"Or that window," Fenton said, pointing to a small window in the back of the house. It was within reach but entering would be tricky.
"Let's give it a shot before they finish with the front and get busy with the side windows," Frank said. "You go first," he continued. "I'll keep you anchored until you can get it open and slip inside."
Frank held fast to his father's leg as Fenton edged to the window and slid it up. Guess there's no point in locking it, Fenton thought, casting a grim look at the rocks below. With a heave from Frank, Fenton slid over the sill and into the small utility room. He quickly turned around and motioned for Frank to proceed. Frank edged over and grasped the sill. His left leg swung precariously over the open expanse for a brief moment before his father started hauling him inside.
Fenton silently closed the window as Frank caught his breath. Frank's eyes narrowed as he heard muffled shouts from outside the room. "Sounds like Joe," Fenton whispered. He eased the door open and made his way into the hall with Frank at his heels.
"And you are off your rocker!?" Joe was shouting as the two neared the dining room. "There is no way! NONE!"
"You feel that way now..." the woman who was with Joe began.
"I will always feel this way," Joe informed her stonily. "I will never become a member of the Assassins, let alone the leader."
Frank gave a low gasp and gripped his father's arm tightly. That was why they wanted Joe so badly? No, Frank pushed the idea from his head. There had to be another reason. Lead the Assassins? Frank's mind screamed. The current leader must be truly insane to think for a minute that Joe would even consider being on their side. Joe would never betray his family or himself that way. He wasn't a killer. It simply wasn't in him.
"Joseph, please calm down," the woman ordered him. "I know this is sudden. To you anyway," she amended. "But it is your destiny. I wish you wouldn't try to fight it."
"I make my own destiny," Joe declared. "And you and your kind are not a part of it."
"That is where you are wrong," she corrected him. "I am very much a part of your destiny. Your future is with me. Not those Hardys. You have no place with them."
"May...maybe not," stuttered Joe, his heart breaking. "But Iola was killed because of you and I don't have a place with you!"
"There will be other girls," Laurel insisted, trying to comfort him.
"And other babies?" Joe sneered. "You took my child from me," he continued as tears began to stream down his face. "I could never forgive you for that. I would never forgive anyone for that!"
"Joe!" Laurel shouted, rising to her feet as Joe took off running through the door. She hurried after him.
"Iola was pregnant?" whispered Frank, his face white with shock. "No wonder Joe still hasn't gotten over her."
"He never told you either?" Fenton asked, looking at Frank, his own features wan from hearing the devastation in his youngest son's voice. As close as Joe and Frank were he had a hard time believing Joe hadn't told Frank something so vitally important.
"He never said a word," denied Frank. "I didn't even know they had ever..." he broke off, aware he didn't need to say any more.
Fenton closed his eyes as he replayed the conversation he had just heard in his head. You have no place with them. And Joe had agreed! A tear slipped down Fenton's face. This nightmare was getting worse.
"We had better find a place to hide," Fenton rasped, his voice thick with emotion as they heard the window breaking from the room they had just exited.
"This doesn't seem like a very safe house to me," Frank commented. A house on a cliff in a hurricane seemed like a very bad place in which to be trapped. "If there's a basement, it's probably the only safe place around and then, I wouldn't make any bets."
Fenton nodded. "Too bad we won't be able to go into the basement," he commented. "Looks like it will be full."
"Sir!" a voice called out. Fenton and Frank froze.
"Yes?" inquired the second voice.
"The shelter is ready and all of the front and side windows have been fortified," the first voice reported.
"I'll inform Laurel and Joe we're ready to leave," the second voice stated. "Have everyone report to the kitchen. We will be using the tunnel to reach the shelter."
The Hardys waited until all was quite then made their way back to the utility room. The wind and rain coming through the broken window made the air cold but they needed to stay there only long enough to give everyone time to retreat to the tunnel in the kitchen.
"We'll raid the house for supplies and then find a place to hole up for the duration," Fenton said. He dreaded the next few hours. He knew once Iola being pregnant when she died had sunken in Frank would be thinking about the rest of the conversation they had overheard. Fenton prayed the storm would be as swift moving out as it had been moving in. Staying cooped up with a son who would be angry enough to kill him wasn't his idea of conserving energy and they would need all they had to get Joe and escape before the Network could move in. He was sure the Network would arrive the minute the storm had passed over.
Frank glanced at his watch. "It's been almost thirty minutes," he said. "Think they're gone?"
"Let's try it," Fenton replied. "Just keep quiet," he added, easing the door open. The two exited the utility room and closed the door behind them. They made their way into the dining room and stopped to listen. Hearing no sound, they went through the opposite door Joe had exited earlier. Frank started to open a cabinet but froze as a part of the floor began to rise.
Fenton and Frank raced for the dining room and paused outside the door to the kitchen to listen. "Why did Lance send us back?" one of the two men who came through the tunnel inquired.
"For the pills," was the reply. "Until Joe gets used to being around he has to be given the Rhyozine."
"Isn't that what they give rowdy kids at some of the schools?"
"It's in the same family. But this stuff is stronger. He's already had three doses. By the time he's had his sixth one, he'll be so docile he'll do anything he's told."
"Wish I could order him around," the first guy said with a laugh.
"If I were you, I'd keep remarks like that to myself," he was warned. "Or you won't live to see another day."