CHAPTER 7

"Come on, Frank! Step on the gas!" Joe urged.

"You wouldn't want us to get a ticket, would you? And why did you ask me to drive in the first place?" Frank snapped, glancing at the needle in the speedometer that was nearing the speed limit.

"Because you're a good boy, and the police already knew my reputation with cars. They wouldn't let me go easily if I got stopped," Joe grinned devilishly.

Frank just shook his head wearily. "Sometimes I wonder why you didn't think ahead like this in other situations."

"I use it only when you're being too ignorant."

Frank shook his head again, trying to figure out about his brother. Sometimes he knew his brother very well, but other times, there was an element of surprise that would burst out inconsistently from him.

The van was moving along Shore Road, on its way to Liz's house. When Liz suddenly was cut off from the phone connection, Joe had a feeling something bad had happened to her. He almost had to drag Frank out of the house when he described to his brother about the phone call.

The sky had turned dark, and Frank flicked on the overhead lights.

"There's no police watching," Joe retorted. "So, you can speed up."

"Right. If I get the ticket, I'll tell them I was driving under your influence."

Soon, they arrived at a residential area without any police car tailing them. Frank slowed down, trying to find Liz's street.

"There! Lilac Street!" Joe pointed at a street on his right.

Frank stepped on the brake, and steered the van to the right. "Number 2223. Here we are," he said a minute later, stopping the van in front of a modest and small single-story bungalow.

"I think we're just in time. Look!" Joe pointed to his side window as he climbed out of the van.

Frank could see a glimpse of two people in dark clothes, struggling to drag Liz down the driveway. Without wasting time, he climbed out and ran toward the figures in dark clothes. Joe was already tackling with one of them.

Frank pulled the other man away from Liz. Caught by surprise, the man staggered forward, and almost landed on the concrete pavement. He suddenly lashed out his leg and gave a kick toward Frank.

Frank sidestepped away instinctively. Then the masked man leaped up to his feet gracefully. Something told Frank that he was facing a pro. The next few minutes he was in defensive mode as he tried to block kicks and punches the man threw at him.

Meanwhile, Joe ducked when the man he was fighting with threw a punch at him, and he reacted by slamming his fist against his midsection. Whoa, this guy's built like bricks. Why do I always get the big one? The masked man grunted, and staggered slightly, but he launched a hooking punch at Joe's head. Acting faster than his opponent, Joe ducked under the punch and fired off his own attack to the thug's lower ribs. The man momentarily backed away, clutching his side and his eyes flaming with hatred, but he wouldn't give in so easily. A forward kick to a nicely situated pressure point in the thigh caught Joe off guard. Joe felt his knees buckled, and dropped to the ground. The thug continued his assault as he gave a swift karate kick toward Joe until he was thrown against something metallic – a trashcan. The trashcan made a loud clanking sound as it crashed to the ground along with Joe. The noise pierced the peaceful silence like a gunshot.

"What's going on out there?" a new voice suddenly bellowed from next door.

Almost immediately, lights started flickering from the neighboring houses.

"Let's beat it!" the masked man said to his friend, who was still struggling with Frank in a tight lock.

Frank suddenly was overpowered as the two men grabbed him and threw him until he landed on his back next to Joe. That's going to be the third bruise in three days. I'm making a record here.

"Are you all right?" Frank quickly asked Joe as he struggled to get up. He heard sounds of running footsteps, and the sound of a car door being closed.

"Yeah, I'm going to have a pretty design on my back by tomorrow," Joe grimaced, rubbing his back.

Frank spotted Liz, standing at the entrance, frozen in shock. "Liz, call the police!" Then he dashed down the driveway. "We still can catch them, Joe!" he urged as he helped his brother along the way.

Both of them quickly climbed into the van, and started the ignition. By this time, some of the nearby neighbors began coming out of their houses.

"You've seen where they went?" Joe asked, as his brother maneuvered the van violently toward the street.

"They went straight on this street," he replied, never leaving his sight from the road. He could see a dark car, racing ahead of them.

"Hey, I think that's the car!" Joe exclaimed excitedly, pointing to the dark blue Honda Frank had been eyeing.

"You know the car?" Frank stared at Joe for a moment before turning back to the road.

"It's the same car that was following me this morning," he told Frank. He explained in gist what had happened that morning.

"The plate's covered with mud, all right," Frank announced as he stepped on the accelerator.

The dark sedan continued moving through the center of town. The road was slightly congested at this hour. It was starting to get difficult following the car.

"It's dinner time. Everyone's out eating," Joe complained.

"Not now, Joe," Frank retorted.

"I wasn't thinking about food."

"Oh." Frank looked sheepish.

There was a junction ahead of them, and the light had turned yellow. The dark sedan was a couple of cars ahead of them, and it was turning left. And when the van reached in front of the queue, the lights had turned red. Another line of cars started moving through the junction before Frank could make a turn.

Frank stepped on the brakes. "Missed!" He smacked the steering wheel in frustration. He waited impatiently for the lights to turn green.

By the time it did, Frank took the same route the dark sedan had done. But he knew by now there was no sign of it. Still, it couldn't hurt to look around for a few more minutes. He checked every nook and corner of the streets, but there was no sign of the car.

"I guess it's time to go back to Liz's house. The police might already be there," Joe said, a little disappointed.

When they arrived back at Liz's house, they were surprised to see the quiet and tenebrous scene greeting them.

"What happened?" Joe asked quizzically. "Where's everyone?"

"I don't know. I don't like the looks of this." Frank looked grim.

"Are you sure we haven't suddenly been zapped into Twilight Zone?" Joe glanced at the eerily quiet surrounding.

Frank parked the van. Liz's house was dark, and there was no sign of her.

"Let's be careful, okay?" he warned Joe lightly.

Both of them stealthily climbed out of the van, and jogged toward the house. The door was ajar. Frank suddenly pushed the door open, hoping to surprise any intruder inside the house. But only silence welcomed him. He flicked on the lights.

"Doesn't look like she lives here all the time," Joe commented, taking in a single brown couch, a coffee table, and an almost empty bookcase. There was a broken vase next to the door. That must have been the sound he had heard on the phone.

"She just moved here a few weeks ago," Frank explained. He walked through the living room carefully.

"Liz?" Joe called.

Silence.

He went to the back of the hallway, checking every room, while Frank tried to spot any clues the thugs could have left behind. Frank noticed the phone in the kitchen, hanging against the wall. The receiver was still dangling from its hook.

"She's not here," Joe reported a few minutes later, coming to the kitchen. "I wonder where she went."

"The question is why did she run away?" Frank corrected. "She seems afraid of something."

"Look what I've found in her room," Joe said, handing a framed photograph to his brother.

It was a picture of a vaguely familiar teenage girl with long blond hair, and a middle-aged man, that had a slight resemblance with the girl in the picture. Both of them were smiling happily at the camera.

"Could be the girl's father," Frank commented thoughtfully. He pulled out the photo from its frame. A small writing in faded black ball pen was inscribed at the back. Liz and Dad, he read silently. It was dated eight years ago.

"That's Liz! But she's auburn-haired now," Joe exclaimed.

"She could have dyed her hair. There's nothing wrong with that," Frank told him. "Unless she's trying to disguise herself," he added after a thought.

"From whom?"

"That's what we got to find out."

"Do you think those thugs came back again and kidnapped her?"

"I don't think so. She had a lot of time to call the police, but she didn't. I think she ran away." They walked back to the living room.

Joe noticed something near the front door. It was a scrap of paper. He picked it up.

"Hey, check this out," he called as he smoothed the paper. "What do you make of it?" he asked when Frank came over. He could only read the large lettering as "EDe". It was printed like a letterhead.

"I know that logo. It's EDevices's," Frank told him. "What a funny coincidence that Phil and I are using their product in our project."

"Maybe it belongs to you," Joe handed the scrap paper to him.

"Probably, but I don't remember carrying any letters with me." He pocketed the paper.

"I think we should go home now. Mom and Dad are probably back by now," Joe suggested.

Frank nodded. "I just hope Liz's all right. She might have found valuable information about the email virus. We have to think on how to find her next."

After checking that nothing was out of the ordinary, Frank closed the door, and both of them headed for their van…unaware that a pair of eyes was watching them from afar.