Highway from Hell
Chapter One
Blond headed, blue eyed, six foot, seventeen year old Joe Hardy took his tray and sat down at the end of the first long table he came to. This was his third day at the Edna Dulcimer Foundation where he had been admitted to undergo detoxification for a heroin addiction he had been forced into when he had been kidnaped by drug dealers. They had hoped to get him dependent on them but his father and brother had rescued him and admitted him to this rehab center.
"Hey Blondie!" an obnoxious short brown-haired girl yelled down the table at him as he sat down. She was only sixteen but had been in rehab four times already.
"Hey Toots!" Joe yelled back. "Whose heart you after today?" he added, referring to her reputation of being a heart-breaker.
"Only yours Brat," she shouted, giving him a smile. "Come on down," she added. "I saved you a seat."
"I'm cool," Joe told her, shaking his head and causing a lock of his hair to fall across his forehead. He picked up his fork and stabbed what looked like meat loaf. He'd been puking since he got here and his stomach was screaming for food. He made a face at the meat and crammed it into his mouth.
"Cardboard," said a voice to his left. Joe looked over at the nineteen year old blond headed guy beside him. "It taste like cardboard. Everything here does," he told Joe, his green eyes taking in Joe's puzzled expression. "I'm Dave," he introduced himself.
"Joe," Joe said, acknowledging the introduction with one of his own. "How long have you been here?" he asked.
"This time around, I'm on my fourth day," Dave answered. "I'm outta here soon though. My agonies are over."
Joe knew he was talking about the withdrawal sypmtoms. "Have you met Ken?" Joe asked.
"The freakazoid?" Dave retorted.
"What's his beef?" Joe demanded, a shake of his blond head. "I stay in bed an extra ten lousy minutes and he's on my case."
"Don't sweat it," Dave advised. "He does his best to get everyone out of here."
"So he hates all of us bedbugs?" Joe asked, referring to himself and his fellow addicts.
"Nah," Dave denied. "Ken used to be a junkie. He knows the score. He also knows the sooner you start acting semi-normal, the sooner you get out of here."
"So, in a few more days I'm clear," Joe said.
"No way, man," Dave told him with a shake of his head. "This is your first time, isn't it?" he asked. "How long were you using?"
"Not long," Joe admitted. "My folks put me in here just a few days ago. How could you tell?" he asked.
"Detox last ages kiddo," Dave told him. "This part is only the beginning. After you leave here you've got to fight off the cravings and drop your friends."
"Forget that!" Joe exclaimed, scowling.
"That's how most of us feel," Dave concurred. "Which, I'm told, is why most of us are repeats."
Joe shoveled a couple more bites into his mouth then he put his fork down. His appetite had vanished. "I'll see you later," Dave said, getting up and taking his tray to the counter after dumping his trash.
Joe followed Dave to the counter and emptied his tray into the trash and set it on the counter. As Joe made his way to the door, Toots came running up behind him. "Hey Sweetie," she said.
"What do you want?" Joe asked, trying to sound harassed.
"I've got something for you," she whispered mysteriously. "Meet me at the swings in twenty minutes," she said before she left the cafeteria.
Stepping outside, Joe blinked at the bright sunlight. He reached inside his shirt pocket and withdrew a pair of cheap sunglasses Frank had brought him when he had visited yesterday. Slipping them on, he slowly made his way to the swings which stood near the six foot wire fence surrounding the grounds. He sat down and waited to see what Toots had for him.
As he waited, he thought back to his brother's visit yesterday. A year older with brown hair and brown eyes, Frank took his responsibility as older brother very seriously. The ordeal Joe was presently going through was nothing compared to the way Frank felt. He was convinved Joe's addiction was, in a way, his fault for not being there when he had been taken. Joe had been grounded from working on a case involving half a million dollars, smuggled diamonds, and drug dealers. While Frank and their father, world famous private investigator, Fenton Hardy, went on a sting, Joe had been left home where he had been kidnapped.
During his captivity, Joe had been given several injections of heroin. Enough to put him through physical withdrawal when the injections ceased. What Joe knew, but his brother nor parents knew, was that Joe had, using the term the junkies gave it, honeymooned. He hadn't been on it long enough to form an actual addiction.
While in Bayport Memorial after having been rescued, he lay, semi-conscious, while Sergeant Con Riley had entered his hospital room and spoke to his family about the case. The person or persons responsible for supplying the drugs had eluded capture. When he had a seizure at the hospital later that night and Frank had been forced to leave the room, Joe had convinced the doctor to let his family think he was a full-blown addict. His brother would never have have allowed Joe the opportunity to go in undercover as an addict.
Joe scowled, berating himself for the look of sadness on Frank's face yesterday. He had almost caved in and told Frank the truth but he hadn't had a chance to make any connections. He'd been too ill. Yesterday afternoon had been his first real opportunity to meet anyone. If he could just keep it a secret from Frank until he was released, then he was sure he could convince him and his father to let him keep up the charade until they got at the suppliers.
He looked up as he heard footsteps approaching. He saw Toots, her blue eyes hidden beneath a pair of dark sunglasses much like Joe's own, walking towards her. She sat down on the swing next to his.
"Well?" he asked impatiently as she started swinging and never spoke.
"I noticed you been bangin' it in," she said.
"Huh?" Joe asked in confusion.
"You know. In the arms," she said with an air of superiority. "You're new at this."
"Yeah," Joe admitted with a sigh.
"You should try chasing the tiger instead," Toots told him. "Less noticable." He looked at her and cocked his head to one side. "Smoking it," she said in exasperation. "If you weren't so cute, I'd give up," she told him. "Look," she said, slowing down and coming to a stop. "I've got a couple of hits stashed. I'm leaving in the morning so uh... you can have one."
Joe's mouth curled into a smile. "Really?" he asked.
"Yeah, well," she said. "It's not a lot but it'll help you get through the rest of your imprisonment here."
"So, uh...where'd you get it?" he asked, knowing the patients were searched not only on admittance but at least twice a day thereafter.
"A friend," she said, smiling at him.
"Do I get to pay you back?" he asked her.
"Mmm-hmm," she agreed. "You get out in a few days, right?" she asked.
Joe shrugged. "Guess so." He wasn't sure exactly how long he was in for.
"My real name is Terri Mavis. I'm in the book," she told him. "Call me when you get out?"
"It may take a day or two," Joe told her. "My man was busted so I gotta find a new one."
"No sweat, Sweets," she told him. "I'll turn you on. Meet me outside the cafeteria half an hour before lights out," she told him. "We'll take our G-shot and be cool for a bit," she added, before she left.
Joe sat on the swing, wondering what a G-shot was and how he was going to fool Toots into believing he was taking it.
Chapter One
Blond headed, blue eyed, six foot, seventeen year old Joe Hardy took his tray and sat down at the end of the first long table he came to. This was his third day at the Edna Dulcimer Foundation where he had been admitted to undergo detoxification for a heroin addiction he had been forced into when he had been kidnaped by drug dealers. They had hoped to get him dependent on them but his father and brother had rescued him and admitted him to this rehab center.
"Hey Blondie!" an obnoxious short brown-haired girl yelled down the table at him as he sat down. She was only sixteen but had been in rehab four times already.
"Hey Toots!" Joe yelled back. "Whose heart you after today?" he added, referring to her reputation of being a heart-breaker.
"Only yours Brat," she shouted, giving him a smile. "Come on down," she added. "I saved you a seat."
"I'm cool," Joe told her, shaking his head and causing a lock of his hair to fall across his forehead. He picked up his fork and stabbed what looked like meat loaf. He'd been puking since he got here and his stomach was screaming for food. He made a face at the meat and crammed it into his mouth.
"Cardboard," said a voice to his left. Joe looked over at the nineteen year old blond headed guy beside him. "It taste like cardboard. Everything here does," he told Joe, his green eyes taking in Joe's puzzled expression. "I'm Dave," he introduced himself.
"Joe," Joe said, acknowledging the introduction with one of his own. "How long have you been here?" he asked.
"This time around, I'm on my fourth day," Dave answered. "I'm outta here soon though. My agonies are over."
Joe knew he was talking about the withdrawal sypmtoms. "Have you met Ken?" Joe asked.
"The freakazoid?" Dave retorted.
"What's his beef?" Joe demanded, a shake of his blond head. "I stay in bed an extra ten lousy minutes and he's on my case."
"Don't sweat it," Dave advised. "He does his best to get everyone out of here."
"So he hates all of us bedbugs?" Joe asked, referring to himself and his fellow addicts.
"Nah," Dave denied. "Ken used to be a junkie. He knows the score. He also knows the sooner you start acting semi-normal, the sooner you get out of here."
"So, in a few more days I'm clear," Joe said.
"No way, man," Dave told him with a shake of his head. "This is your first time, isn't it?" he asked. "How long were you using?"
"Not long," Joe admitted. "My folks put me in here just a few days ago. How could you tell?" he asked.
"Detox last ages kiddo," Dave told him. "This part is only the beginning. After you leave here you've got to fight off the cravings and drop your friends."
"Forget that!" Joe exclaimed, scowling.
"That's how most of us feel," Dave concurred. "Which, I'm told, is why most of us are repeats."
Joe shoveled a couple more bites into his mouth then he put his fork down. His appetite had vanished. "I'll see you later," Dave said, getting up and taking his tray to the counter after dumping his trash.
Joe followed Dave to the counter and emptied his tray into the trash and set it on the counter. As Joe made his way to the door, Toots came running up behind him. "Hey Sweetie," she said.
"What do you want?" Joe asked, trying to sound harassed.
"I've got something for you," she whispered mysteriously. "Meet me at the swings in twenty minutes," she said before she left the cafeteria.
Stepping outside, Joe blinked at the bright sunlight. He reached inside his shirt pocket and withdrew a pair of cheap sunglasses Frank had brought him when he had visited yesterday. Slipping them on, he slowly made his way to the swings which stood near the six foot wire fence surrounding the grounds. He sat down and waited to see what Toots had for him.
As he waited, he thought back to his brother's visit yesterday. A year older with brown hair and brown eyes, Frank took his responsibility as older brother very seriously. The ordeal Joe was presently going through was nothing compared to the way Frank felt. He was convinved Joe's addiction was, in a way, his fault for not being there when he had been taken. Joe had been grounded from working on a case involving half a million dollars, smuggled diamonds, and drug dealers. While Frank and their father, world famous private investigator, Fenton Hardy, went on a sting, Joe had been left home where he had been kidnapped.
During his captivity, Joe had been given several injections of heroin. Enough to put him through physical withdrawal when the injections ceased. What Joe knew, but his brother nor parents knew, was that Joe had, using the term the junkies gave it, honeymooned. He hadn't been on it long enough to form an actual addiction.
While in Bayport Memorial after having been rescued, he lay, semi-conscious, while Sergeant Con Riley had entered his hospital room and spoke to his family about the case. The person or persons responsible for supplying the drugs had eluded capture. When he had a seizure at the hospital later that night and Frank had been forced to leave the room, Joe had convinced the doctor to let his family think he was a full-blown addict. His brother would never have have allowed Joe the opportunity to go in undercover as an addict.
Joe scowled, berating himself for the look of sadness on Frank's face yesterday. He had almost caved in and told Frank the truth but he hadn't had a chance to make any connections. He'd been too ill. Yesterday afternoon had been his first real opportunity to meet anyone. If he could just keep it a secret from Frank until he was released, then he was sure he could convince him and his father to let him keep up the charade until they got at the suppliers.
He looked up as he heard footsteps approaching. He saw Toots, her blue eyes hidden beneath a pair of dark sunglasses much like Joe's own, walking towards her. She sat down on the swing next to his.
"Well?" he asked impatiently as she started swinging and never spoke.
"I noticed you been bangin' it in," she said.
"Huh?" Joe asked in confusion.
"You know. In the arms," she said with an air of superiority. "You're new at this."
"Yeah," Joe admitted with a sigh.
"You should try chasing the tiger instead," Toots told him. "Less noticable." He looked at her and cocked his head to one side. "Smoking it," she said in exasperation. "If you weren't so cute, I'd give up," she told him. "Look," she said, slowing down and coming to a stop. "I've got a couple of hits stashed. I'm leaving in the morning so uh... you can have one."
Joe's mouth curled into a smile. "Really?" he asked.
"Yeah, well," she said. "It's not a lot but it'll help you get through the rest of your imprisonment here."
"So, uh...where'd you get it?" he asked, knowing the patients were searched not only on admittance but at least twice a day thereafter.
"A friend," she said, smiling at him.
"Do I get to pay you back?" he asked her.
"Mmm-hmm," she agreed. "You get out in a few days, right?" she asked.
Joe shrugged. "Guess so." He wasn't sure exactly how long he was in for.
"My real name is Terri Mavis. I'm in the book," she told him. "Call me when you get out?"
"It may take a day or two," Joe told her. "My man was busted so I gotta find a new one."
"No sweat, Sweets," she told him. "I'll turn you on. Meet me outside the cafeteria half an hour before lights out," she told him. "We'll take our G-shot and be cool for a bit," she added, before she left.
Joe sat on the swing, wondering what a G-shot was and how he was going to fool Toots into believing he was taking it.