Chapter 13
Joe ran down the path away from the dogs. It was several minutes before he realised they weren't chasing him. Slowly he came to a halt, gasping. Somewhere overhead, an owl hooted and Joe jumped. He'd had a bad fright and was now feeling a little hysterical. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself.
I'm okay, he told himself. I'm okay.
His heart was hammering madly and his breathing was becoming tight in his chest. Joe opened his eyes and felt the trees close in around him.
I'm okay, he told himself again.
The pain in his chest got worse and Joe felt dizzy. The shadows of the trees pressed closer.
I'm okay! I'm okay! I'm okay! Joe tried to reassure himself as his head started to pound. The woods spun and Joe found he couldn't draw breath. He was having a panic attack!
Joe tried to inhale but his chest hurt and he was shaking painfully. Stop it! Stop it! his mind yelled at him. Frank and Mom need you!
His last thought was his anchor. Keeping his thoughts on his mother and his brother, Joe slowly managed to calm down and breath normally.
Still trembling, the child started to move forwards down the path. He had to get help for his mother and Frank, he had to!
Joe's legs were shaky and weak but he forced himself to walk.
After ten minutes, Joe thought he heard something in the distance and stopped. It was the distant roar of a motor.
Joe felt excitement grow. Was he near the road?
However, seconds later, Joe saw a flash of light through the trees and froze. There was a car coming down this path!
Joe knew it had to be the kidnappers. No one else could possibly be travelling on this desolate path through the woods at this time of night. Panicking, the little boy rushed off the path through the trees. In his haste, his foot got caught in a tree root and Joe fell headlong down a steep incline. As he landed at the bottom, his head smashed into something hard. Joe saw an explosion of light and then darkness.
Frank couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see his brother lying hurt somewhere.
It had been hours since Joe had left, and Frank was thoroughly beginning to regret his plan to send Joe for help. What if something happened?
Frank sighed and turned on his side. You and your big idea! he scolded himself.
Suddenly, Frank heard the sound of a car outside. He froze as he heard loud voices enter the house. It was still night-time, what was going on?
Frank heard a murmured discussion upstairs and then the sound of footsteps coming towards the basement.
No! he thought, terrified. Don't come down here now!
The footsteps came closer. Quickly, Frank grabbed one of his pillows and pulled off his sweater. He put the pillow down between his mother and himself, then put the sweater in a ball on top. He covered the lump and tried to make it resemble Joe as best he could. Then Frank lay back down, pulled the covers up and closed his eyes.
He heard the lock turn and the door opened. Frank lay still, hardly daring to breath.
Oh please, he thought. Please…
After several agonizing seconds, the door closed and Frank heard the lock turn again. It wasn't until he heard the footsteps go back up the stairs and the murmured discussion resume once more, that he allowed himself a sigh of relief.
That was close!
Frank strained his ears to hear what was going on. A door closed and minutes later, he heard the car start up again and drive away.
Frank was confused. The kidnappers had told them they wouldn't be back that night.
What's going on? he wondered.
"What?" gasped Fenton into the horrified silence.
The sheriff shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "The blood found at the cabin had seven markers in common with your blood, Fenton. It belongs to one of your sons."
Fenton stared in shock at the sheriff as the silence in the kitchen grew. No one knew what to say.
Finally, Con broke the silence. "Fenton, it might be nothing. One of the boys could have fallen, that's all."
Numbly, Fenton shook his head. "What if they've hurt them? What if they've already killed them?"
"No way!" said Sam firmly. "They need them, Fenton, you know that. Con's probably right, one of the boys must have fallen."
"So where do we go from here?" asked Jack.
"We need to go back to the cabin," said Sheriff Coombs firmly. "That beer bottle suggests these guys are hiding out locally, so we need to find some hint or trail telling us where."
"We found nothing earlier," Tom reminded him.
"Yeah, but this time I'm bringing reinforcements," said the sheriff grimly. "You lot head down to the station. I'll meet you there in thirty minutes, I just have something I need to do first."
"Wait!" said Fenton sharply. "If someone local is involved in all this, then I don't want word getting out about what we're doing here."
The sheriff chuckled. "Don't worry, Fenton. The guy I have in mind isn't exactly big on talking!"
Half an hour later, after they had thanked Martha for her hospitality, Fenton, Sam, Con, Jack and Tom were sitting in the sheriff's office, waiting for Sheriff Coombs to reappear.
Fenton was starting to get a little apprehensive. "Con, are you sure we can trust this man?"
"Positive," said Con. "I've known him nearly as long as I've known Tom. You can trust him, he knows what he's doing."
The front door opened and a tall, thin man with dirty blond hair and a pale face walked in. He stopped dead when he saw the crowd of men clustered there.
"What's going on?" he asked in surprise.
"We're waiting for Sheriff Coombs," said Tom, a little edgily. "He told us you were out sick, Deputy."
"I was," answered the other man hoarsely. "Damned flu or something. But I felt much better today and came down to tell the sheriff that I'd be back at work tomorrow."
"And you came down here at this hour of the morning just to tell him that?" asked Sam raising his eyebrows in surprise.
"What can I say?" the man shrugged. "I've spent the last three days in bed, and I'm finding it a little hard to sleep right now."
"I can tell him for you when he gets back, Deputy," Tom offered quickly, and Fenton had the impression that he was trying to get rid of the man.
"No need," said a voice from behind the man. They all looked at the door just in time to see the sheriff enter; a huge bloodhound on a leash walked lazily behind him!
"This is reinforcements?" asked Jack, staring.
"Yup! Best bloodhound in the area," said the sheriff proudly. "Rawston," he addressed the other man. "Did I hear you right? Are you coming back to work?"
"Yes, sir," replied Rawston.
"Excellent! One more man to add to the team," said the sheriff. "I need you tonight, Rawston, I'll explain on the way."
"We're bringing the dog?" asked Fenton. "But there may be nothing of use at the cabin for him to smell."
Fenton's voice trailed off as the sheriff pulled a little paper bag from his pocket. Inside was the broken beer bottle.
"If there isn't then we've got the blood on this," said the sheriff. "It may not seem like much, but old JR can get a scent from anything." He patted the dog proudly.
"JR?" Sam repeated.
"Yeah, er…wife's a big Dallas fan," the sheriff admitted sheepishly.
The others laughed.
"Well then, let's get going," said the sheriff. "You lot lead the way in Tom's car. Rawston and JR can come with me in the patrol car. I'll explain the whole thing to Rawston on the way."
Quickly, the men climbed into their assigned vehicles and pulled out. They headed in the direction of the cabin.
Fenton remained quiet while the other men discussed the possibilities of what they might discover using JR. He didn't want to get his hopes up, there had been too many dead ends so far. He closed his eyes as he thought of his family. The idea that one of his children might have been hurt was making him sick to his stomach, and further emphasised the awful fact that these men were extremely dangerous.
"Fenton?" Sam broke into his thoughts. "Are you okay?"
Fenton smiled weakly at Sam. "I'm fine," he answered.
Sam nodded understandingly.
"You know, something has just occurred to me," said Con suddenly, from his position in the front seat.
"What's that?" asked Fenton.
"I'm supposed to be working in about two hours. How am I going to explain to Chief Collig that I'm otherwise occupied?"
Sam grinned wickedly. "Never mind that, how are you going to explain that you used his name to hire a private plane?"
"I'm hoping he won't hear about that one," Con remarked dryly. "I don't think he…LOOK OUT!"
Tom suddenly veered to the left, and they all lurched forward in their seats as the car careened wildly across the road.
A/N: Again, thank you all for your wonderful reviews. The story is finished so I'm posting a chapter a day (or at least, whenever I get the chance!), so don't worry about waiting for updates!
Paperdaises: I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and thank you for your comments on how I portray the Hardys. There's 17 chapters to this story in total, so you have a few left to read yet!
foxmask: Yes, Joe is the best, definitely my favourite Hardy brother in case you couldn't tell:)
The Silent Rumble: Thanks. It's great to hear people are enjoying the story! I know I said I don't really care for OOC but I meant over-the-top OOC, I'm okay wiht little blips now and again!