A/N …It's a bit different then my usual stories but yeah. Lol. This story is brought to you by a combination of being trapped with no computer and no contact with friends for five days (At my Dad's house), watching a little kid movie about a magical roundabout, and flash flood/tornadoes in my area. Rain always gives me ideas. I love the rain.
Disclaimer: Do you seriously need to ask? Well…in case you do…I don't own.
Joe Hardy peered out the window of the van he shared with his brother Frank; rain was coming down in torrents and the mostly unpaved road was difficult to drive on at best. "Do you think this is going to clear up?" Joe inquired. Frank squinted finding it hard to see his mirrors were all fogged up.
"I doubt it." Frank responded. Chet, didn't the weather reports say clear skies for today?" He continued.
"Well…it said mostly clear skies with a thirty percent chance of thunderstorms." Chet replied looking slightly anxious.
"Yeah, but it said that everyday this week and this is the first time it actually rained…" Iola Morton said trying to reassure her brother.
"It'll probably clear up soon, these summer storms never last long." Tony Prito cut in from his seat next to Callie Shaw.
"I don't know; it doesn't really seem as though it's going to stop anytime soon." Biff Hooper answered; as if to voice agreement to his words lightening flashed overhead followed by a clap of thunder.
"We're probably going to be late." Phil Cohen spoke up. The Hardys and their friends were heading into New Jersey to go to a convention that was being held on techniques and gadgets used by various types of law enforcement. Frank and Joe had originally intended to go alone but had invited their friends to come with after deciding that it would be fun to spend a week or so together after the brothers wrapped up yet another case.
The hope was that they would manage to avoid any mysteries for the next few days. Not that it had ever really worked before; trouble always seemed to follow them. Silence fell upon the van as the passengers stared out at the rain pouring down on them by the bucketful. Frank turned the corner onto the next road and was midway down the street when he heard an ominous popping noise and the van swerved. A second pop sounded and Frank had to tug hard on the steering wheel to keep them from colliding head on with a large tree.
"Is everyone okay?" Frank questioned turning off the van. A chorus of affirmative responses sounded.
"What the hell just happened?" Joe wondered peering through the slightly foggy window.
"Well, I'd say we have some flat tires." Frank responded warily. "The question is how exactly did we get them…?"
"I'm going to get out and look." Joe said interrupting his brother's musings. Frank's head shot up and he glared at his brother.
"I'm coming too; with your luck you'll probably end up getting kidnapped as soon as you open the door." Frank responded. Joe rolled his eyes but nodded his assent. The others stayed in the car as Frank and Joe exited through their respective doors. Walking around to the back of the van they found that the tires had puncture holes in them.
"I'd say we either drove over something sharp or our tires got shot out." Joe mused crouching down near one of the rear tires and examining the hole in it.
"Not another mystery…" Chet said with a groan coming up behind the amateur detectives.
"…It appears so, but we should probably focus on getting out of here…" Frank answered. "We only have the one spare and two tires are out so we can hardly use the car to get out of here." Joe answered pushing a chunk of wet hair out of his eyes.
"Let's get back in the van and work out a plan." Frank suggested leading the way back to the front of the van. "Our two back tires are out." He explained to the rest of their friends upon reentering the van. "Does anyone have cell reception?" Frank inquired after a pause as everyone digested the information. There was a slight scramble as people dug through their belongings in search of their phones.
"My phone says it's roaming, and it's shut down the call section." Callie answered squinting at the screen in the darkness of the van.
"Mine's dead." Joe said sheepishly. Frank rolled his eyes; his brother never did remember to charge his phone. Frank checked his and found that he had no bars; Iola, Chet, Biff, Tony, and Phil all had the same result when they tried to use their phones.
"It looks like we're going to have to walk and find help." Frank stated.
"It's pouring rain." Callie replied.
"I know, but we can't very well stay in the van, hardly anyone comes down this road and if we stay here we've no chance of getting help. Besides if we walk a bit maybe we'll be able to find some reception further down." Frank explained. "I think I saw a turnoff for a side road a few miles back, it probably leads to a cabin or something." He continued.
"All right so it looks like we have a plan then." Tony said cheerfully.
"We have flashlights in the back." Joe added thoughtfully.
"Let's go then." Chet cut in. The eight teens piled out of the van and walked around to the back doors. Joe climbed in and emerged a few minutes later with two duffle bags filled with flashlights, flares, ropes, pocket knifes, matches, some granola bars and a first aid kit, wordlessly he passed one bag to his brother.
"All right, we're ready to go." Joe said cheerfully.
The group trudged through the mud in relative silence, the rain was still coming down as hard as before and they needed to put most of their focus on making sure they didn't slip and fall in the large puddles of water that covered most of the ground. After thirty minutes walk they reached the turnoff Frank had seen. It was a narrow road, one that certainly wouldn't have fit their van had it been in working condition. The ground was largely overgrown with weeds and the street was completely unpaved. The teens had to walk through it carefully forced to climb over the fallen limbs of several trees that obscured their pathway. After another hours walk in the rain they came to a large iron gate with the words Alea iacta est inscribed along the top.
"The die has been cast." Phil murmured.
"What?" Joe questioned.
"'Alea iacta est,' it's Latin for 'The die has been cast'." Phil replied.
"I wonder what it means." Iola mulled over the words in her mind.
"Never mind, let's just go inside." Frank answered pushing gingerly against the gate; it swung open silently despite the fact that the gate was rusty with disuse. It was pitch black other then the small sliver of light their flashlights offered. Iola tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and raised her flashlight so that the beam rested on her surroundings rather then the ground.
"I think it's an old fairground or carnival of some sort…" She said her flashlight resting upon a silent and slightly rusty carousel. Before anyone could respond the gate swung shut with a loud clanking noise. There was an audible tension in the air as Biff pushed against the gate seeing if it would open. It didn't budge…they were trapped. After a moment the fairgrounds lit up and the merry-go-round started to turn and music sounded faintly.
All around the mulberry bush
The monkey chased the weasel
The monkey thought 'twas all in fun
Pop! goes the weasel.
The music sounded faintly cutting through the night over to the teens. Iola shivered involuntarily and took a step closer to Joe who was staring at the carousel with apprehension visible on his face. It was turning slowly and the music seemed to emanate from it.
A penny for a spool of thread,
A penny for a needle
That's the way the money goes
Pop! goes the weasel.
Frank shivered but shook his head; it was just a stupid old carousel…nothing to be afraid of. As for why it had just turned on like that he didn't know, but still he knew there was a rational explanation for it. "Is anyone there?" He called. The detective received no response other then the continuation of the faint strains of the childhood nursery rhyme.
The painter needs a ladder and brush.
The artist needs an easel.
The dancer needs a fiddler's two.
Pop goes the weasel!
Chet shivered the song was really starting to creep him out. To his left he saw Tony glance over his shoulder at the gate while Biff looked around for any sign of movement. Phil, Callie, Frank, Joe, and Iola were all staring at the carousel; something strange was going on, and it was clear that they were definitely not alone at the supposedly deserted fairgrounds.
I've no time to wait and sigh.
I've no time to wheedle.
Kiss me quick. I'm off, good bye
Pop goes the weasel!
As the last verse of the nursery rhyme sounded and the song started to repeat itself; Frank was almost positive he heard the faint sound of laughter echoing throughout the deserted grounds.
All around the mulberry bush
The monkey chased the weasel
The monkey thought 'twas all in fun
Pop! goes the weasel.
A/N Seriously doesn't that song sound kind of like the monkey pops the weasel's head off or something? Review; the button which is not blue, purple, or grey but rather periwinkle likes to be pressed. Lol.