Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the canon book characters, and am making no monies from this story. Any Original Characters belong to the author(s).

Note: This story was written around the year 2003, so technology is not as advanced as it is today. People still used landlines! Also it was originally co-written with another person, to whom I give much credit for the plot, and unending thanks.

Thank you to Max2013 and Cheryl for their kind reviews!

APRIL SHOWERS

By EvergreenDreamweaver and Sparks JSH

Chapter 2

"What?" Frank leaned against his brother's shoulder, craning his neck to see into the cockpit. "Whaddya mean, it's not Jack?"

"It isn't Jack," Joe repeated. "It's – it's a girl!"

"A girl!" Frank caught his breath. "Omigosh – Joe, it's not…is it – April?"

April Wayne…Frank's thoughts tumbled. Jack's little sister. He recalled becoming acquainted with her when Jack had been teaching him to fly. She had been learning at the same time, and a friendly competition had developed between them as to who would gain the coveted pilot's license first. Of course, it makes sense that she'd be flying for Jack's charter-cargo service….

"April?" Joe's voice was blank for a moment. "Oh, yeah, Jack's sister." Thought of her as a little kid – what was she, two years younger than me? Always tagging around after Jack and Frank – and staring at me! Hmmm, she'd be about 16 now…. "Yeah, I think it's her." He wedged himself into the crushed cockpit and crouched beside the pilot's seat. "April? April, can you hear me?"

The girl's head lifted slightly; rolled in the direction of his voice. "Wha—"

"April, it's Joe – Joe Hardy. Remember me? Open your eyes for me, honey."

She blinked, attempting to focus on him, her hazel eyes filled with pain. "Joe? Is it really you? How – where'd you come from?" Panic suddenly flooded her voice, and she gripped Joe's arm tightly with her left hand. "Joe, get me out of here, please; I don't want to die! It's going to explode…!"

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay." Joe covered her hand with his own reassuringly, noting with relief the strength of her grip. "Frank's here too; we'll get you out. It's not going to explode; fire's out. Just take it easy for a minute." He studied her situation and winced; a jagged piece of metal had embedded itself in her right leg, just above the knee, and remained there, holding the leg immobile. Blood stained her black jeans. "You've got a piece of metal in your leg, April, but I'm not going to try getting it out just yet."

"Fine by me. That sounds painful." She attempted to smile, but failed. "Joe, I can't move my right arm."

"Frank, can you find a first-aid kit?" Joe said quietly over his shoulder. "I think we're going to need it." He felt the pressure against his back ease as Frank moved into the plane's rear section to begin his search. Joe turned back to the cockpit, studying April's arm. It was wedged tightly between the yoke and the instrument panel. "Is it just pinned, April, or injured?"

"Both." Tears trailed down her face. "I felt and heard the bone crack, in the crash."

"Let's see if I can give you a little wiggle room…." Joe tested the cracks in the panel, attempting to break some pieces free. April flinched, but Joe's efforts paid off; in a few seconds he'd gained her possibly a quarter-inch maneuvering room. "Now let's try…I'll be as gentle as I can. Go ahead and scream, if it helps."

True to his word, Joe was as gentle as possible as he extricated her arm from its trapped position. April's face paled and her jaw tightened, but she did not cry out, although tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Attagirl," Joe gave her a reassuring smile. "Okay, try to just cradle it against your chest. Frank should be back with that first aid kit in a minute."

"I'm here," Frank announced, leaning over Joe's shoulder once again. "How is she?"

April gritted her teeth against another wave of pain. "Don't think you have to lie to him, Joe, just because I'm right here."

Joe looked directly into her eyes as he answered his older brother. "She'll be okay. She's broken her arm, and she has a cut on her head. I'm going to need a hand here – there's a piece of metal in her leg. We have to remove it to get her out of the plane, and it's going to bleed. Have some four-by-fours handy."

Frank reached into the first-aid kit and grabbed a roll of sterile gauze, and a package of four-inch gauze pads. Ripping open the plastic binding, he edged around Joe. Although Frank normally had a strong stomach for blood, he felt a little queasy at the sight of the metal impaling April's right leg.

Joe took a deep breath and gently gripped her leg with both hands. "Okay, April – on the count of three I'm going to pull your leg free." He hated this, knowing how much it was going to hurt her, but he realized there was no other choice.

April's face was pale and sweat stood out on her forehead, mixing with the blood which had dripped from the gash. "Don't count, Joe. Just do it and get it over with," she groaned.

"Okay, if that's the way you want it. Be ready with that gauze, Frank." Before he said the last words, he gave her leg a sudden yank, pulling it free of the metal. Despite any brave intentions of not yelling, April screamed at the sudden pain.

Frank immediately pressed the thick bandage against the wound that was now bleeding heavily. Joe grabbed the roll of gauze and wrapped it around the padding; holding it firmly in place. April's screams diminished into sobs, then abruptly ceased. Joe gave her a quick look, alarmed by the sudden silence, and was worried by the grayish pallor that had come over her face. Her eyes rolled backward.

"April, stay with us;we're almost out of this. April!" Joe sharpened his tone as he repeated her name, hoping to shock her back to consciousness. She whimpered softly, and her eyes fluttered open once more. "You're doing great, April, just hang on another minute."

He noticed that blood was already soaking the bandage on her leg, but there was nothing more he or Frank could do while she remained where she was. Joe glanced up at Frank, and the older boy nodded and tilted his head toward the back of the plane. They had no choice; they would have to move April out of the cockpit onto the ground outside so they could effectively treat her injuries. Very carefully, Joe unfastened the seat belt and disentangled it from her, and removed her headset.

Frank eased one arm behind her back and the other beneath her legs. "April, I'm going to pull you to me, okay? You just relax, and let me do all the work." With slow, gentle moves, he pulled her against his chest, as Joe supported her from the other side. The girl had to bite her lower lip to keep from screaming as the movement jarred her injuries.

Finally she was free from the seat. Frank cradled her in his arms, bending low. Joe led the way out of the plane, pushing aside anything that might trip his brother and cause April more pain. Her head lolled against Frank's shoulder, and she moaned softly with each breath. Passing a broken-open compartment, Joe snatched up the blanket trailing from it.

"Here…it's fairly flat." Joe indicated a spot on the ground and hastily cleared away bits of plane wreckage, then spread the blanket out. He slid his arms under April's limp body, helping Frank ease her down. "April? Honey, you still with me?"

"Yes…." The word was a mere breath of sound, but as April realized she was finally released from her prison, she opened her eyes and tried to smile. "Thank you…." The words broke off suddenly, and she cried out in pain once more.

"What? What's wrong?" Frank gasped, alarmed.

April clutched at her right side. "Hurts…" she moaned. "Don't – can't lie – down…"

The boys exchanged glances. "Ribs?" Joe whispered, and Frank nodded tentative agreement.

"Let's prop her up – there, move the blanket over there—" Frank indicated a large rock close to the edge of the pond. "Put your backpack against that rock, and then spread the blanket over." He scooped April up once more and moved her to the relocated blanket. Together, he and Joe eased her down into a reclining position, then tucked the edges of the blanket about her.

"Is that okay, April?" Frank bent close, speaking softly.

The girl was extremely pale, but she managed a wan smile. "Yeah…it's just great," she whispered. "I'm sorry to be – so much trouble…."

"Hey, no trouble at all." Joe grinned at her. "Frank loves to show off all the stuff he learned in his Advanced First Aid class." He didn't bother to mention that he had exactly the same information at his fingertips; they'd attended the classes together.

"Speaking of advanced first aid, let's see what we can to do patch you up," Frank suggested. He unfolded the lower portion of the blanket and checked the bandage on April's leg; to his dismay, it was already soaked through with blood. "Joe," he summoned his brother quietly. Joe leaned, looked, and winced, then went back into the plane to retrieve the first aid kit.

Using fresh four-by-four pads and more of the roll of gauze, the brothers re-bandaged April's leg wound. She couldn't stifle whimpers of pain as Frank wound the gauze about her leg and fastened it securely.

"I'm sorry, kiddo; I know it hurts," Frank tried to soothe her. He found a chunk of wood and propped her leg on it, hoping the elevation would slow the bleeding.

Joe, meanwhile, had found a towel in the plane, soaked it in water from the lake, and was gently sponging the blood from April's face. The cut at her hairline had nearly stopped bleeding now, but her hair was matted with coagulating blood, and an occasional trickle slid down the side of her face. When he had gotten as much of the dried blood off as he could, the younger Hardy laid a smaller gauze pad against the cut and wound more gauze about April's head to hold it in place.

"You're beginning to look like an extra from a war movie," Joe teased her gently. "Bandages here, bandages there…."

"I feel like I've been through a war," April said weakly. She tried to shift position a little, and winced. "My arm is really beginning to hurt," she admitted.

"Jeez, I'd forgotten about your arm!" Joe carefully loosened the blanket he had tucked about her so assiduously. "Frank, are there any such things as splints in that first aid box?" He asked the question without much hope of an affirmative reply; he knew they weren't standard issue.

"Nope," Frank sighed and felt in his pocket for his knife. "I'll smooth down some sticks. There's plenty around, at least."

"You – you're not going to – try and set it – or anything…are you?" April asked apprehensively.

"Not a chance," Joe assured her. "We'll just splint it and let the doctors set it at the hospital. Once it's immobilized, it shouldn't hurt you too much, so long as you're careful not to bounce it around."

"Hospital?" April spoke wistfully. "How am I going to get to a hospital?"

"Never underestimate the Hardys." Frank smiled warmly at her as he knelt beside Joe, holding several thin, flat-edged pieces of wood. "As soon as you're settled, and we've done everything we can to make you comfortable, one of us will head back to where we've parked our van. We have a cell phone there, and we'll call the county sheriff's department for an airlift." He sighed. "I wish we had the phone here – but it wouldn't have worked anyway; North Woods is sort of a dead zone. That's why it's locked in the glove compartment."

"And the other will stay here with you," Joe chimed in. "Okay, let's get these in place." He lifted her arm gently, and held it so that Frank could lay his improvised splints against her lightweight jacket sleeve, then secure them with more of the rolled gauze. When the procedure was completed, Joe wrapped April snugly in the blanket again, and patted her gently before rising to his feet. "You just take it easy now, all right?"

"Okay….Oh, hey – could I…is there…any aspirin in that box?"

Frank tilted an eyebrow dubiously and mouthed Should we? to Joe. Joe looked indecisive, then nodded, and rummaged for a package of Tylenol.

"These'll be okay," he murmured to Frank. "I know it's iffy to give her painkillers, but I'm not going to sit here and watch her hurting and not do anything about it!" He knelt beside April once more and uncapped his water bottle. "Here you go, kiddo." He helped her to swallow the gel caps, then offered the water again. "Try and drink some more, even if you don't feel thirsty."

"I am thirsty," she admitted. She snaked her good hand from beneath the blankets and took the bottle of water from Joe. "Just let me hold it; I promise I'll keep drinking."

Frank stood now, and pulled off his backpack. "I'll make the trip to the van," he offered, taking a few items from the pack and slipping them into his pockets. "You'll be okay here?"

"Sure." Joe walked with him to the edge of the trees. "You sure you know the way? We didn't exactly follow a trail here."

"We may not have followed one, but we sure left one," Frank chuckled. "We mashed enough stuff for a herd of elephants!" He clapped his younger brother on the shoulder. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Take good care of April." Joe nodded soberly, and watched as Frank trotted off through the trees.

When Joe returned to April's side, she opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Alone at last," she quipped weakly.

"Hey, I love being in a secluded forest with a pretty girl," Joe responded, his deep blue eyes twinkling. "You doing okay now?" he then asked her gently.

"It's not too bad – as long as I don't move…or breathe too deep." She blinked drowsily. "Is it okay if I sleep for a while?"

"Mmmm…why don't you try and stay awake? With that bang on the head… Come on, talk to me. Help me out, here….tell me what you're doing flying your brother's cargo plane."

"I'm a licensed pilot," she said, somewhat defiantly. "Jack needs all the help he can get, and I work for a lot cheaper than he could hire anyone else."

"Aren't you still in school? I don't remember seeing you around, in the halls…." He considered her as he spoke. Light brown hair, hazel eyes, regular features – admittedly somewhat marred by the current circumstances – not as tiny as Megan; not as tall as Vanessa, probably about 5'6 or so. Slender athletic build, her legs long in proportion to the rest of her body.

She chuckled ruefully. "Joe, I'm a sophomore. You're a senior, and one of the Big Wheels in school. Just how likely are you to notice me in the halls? That is, unless you and your friends are sizing up and rating all the girls in the freshman and sophomore classes."

Joe blushed to the roots of his blonde hair at her blunt – and accurate – assessment. "I don't do that!" he protested.

"You don't? You're in the minority, then." She smiled at him sympathetically. "I heard about Iola's death, Joe. I'm so very sorry."

Joe looked down at the ground. "Yeah…yeah, it – I'm sorry too." He squared his shoulders and met her gaze. "But it's over and done with…and I don't take part in those ratings sessions you're talking about…Vanessa would kill me!"

"Vanessa? Who's Vanessa?" she asked, almost sharply.

"Vanessa Bender…you may have seen her at school…really tall, long blonde hair, able to work magic with computers – drives a red Jeep Wrangler?"

"Oh – yes, I have seen her. She – you're dating her now?" There was a very wistful expression in April's hazel eyes as she asked the question, but Joe didn't notice.

"Uh-huh. For about a year now." He reached over and snugged the blanket more tightly about April's shoulders. "You warm enough?"

"Yes….Are Frank and Callie Shaw still dating?"

Lord, more girl-gossip! Joe mentally rolled his eyes, but answered her question. He wanted her to stay awake, after all, so he couldn't complain about her choice of conversation. "No, Callie is going to college in Colorado, and she has a boyfriend there. Frank's involved with – darn near engaged, I think! – a girl he met at school this year. Her name is Megan Wright. She didn't go to high school in Bayport; she used to live in New York City."

"Really?" April's tone was both awed and somewhat saddened. "I thought Frank and Callie would be together till the end of time!"

"Yeah, I guess a lot of people thought that." Joe got up to check the bandages on April's leg, and scowled when he saw bloodstains seeping through the padding again. "April, will you kill me if I slice your pant leg open?"

She sighed. "These are my favorite jeans, but I don't suppose I have any choice in the matter, do I? Go ahead."

The first-aid box held a pair of sharp scissors, which Joe used to cut the fabric from the hem to where the bloodied cloth had been shredded by the metal fragment. He undid the bandages and frowned at what was revealed. "This needs stitching; just bandages aren't going to do the trick."

"Oh no!" April propped herself painfully on an elbow. "First aid classes or no first aid classes. I don't care if you're Dr. Mark Sloane or Georgio Armani, you are not going to sew up my leg out here in the middle of the woods!"

Joe cocked a quizzical eyebrow. "Armani I know, but who the heck is Mark Sloane?"

April groaned. "Joe Hardy, don't you ever watch television? He's a doctor who moonlights as a detective!" A lopsided smile showed. "Whereas you're a detective who seems to be moonlighting as a doctor at the moment!"

Joe began to laugh. "Well, don't worry! I wasn't intending to try stitching you up! But somebody will, eventually." He applied another bandage to the cut and re-wrapped her leg once more. "We got sidetracked, April; you were starting to tell me about you flying for Jack, remember?"

"Oh – that's right." She settled back carefully, letting Joe tuck her into the blankets. "I fly cargo and charter runs for him in the afternoons and on weekends. I arranged all my classes so that I'm done at 11:00 every day. By noon I can be at the airstrip."

"I see." Joe nodded his understanding. "Jack's business going okay? I mean, if he needs you to do runs, he must be busy, right?"

"Yeah…." April sounded doubtful. "We have two planes now…had two, I mean!" She looked over at the crumpled aircraft and her voice choked with tears. "Jack is absolutely going to go ballistic about this!" There was pain in her eyes that had little to do with her injuries. "He'll never forgive me for wrecking one of his planes."

"He'll go ballistic until he knows you're all right. Then he'll be too relieved to be mad," Joe assured her.

"You haven't seen Jack lately, have you?"

"No, I guess I haven't. Why?"

"Because everything is bottom-line with Jack now. If it costs money – or doesn't make money – it's a waste of time." April's tone was bitter. "He's changed, Joe."

Joe searched for a suitable reply. "I guess owning your own business might do that to you," he admitted. Although I never thought it would affect Jack like that!

April closed her eyes, effectively shutting down the conversation. Joe was willing to let her rest, although he knew he needed to keep her from falling asleep. He drew up his knees and rested his chin on them, staring thoughtfully at the smashed-up airplane. I wonder what caused the crash in the first place? It sounded like some sort of explosion…I'll ask Frank when he comes back, what he remembers about it.

After letting ten minutes or so elapse, Joe reached a hand to April's shoulder. "April? You still awake?"

"Mmmm." She didn't open her eyes.

"April." He shook her just a little. "Wake up, kiddo."

Slowly the hazel eyes opened and focused on him. "I'm awake…what's wrong?" She gazed at him blankly. "Joe Hardy? What're you doing here?" She blinked at her surroundings. "What am I doing in the woods?"

Uh-oh! What happened here? She was fine a little bit ago…! Joe laid his hand on her cheek, and found her skin cool and clammy to the touch. "April, don't you remember? The plane crash?" He slid his hand downward and pressed his fingertips against her carotid artery, finding the pulse there disquietingly rapid and weak.

"The plane crash…oh – yeah, I remember now. I'm sorry, Joe." Suddenly, she began to shiver. "I'm so cold…."

Oh Lord, she's going into shock! "I'll get another blanket from the plane, April. Just hang on for a minute; I'll be right back." Joe hurried into the tail section of the downed craft, trying to recall exactly which compartment had held the blankets. Frank, get a move on; get some help here! This is turning into a Situation, with a capital "s"!

In a flurry of impatience, Joe yanked at the various compartments, looking for additional blankets. Finally his search was rewarded, and he pulled out one, then another. He bundled the blankets into his arms, and reached to shove the compartment closed…and froze, one hand outstretched.

What the…? Joe leaned closer, hardly breathing. At the back of the storage unit, effectively hidden from view until he had taken away the concealing blankets, there sat two rectangular shapes. Each a little larger than a brick, perhaps…securely wrapped in heavy clear plastic…deadly in their pure, snowy-white beauty.