, okay? You and the crew are more important to me than anything else.”

“We can’t just abandon them,” I say to him.

“We’re not, I promise. But in this town, we can’t trust anyone.”

It slowly dawns on me what he’s saying as he stares into my eyes. I shake my head, not wanting to believe him. “They’re the police,” I say.

“They’re people,” he replies quickly. “And people are susceptible to corruption, especially in a place like this.”

“I know you mentioned it before, but…” I trail off.

“I know. I don’t want to imagine that the police could be corrupt, but we know better. We’re journalists. There are so many instances of dirty cops all over this country, especially in small towns where money goes a long way. I’m not saying they’re all dirty, but I guarantee there are some bad ones, and we’ll probably get them.”

I sigh and lean back in my chair. He lets go of my hand and I slowly put my phone back down. I still want to call the cops, or do anything, but I know that he’s right. Henry wouldn’t just leave these guys in trouble if there were something he could do, especially something as simple as making a phone call.

But he’s right, as much as I hate it. There could easily be some bought-off cops, and as soon as we make a call, they’ll be on us like flies on honey. Once that happens, this story is dead, and these people will continue to suffer.

“So what do we do?” I finally ask him.

“Right now, nothing,” he says. “We don’t have enough information. I told Max to come meet with us, but he said he won’t. He has our number. I suspect we’ll be hearing from him again.”

“So we sit here and wait,” I say softly.

“No. You get to work on the article and I take the guys out to get B-roll footage. We keep on going, Viv.”

“Just like that?” I ask him.

“Just like that,” he confirms. “What else can we do? It’s not like we’re backing down.” He grins at me and I grin back.

“Good point.” I sigh and sip my coffee. He stands up and stretches.

“I’m going to go check on them,” he says. “Make sure they’re all alive. Stay in here, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, watching him as he turns away.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this worried before, but this is what I wanted. This is reality. I wanted to get into the shit, go where the real stories are. I didn’t expect to get thrown into danger on my very first assignment, but I couldn’t avoid it forever.

It makes me think Henry is that much stronger. He’s been through this sort of thing before. He’s been in danger researching the story. I haven’t done anything in my life, just a bunch of easy pieces for the New York Times and Buzzfeed.

I want to prove to everyone that I belong at WBN. I’m afraid, my heart’s beating hard in my chest, and I want to call the cops, but I know I won’t. I trust Henry too much to do that.

Part of me wants to run, but I’m going to ignore that part. I’m going to see this thing through because that’s what a journalist does. I’m going to get the story and make a difference, no matter what.

So what if a few dangerous gangbangers want to run us out of town? No big deal. We can handle them.

At least I hope so.