Frank poured the last of the coffee into his cup. Like his parents, he had been up all night waiting for word about Joe. Anderson had already left by the time Frank reached his office so Frank hurried to the dean's office to find his father and Chief Collig already there. They brought Ravelson up to date while they waited for his secretary to bring in the personnel files on Aliem and Anderson. Things had moved with speed after that. Chief Collig had obtained a search warrant for Anderson's home and his office, like Aliem's lab and office, had been thoroughly searched and all papers concerning Aliem's project had been confiscated and taken down to headquarters where they would be gone over by a select group of scientists for evidence of falsifying.

Fenton and Frank had returned home to await word that Aliem or Anderson had been spotted but it was almost five am and they had yet to hear from anyone. "Put on a fresh pot," Fenton suggested.

"I'll do it," Laura volunteered, rising from her chair at the kitchen table. The three had spent the first two hours in the living room before moving to the kitchen for another two. The migratory pattern had been repeated all evening and well into the morning. She put in a fresh filter and began measuring coffee.

"They have to show up sometime," Frank said for the hundredth time. He looked at his father, his soulful brown eyes begging for an affirmative response.

Fenton, losing hope himself, sighed and stared down into his almost empty coffee cup. Laura, having finished starting a fresh pot, sat back down. "Oooh!" she gasped in surprise when the phone rang. Frank was there in a second but his father had already beat him to it.

Fenton hung up and looked at Frank. "Aliem came home but he's getting ready to leave." Fenton leaned down and kissed Laura. "We'll be home soon with Joe," he promised.

Laura gave him a brave smile then turned her cheek up to accept the kiss Frank gave her before he followed his father out the door. They arrived at Aliem's street in minutes and met the officer who was across the street keeping guard. "He's been out to the car three times already," Officer Limpkin informed the Hardys. "He's packing and I don't think he's planning on coming back."

They waited until Aliem had finished and got behind the wheel of his car before they separated and prepared to follow. Frank climbed on his motorcycle and Fenton got into his car. The officer had already pulled out and was on Aliem's tail.

A little later Aliem pulled off the main highway and traveled up a gravel road. He drove a little ways and came to a stop at a cabin. Frank hid a grin as he pulled off the road and parked his cycle in the bushes. Aliem may have a doctorate in geology but the guy was so dense he hadn't once checked to see if he had been followed.

"What are you doing here?" Anderson's voice could be heard coming from the cabin as Aliem opened the door to go inside. "You idiot! Were you followed?" Anderson poked his head outside and looked around but Frank, like Fenton and the officer, were too experienced to be seen.

Frank knew Officer Limpkin would have called for back up by now but he wanted to know where Joe was before they arrived. He sneaked up to the window and peered inside. His father was behind him in no time and together they listened to the two men talk as Officer Limpkin took up position at the other window to listen.

"Relax," Aliem told him. "I wasn't followed. And what if I was, huh? This whole thing has blown up in our faces just like I predicted it would. I should never have told you about the gas."

"You didn't think it was such a bad idea when we stood to make millions out of the deal," Anderson retorted. "Besides, if you hadn't grabbed Joe Hardy, we could have gotten away with it. Fraud is one thing, kidnapping and murder is something else entirely."

Anderson's words made Frank's blood run cold. He started to bolt for the front door but was stopped by the tight grip his father kept on his arm as the men continued speaking.

"What murder?" Aliem demanded. "The kid's still alive."

"What about Craig? You killed him didn't you?" Anderson demanded. "That's why he hasn't turned up anywhere."

"I didn't touch Craig," Aliem stated, drawing himself up to look even taller than normal. "I wouldn't have bothered Joe if he hadn't followed me and heard me talking with that representative of the oil company."

"Then where is Craig?" Anderson demanded.

"How should I know?" Aliem demanded. "Joe is our concern, not Craig. I don't go in for killing either. If I did, he would be dead by now. Instead, I just gave him something to keep him unconscious for a bit."

"Not for long enough, though," Anderson commented with a grimace. "That kid put up one major ruckus last night. You should have heard him!"

"What did you do to get him to shut up?" Aliem asked, curious.

"Forget the kid," Anderson snarled. "We need to get out of here. You have the rest of the money you took?"

"Of course I do," Aliem replied. "We may have lost out on the land deal because of those brats but I earned this money."

"No you didn't," Anderson corrected him. "Falsifying your findings so you can keep getting grants and gyp the university out of a major oil field doesn't count as earning," he sneered.

"You should know," Aliem returned. "You only won that last photography award of yours because you stole the picture from one of your students."

Anderson snarled. "Let's just divvy it up and split before the cops do find this place."

"How could they?" Aliem asked airily. "It's in the middle of nowhere."

"Because it belongs to my first cousin," Anderson replied. "Don't you think they'll check on something like that when we don't show up for classes today?"

"The university wouldn't go so far," Aliem disagreed.

"But the Hardys would."

"What are we going to do with the kid?" Aliem asked, pausing as he started to unzip a suitcase.

"We'll leave him," Anderson answered. "If the police find this place, they'll find him."

"But what if they don't get here before he dies of thirst or something?" Aliem argued.

"Who cares?" Anderson retorted. "He's no longer a problem. Now give me my money so I can clear out."

Aliem opened the suitcase and pulled out some cash. As he and Anderson busied themselves counting, Chief Collig and several officers arrived on the scene. They crept closer and positioned themselves. After learning from Fenton, Frank, and Limpkin that Joe was safely in another part of the house and the men had made a full confession in their presence, although it was unknown, the chief ordered his men to move in.

Fenton and Frank hurried into the house after they were given permission and quickly made their way down to the cellar. Pushing the deadbolt back, Fenton pulled the heavy door open and Frank rushed inside, falling to his knees beside the naked, curled form of his baby brother.

"Joe," Frank said softly, reaching out and touching Joe gently.

Joe whimpered and curled up tighter. "Easy baby brother," Frank said as their father entered and took off his jacket. He wrapped it around Joe as Frank pulled Joe to a sitting position and into his arms.

Frank felt wet tears seep from Joe's face onto his shirt and his face flared red as a bolt of anger shot through him. Frank looked at his father whose murderous expression rivaled his own. Fenton rose and headed upstairs. Frank held his brother tightly as the heated voices filtered through the open door.

"What the hell did you do to my son?" Fenton demanded, grabbing Anderson by the shirt collar and shoving him roughly against he wall, one fist cocked and ready.

"Nothing," Anderson replied nervously as two of the officers present tried to physically remove Fenton from such close proximity.

"Don't give me that!" shouted Fenton, his brown eyes smoldering. "What did you do to him?!" he demanded as he was hauled back and held with both arms thrust up behind his back.

"Nothing!" Anderson repeated. "I swear!" he added, his voice raising in fright.

"Get him them out of here," Collig ordered, referring to Aliem and Anderson. "And get an ambulance here."

After Aliem and Anderson were removed from the cabin, Fenton was released and he and Chief Collig went down to the cellar where Frank was holding Joe and tenderly stroking his hair telling him everything was going to be alright. Frank looked at his father as he entered the cellar, his cheeks wet with tears. "He won't talk," Frank whispered.

"It's okay, Son," Fenton said, kneeling beside his sons and touching Joe's back gently. "You're safe now."

***

Joe was taken to the hospital and given a complete physical. Nothing could be found wrong with him except for the shock he seemed to be experiencing. After spending most of the day in the hospital for observation, Joe was taken home.

"Feeling better?" Laura asked, taking the mug from her son's hand. She hadn't been able to get him to eat anything so she had made him some broth insisting he have something before going to bed.

Joe nodded and gave her a wan smile. "Thanks," he said.

Frank looked at Joe speculatively. Joe was beginning to recover but he still seemed reserved; a word no one had ever used in reference to him before. "I think I'll go to bed now," Joe said, rising.

Frank walked Joe upstairs after his parents had given him hugs and kisses goodnight. "Want me to stay awhile?" Frank asked, prepared to spend the night in Joe's room.

"No," Joe refused the offer. "I'm fine. Really."

"What happened?" Frank asked.

"I overheard Aliem and...." Joe began but Frank cut him off.

"No. I know about that. What happened after they got you? Why were your clothes torn to shreds? What did Anderson do to you?" Frank pushed.

Joe shook his head. "I...I don't know what happened," he lied, not looking at Frank. Joe opened a drawer and pulled out his pajamas. "Can we...can we talk about this some other time?" he asked. "I'm really tired."

"Yeah, sure," Frank agreed, looking worried. "If you need anything, just yell."

"I will," promised Joe, giving Frank the best smile he could muster at this point.

Frank left Joe and went to his own room. He checked on Joe twenty minutes later, covered his arms up, then returned to his own room and went to bed. Almost an hour later, Joe quietly rose from bed and peered into his brother's room. He could make out the soft rise and fall of his chest and heard the faint sound of even breathing.

Positive Frank was asleep, Joe dressed and crept from his room. He could hear his mom snoring gently and his dad roll over as he made his way down the hall and downstairs. He turned off the alarm and exited the house. He rolled his motorcycle out of the garage and down the street where he got on and started it, sure it would not awaken them from such a distance.

Something had happened to him in the cellar. Something unspeakable. He had to know why and if there was a way to stop it from happening again. Joe headed toward Mayhem's house. He knew without a doubt his metamorphosis had something to do with Mayhem and he was going to find out what.

He arrived at Mayhem's house and went to the back door. He no longer had a key to the place so he knocked. No answer. Growling in frustration, Joe twisted the handle and lifted his fist to knock harder but dropped it when the knob turned and the door opened. Joe went inside, his enhanced senses letting him know the place was deserted without even looking. Joe moved to the basement door. It stood exposed and open. He raced downstairs. Very little remained. Mayhem had cleared out.

Joe exited the house and sat down on the steps of the back porch. He leaned against the pillar supporting the roof of the porch and stared up at the moon. A new cycle had started. A short span of time in which Joe had to track down Mayhem and get some answers.

End of Caustic Heritage.

Continues with Mythical Veracity.