"Excuse me?" asked the young man, not recognizing Mr. Hardy. "Surprise?"
"Who the hell are you?" demanded Mr. Hardy, his voice harsh as he glared at the youth.
"Mr. Hardy!" Mr. Jones erupted, upset by his language. Startled, the boy turned and took off running. Mr. Hardy followed and brought him down with a flying tackle. By the time Mr. Jones had reached the twosome outside, Mr. Hardy was sitting on top of the boy, his right hand clenched in a fist.
"Where's my son?" Mr. Hardy demanded, his eyes hard as steel.
"Th... this isn't Joe Hardy?" Mr. Jones asked, his voice faint as a crowd began to gather around the them.
"No, he isn't," Mr. Hardy said, getting to his feet and pulling the boy to his. "Call the police, now," he ordered Mr. Jones. Mr. Jones nodded and went back inside the office. Mr. Hardy followed, dragging the impostor with him. He shoved the boy into a chair and stood looming over him.
"What's your name?" Mr. Hardy demanded of the boy. The lad kept silent and stared straight ahead. "You're in a lot of trouble," Mr. Hardy continued. "Impersonating someone is a crime and being an accessory to kidnapping is even worse." Still the boy would not speak. "For the love of God, where is my son?" Mr. Hardy begged.
"Not for God," the boy replied, smiling.
"What?" Mr. Jones asked, looking quizzically at the boy. The boy shook his head. "Won't you at least tell us your real name so we can know what to call you?" he asked.
The boy thought it over and shrugged, deciding the police would find out anyway. "Mike Millison."
"Why did you take Joe's place?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"I want to see a lawyer," the boy replied.
"Is Joe okay?" Mr. Hardy demanded.
"No comment," Mike stated.
"Won't you tell me anything?" Mr. Hardy pleaded.
Mike looked up into Mr. Hardy's eyes. "Joe Hardy is our saint," he replied.
"What do you mean?" Mr. Hardy demanded, fear creeping into his voice.
"He is an innocent," Mike said. "His soul will be devoured as shall his blood. He will forever live in us."
"Who are "us"?" Mr. Hardy demanded, but Mike decided he had said too much. It was too much of a risk to reveal who he and his brethren were. The sacrifice must take place at all costs.
The police arrived and took the boy into custody. His things were gone through and Joe's old English papers were found along with several sheets of paper where Mike had practiced writing like Joe. Most of what was found did indeed belong to Joe, but there was also a pendant in the shape of a pentagram and several oils in small bottles which Mr. Hardy nor the police could identify. All the items, including Joe's were taken as evidence. An all points bulletin was released at once for Joe Hardy; and the FBI was called. Mr. Hardy spoke with Agent Ambrose who would head up the investigation. Ambrose suggested Mr. Hardy return home and he would be in contact with him as soon as he had interrogated Millison.
As Mr. Hardy drove home, he thought about having to tell Laura about Joe. She was already worried enough about him and Frank being on their own. When she found out Joe was kidnapped his first day away from home, he didn't know what she would do.
And Frank. Mr. Hardy gave a deep sigh. This was really going to be hard on Frank. Summer sessions at college were short and intense. After three weeks, it was time for mid-terms and he knew Frank needed this time to study, but there was no way he could withhold this information. It was with a heavy heart that Mr. Hardy came to a stop in the drive at his house.
He sat in the car for a few minutes, trying to find the courage to enter the house and tell Laura. As he waited, Frank pulled in beside his car. Getting out of the van, Frank opened his dad's car door and asked if he was getting ready to head out. "No, no," Mr. Hardy said, unable to hide the distress he felt. "I just got in." He climbed out of the car and walked with Frank inside.
Frank had picked up on his father's mood and was anxious to find out what was wrong but knew it would be better to discuss whatever it was inside. They entered the house and Mrs. Hardy, having heard the door open, came into the foyer to meet them. "Hi, hon," she said to Frank, then kissed her husband on the cheek. "I just wrote Joe a ......." she broke off when she saw him wince at the mention of Joe's name. "What is it?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What's wrong?"
"Yeah, dad," Frank urged him to tell. "You look like your lost your best friend."
This caused Mr. Hardy to wince again, only this time, he did it for Frank's sake. "You two had better sit down," he said, taking Laura's arm and leading her into the living room and on the sofa.
Frank took a seat beside his mother and looked at his father questioningly. "What is it?" he demanded. "What's wrong?" It didn't even cross his mind that something could be wrong with Joe because Joe was away at camp and they had been receiving a letter from him every week just as promised.
"It's....it's Joe," Mr. Hardy rasped out. "He's missing."
"Missing?" Frank asked. "You mean he got lost in the woods at camp?"
"I mean, he never reached camp," Mr. Hardy said, watching as their faces displayed incredulity followed by horror.
"What?" Mrs. Hardy whispered, feeling faint. Mr. Hardy shoved her head between her knees and ordered her to breathe. When she sat back up, she was still pale but no longer dizzy. "Where is he?"
"How did you find out?" Frank asked.
"I was close to the camp so I thought I would surprise him. But the boy that was there wasn't Joe," Mr. Hardy explained. "The boy who had taken his place has been there since he was picked up at the train station."
"Train station?" Frank repeated, jumping up. "Joe's been missing for three weeks!" Frank started pacing the floor as Mrs. Hardy began to weep silent tears. "Francessca!" Frank said, stopping to stare at his father. "She was the last one to see Joe. Maybe she knows something."
"Let's pay her a visit," Mr. Hardy suggested. "Will you be all right?" he asked, looking down at his wife.
She nodded her head. "Go," she told them. "You have to find Joe."
Mr. Hardy and Frank left the house. Frank had the feeling there was more to Joe's disappearance than his father had divulged and once the two had gotten into Mr. Hardy's car, he called him on it.
"You're right," admitted Mr. Hardy. He told Frank what Mike Millison had said about Joe's soul being devoured and about what a search of the personal effects of the youth had turned up.
"What are you getting at?" Frank asked, not understanding what the boy had meant or what his dad was hinting at.
"I believe Joe has been kidnapped by a Satanic cult."
"Who the hell are you?" demanded Mr. Hardy, his voice harsh as he glared at the youth.
"Mr. Hardy!" Mr. Jones erupted, upset by his language. Startled, the boy turned and took off running. Mr. Hardy followed and brought him down with a flying tackle. By the time Mr. Jones had reached the twosome outside, Mr. Hardy was sitting on top of the boy, his right hand clenched in a fist.
"Where's my son?" Mr. Hardy demanded, his eyes hard as steel.
"Th... this isn't Joe Hardy?" Mr. Jones asked, his voice faint as a crowd began to gather around the them.
"No, he isn't," Mr. Hardy said, getting to his feet and pulling the boy to his. "Call the police, now," he ordered Mr. Jones. Mr. Jones nodded and went back inside the office. Mr. Hardy followed, dragging the impostor with him. He shoved the boy into a chair and stood looming over him.
"What's your name?" Mr. Hardy demanded of the boy. The lad kept silent and stared straight ahead. "You're in a lot of trouble," Mr. Hardy continued. "Impersonating someone is a crime and being an accessory to kidnapping is even worse." Still the boy would not speak. "For the love of God, where is my son?" Mr. Hardy begged.
"Not for God," the boy replied, smiling.
"What?" Mr. Jones asked, looking quizzically at the boy. The boy shook his head. "Won't you at least tell us your real name so we can know what to call you?" he asked.
The boy thought it over and shrugged, deciding the police would find out anyway. "Mike Millison."
"Why did you take Joe's place?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"I want to see a lawyer," the boy replied.
"Is Joe okay?" Mr. Hardy demanded.
"No comment," Mike stated.
"Won't you tell me anything?" Mr. Hardy pleaded.
Mike looked up into Mr. Hardy's eyes. "Joe Hardy is our saint," he replied.
"What do you mean?" Mr. Hardy demanded, fear creeping into his voice.
"He is an innocent," Mike said. "His soul will be devoured as shall his blood. He will forever live in us."
"Who are "us"?" Mr. Hardy demanded, but Mike decided he had said too much. It was too much of a risk to reveal who he and his brethren were. The sacrifice must take place at all costs.
The police arrived and took the boy into custody. His things were gone through and Joe's old English papers were found along with several sheets of paper where Mike had practiced writing like Joe. Most of what was found did indeed belong to Joe, but there was also a pendant in the shape of a pentagram and several oils in small bottles which Mr. Hardy nor the police could identify. All the items, including Joe's were taken as evidence. An all points bulletin was released at once for Joe Hardy; and the FBI was called. Mr. Hardy spoke with Agent Ambrose who would head up the investigation. Ambrose suggested Mr. Hardy return home and he would be in contact with him as soon as he had interrogated Millison.
As Mr. Hardy drove home, he thought about having to tell Laura about Joe. She was already worried enough about him and Frank being on their own. When she found out Joe was kidnapped his first day away from home, he didn't know what she would do.
And Frank. Mr. Hardy gave a deep sigh. This was really going to be hard on Frank. Summer sessions at college were short and intense. After three weeks, it was time for mid-terms and he knew Frank needed this time to study, but there was no way he could withhold this information. It was with a heavy heart that Mr. Hardy came to a stop in the drive at his house.
He sat in the car for a few minutes, trying to find the courage to enter the house and tell Laura. As he waited, Frank pulled in beside his car. Getting out of the van, Frank opened his dad's car door and asked if he was getting ready to head out. "No, no," Mr. Hardy said, unable to hide the distress he felt. "I just got in." He climbed out of the car and walked with Frank inside.
Frank had picked up on his father's mood and was anxious to find out what was wrong but knew it would be better to discuss whatever it was inside. They entered the house and Mrs. Hardy, having heard the door open, came into the foyer to meet them. "Hi, hon," she said to Frank, then kissed her husband on the cheek. "I just wrote Joe a ......." she broke off when she saw him wince at the mention of Joe's name. "What is it?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What's wrong?"
"Yeah, dad," Frank urged him to tell. "You look like your lost your best friend."
This caused Mr. Hardy to wince again, only this time, he did it for Frank's sake. "You two had better sit down," he said, taking Laura's arm and leading her into the living room and on the sofa.
Frank took a seat beside his mother and looked at his father questioningly. "What is it?" he demanded. "What's wrong?" It didn't even cross his mind that something could be wrong with Joe because Joe was away at camp and they had been receiving a letter from him every week just as promised.
"It's....it's Joe," Mr. Hardy rasped out. "He's missing."
"Missing?" Frank asked. "You mean he got lost in the woods at camp?"
"I mean, he never reached camp," Mr. Hardy said, watching as their faces displayed incredulity followed by horror.
"What?" Mrs. Hardy whispered, feeling faint. Mr. Hardy shoved her head between her knees and ordered her to breathe. When she sat back up, she was still pale but no longer dizzy. "Where is he?"
"How did you find out?" Frank asked.
"I was close to the camp so I thought I would surprise him. But the boy that was there wasn't Joe," Mr. Hardy explained. "The boy who had taken his place has been there since he was picked up at the train station."
"Train station?" Frank repeated, jumping up. "Joe's been missing for three weeks!" Frank started pacing the floor as Mrs. Hardy began to weep silent tears. "Francessca!" Frank said, stopping to stare at his father. "She was the last one to see Joe. Maybe she knows something."
"Let's pay her a visit," Mr. Hardy suggested. "Will you be all right?" he asked, looking down at his wife.
She nodded her head. "Go," she told them. "You have to find Joe."
Mr. Hardy and Frank left the house. Frank had the feeling there was more to Joe's disappearance than his father had divulged and once the two had gotten into Mr. Hardy's car, he called him on it.
"You're right," admitted Mr. Hardy. He told Frank what Mike Millison had said about Joe's soul being devoured and about what a search of the personal effects of the youth had turned up.
"What are you getting at?" Frank asked, not understanding what the boy had meant or what his dad was hinting at.
"I believe Joe has been kidnapped by a Satanic cult."