Joe was too shocked to move for a moment and by that time, Franc was already out of the car and two men had arrived by the passenger door. The door was opened and Joe was pulled out. "What do you want?" Joe demanded bravely as he regained his composure. It wasn't the first time he had been betrayed by a female and right now, he hoped it wouldn't be the last.
"You, of course," said a familiar looking man with red hair. Joe's gaze narrowed on the man.
"I recognize you," Joe said. "You were in the diner a couple of weeks ago when I tripped."
"Yes, and it was the most fortunate encounter I have ever had," the man admitted, smiling at him. "For it brought me, us," he clarified, spreading his arms around the group which had increased in size while they had been talking, "you."
"What do you want with me?" Joe asked, his eyes searching for an opening so he could take off running.
"All will be revealed soon enough," Joe was told. "Is Joe ready?" the red-headed man turned and asked a man next to him who Joe recognized as the clerk from the hardware store.
"Yes, Sir," came the voice of a young man Joe had never seen before. He had blond hair and blue eyes and was about the same age as Joe. He came to a stop by Joe and helped himself to the train ticket Joe had sticking out of his shirt pocket.
"You know what you have to do?" Red asked.
"Of course," the young man replied. "I take Joe's place at camp and write home once a week so they won't become suspicious."
"You won't get away with it," Joe told him. "They know my handwriting." His parents would never buy any letter from him from camp that wasn't handwritten.
"That's why I took your papers from English class," Franc informed him. "The ones Mrs. howe couldn't find. I gave them to Mike..er..Joe, to practice your handwriting." Joe felt sick to his stomach.
"That's why you set me up with Vanessa," Joe deduced in self-disgust. "So your friend wouldn't have to worry about writing her too."
"Exactly," Red answered for Francessca. He turned to look at her. "You know what you are to do?" he asked.
"Drop Joe off at the railroad station as planned and return home like everything is normal. Attend the party tonight, since I was invited, and make sure no one suspects anything. Then tomorrow, I disappear," she ended.
"Very good, my child," Red said, smiling at her. "Now, off with you, my children and play your parts well. Remember, it is for the greater good that we do these things."
Franc and Mike got in the car and took off, leaving Joe with the group of men. Red nodded his head at one of the men and he removed a bottle of chloroform and a rag from his pocket. Dousing the rag, he moved toward Joe as two men each grabbed one of his arms.
Joe tried holding his breath but the men were patient and held onto Joe until he breathed in the noxious liquid and passed out.
When Joe awoke, he sat up quickly, remembering what had happened. Major mistake, he thought, lying back down as a wave of vertigo zapped him. he lay still for several moments, fighting the nausea he felt. He tried again, more slowly. Sitting up, he opened his eyes and waited for everything to come into focus.
He looked around and saw that he was sitting on a twin size bed in a small room with one door and a window that had been boarded up from the outside. His clothes had been replaced by a long, white robe, secured by a white belt.
He stood up and moved to the door. Putting his ear against the door, he listened to see if anyone was out there. He knocked on the door. Nothing. He pounded on the door. Still nothing. Okay, Maybe I can do it. He stepped back a couple of feet, then lifted his right leg. He kicked at the door with all his might. It splintered, but held. Joe aimed another powerful kick. The door crashed open, banging into the wall behind it.
Joe exited the room and made his way to the front of the cabin. He looked outside the window and saw two men in a heated argument with several other people gathered around them listening intently. Probably the reason they didn't hear me break the door down, Joe thought. He opened the cabin door and slunk outside.
He recognized the area. They were near the lake where he and Vanessa liked to have their picnics. He knew there was a gas station only two miles away. If he could make it there, he could use the pay phone outside to call for help. He took off walking. He would have run but, like his clothing, his shoes had disappeared and the ground cover was painful on his bare feet.
"Cool party," Reggie Dawson congratulated Frank. Reggie was one of Frank's many friends who had been invited to the party at the Hardy household.
"Thanks. Mom and Dad really went all out," Frank agreed.
"Frank, can you help me bring out some more punch?" Callie called from the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Hardy had made themselves scarce after the party had started, realizing the teens were old enough to chaperone themselves.
Frank excused himself and headed into the kitchen. He picked up a bowl of punch as the phone rang. "Can someone get that?" he shouted.
"Got it!" a voice called out.
Joe was breathing heavy as he waited for someone to answer the phone. He had started running once he had hit the highway and was now out of breath. Please...please....please answer! He knew there was a party at his house tonight. He just hoped everyone wasn't too busy having a good time to ignore the phone.
"Hardy residence," a voice answered the phone.
"Tell Frank I need help," Joe burst out. "I'm at Stillman's Convenience Store on Highway 19."
"I'll take that," came a deep voice from behind Joe. The receiver was snatched from his hand and the phone was placed in its cradle.
Joe started to run away but was stopped when several men gathered around him. He turned to look at the red-headed man who had just hung up the phone. "You were right, Cameron," Red said to the man he had been arguing with back at the cabin. "We will leave immediately."
Back at the Hardy household, Frank walked into the kitchen as the phone was being hung up. "Who was it?" he asked.
"Tele-marketer," Francessca told him, shrugging and going back to join the party.
"You, of course," said a familiar looking man with red hair. Joe's gaze narrowed on the man.
"I recognize you," Joe said. "You were in the diner a couple of weeks ago when I tripped."
"Yes, and it was the most fortunate encounter I have ever had," the man admitted, smiling at him. "For it brought me, us," he clarified, spreading his arms around the group which had increased in size while they had been talking, "you."
"What do you want with me?" Joe asked, his eyes searching for an opening so he could take off running.
"All will be revealed soon enough," Joe was told. "Is Joe ready?" the red-headed man turned and asked a man next to him who Joe recognized as the clerk from the hardware store.
"Yes, Sir," came the voice of a young man Joe had never seen before. He had blond hair and blue eyes and was about the same age as Joe. He came to a stop by Joe and helped himself to the train ticket Joe had sticking out of his shirt pocket.
"You know what you have to do?" Red asked.
"Of course," the young man replied. "I take Joe's place at camp and write home once a week so they won't become suspicious."
"You won't get away with it," Joe told him. "They know my handwriting." His parents would never buy any letter from him from camp that wasn't handwritten.
"That's why I took your papers from English class," Franc informed him. "The ones Mrs. howe couldn't find. I gave them to Mike..er..Joe, to practice your handwriting." Joe felt sick to his stomach.
"That's why you set me up with Vanessa," Joe deduced in self-disgust. "So your friend wouldn't have to worry about writing her too."
"Exactly," Red answered for Francessca. He turned to look at her. "You know what you are to do?" he asked.
"Drop Joe off at the railroad station as planned and return home like everything is normal. Attend the party tonight, since I was invited, and make sure no one suspects anything. Then tomorrow, I disappear," she ended.
"Very good, my child," Red said, smiling at her. "Now, off with you, my children and play your parts well. Remember, it is for the greater good that we do these things."
Franc and Mike got in the car and took off, leaving Joe with the group of men. Red nodded his head at one of the men and he removed a bottle of chloroform and a rag from his pocket. Dousing the rag, he moved toward Joe as two men each grabbed one of his arms.
Joe tried holding his breath but the men were patient and held onto Joe until he breathed in the noxious liquid and passed out.
When Joe awoke, he sat up quickly, remembering what had happened. Major mistake, he thought, lying back down as a wave of vertigo zapped him. he lay still for several moments, fighting the nausea he felt. He tried again, more slowly. Sitting up, he opened his eyes and waited for everything to come into focus.
He looked around and saw that he was sitting on a twin size bed in a small room with one door and a window that had been boarded up from the outside. His clothes had been replaced by a long, white robe, secured by a white belt.
He stood up and moved to the door. Putting his ear against the door, he listened to see if anyone was out there. He knocked on the door. Nothing. He pounded on the door. Still nothing. Okay, Maybe I can do it. He stepped back a couple of feet, then lifted his right leg. He kicked at the door with all his might. It splintered, but held. Joe aimed another powerful kick. The door crashed open, banging into the wall behind it.
Joe exited the room and made his way to the front of the cabin. He looked outside the window and saw two men in a heated argument with several other people gathered around them listening intently. Probably the reason they didn't hear me break the door down, Joe thought. He opened the cabin door and slunk outside.
He recognized the area. They were near the lake where he and Vanessa liked to have their picnics. He knew there was a gas station only two miles away. If he could make it there, he could use the pay phone outside to call for help. He took off walking. He would have run but, like his clothing, his shoes had disappeared and the ground cover was painful on his bare feet.
"Cool party," Reggie Dawson congratulated Frank. Reggie was one of Frank's many friends who had been invited to the party at the Hardy household.
"Thanks. Mom and Dad really went all out," Frank agreed.
"Frank, can you help me bring out some more punch?" Callie called from the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Hardy had made themselves scarce after the party had started, realizing the teens were old enough to chaperone themselves.
Frank excused himself and headed into the kitchen. He picked up a bowl of punch as the phone rang. "Can someone get that?" he shouted.
"Got it!" a voice called out.
Joe was breathing heavy as he waited for someone to answer the phone. He had started running once he had hit the highway and was now out of breath. Please...please....please answer! He knew there was a party at his house tonight. He just hoped everyone wasn't too busy having a good time to ignore the phone.
"Hardy residence," a voice answered the phone.
"Tell Frank I need help," Joe burst out. "I'm at Stillman's Convenience Store on Highway 19."
"I'll take that," came a deep voice from behind Joe. The receiver was snatched from his hand and the phone was placed in its cradle.
Joe started to run away but was stopped when several men gathered around him. He turned to look at the red-headed man who had just hung up the phone. "You were right, Cameron," Red said to the man he had been arguing with back at the cabin. "We will leave immediately."
Back at the Hardy household, Frank walked into the kitchen as the phone was being hung up. "Who was it?" he asked.
"Tele-marketer," Francessca told him, shrugging and going back to join the party.