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Chapter 9

Joe raced through the trees dragging Ford behind him, the sound of the helicopter reverberating overhead. A bullet ricocheted off a tree to Joe's left. Seconds later the dirt in front of him flew up as another hit the ground less than a foot away.

'Crap! Do I have a freakin' target on my back?!' Another gunshot rang out and a tree branch fell right beside him, the leaves grazing his face. 'Geez, how can they see us through the trees?!'

Clutching Ford's arm a little tighter, Joe made a sharp right turn, plunging into a much more heavily wooded area. He zigzagged through the trees, running as fast as possible, never letting up, even when Ford stumbled. He simply hauled the boy to his feet and kept going, muttering an apology.

Finally the sounds of the chopper and the gunshots began to fade. Still, Joe's mind was focused on one goal, making sure they were so deeply hidden among the trees the people in the helicopter couldn't possibly find them. He kept running at top speed, wanting as much distance, and cover, as possible between himself and Ford and those who wanted them dead. Still holding Ford's arm in an iron grip, he immediately felt it when the young boy began to slacken. Reminded that Ford couldn't possibly keep pace with him for any length of time Joe began to slow down to a fast walk.

As soon as they slowed, Ford tugged his arm away from Joe. Breathing heavily, he asked, "Don't you…think we should…stop and…get our b-bearings before…before we go any f-further?" Ford was panting, his words coming out in ragged gasps.

Joe looked at him sharply, a feeling of déjà vu coming over him.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to…figure out where we are…and where we need to get to…instead of just…running?" Ford gasped out. He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees.

Joe felt his jaw drop slightly and narrowed his eyes. 'My God, he's a mini-Frank!'

"That's exactly what I planned to do," Joe replied somewhat defensively. "Just as soon as we were deep enough into the woods that they couldn't possibly find us. Those were real bullets they were firing at us, ya know."

Ford stared back at him. He was still breathing heavily but his face was expressionless other than one cocked eyebrow.

'Okay, this is just plain scary.' Joe felt as if he were looking at his brother in a ten-year-old's body.

"So are we?" Ford finally asked.

Joe wondered if this were a trick question. "Are we what?"

"Are we deep enough in the woods?"

"As a matter of fact, we are." Joe plopped down on the ground and shrugged out of his backpack. Unzipping one of the side compartments he pulled out a map and small GPS receiver. "Here, open that up." He handed the map to Ford as he activated the receiver.

He heard the rustling of paper as Ford sat on the ground beside Joe and spread the map out. Despite being focused on the receiver, Joe still noticed Ford hunched over the map, tracing the red line of the marker with his finger. As Joe fiddled with the receiver, trying to get their position, he felt Ford now peering over his shoulder. Just as Joe was about to consult the map, Ford pointed in a northeasterly direction.

"We need to go that way," he announced.

"How do you know?" Joe blurted out, his feathers ruffled by the knowing, matter-of-fact tone in Ford's voice. 'What is this kid, a genius or something? Since when do ten-year-olds learn how to read GPS receivers?'

"Well," Ford began seriously, "according to the GPS, we're right here." He pointed to a spot on the map. "And we need to go here." He moved his finger to the spot marked with a red 'x'. He looked up at Joe, his brown eyes serious. "So according to the information we have, we need to go northeast."

Joe stared for a moment. "Where did you learn how to use a GPS?" he blurted out.

Ford shrugged. "Frank taught me. And we learned how to read maps in geography class," he added before Joe could ask. Rolling up the map, he handed it to Joe and got to his feet. "We better get going if we want to find Frank and Jamie." The dark-haired boy stood staring at Joe expectantly.

"I was just gonna say that," Joe muttered. Shoving the map and GPS in his pack, he slung it over one shoulder and stood up. "Let's go." Before he could move, Ford turned and took a northeasterly path deeper into the forest.

Joe stared after the boy in silence and then began to chuckle. Knowing they couldn't continue to run aimlessly for very long, Ford had naturally taken charge of the situation. He'd checked the map, consulted the GPS, quickly determined which direction they needed to go and suggested they set off immediately. There hadn't been a trace of arrogance or condescension in the young boy's demeanor, just a quiet confidence. Still smiling and shaking his head in wonder at the similarities, Joe took off after the young boy. "He's just like Frank…in a midget suit!"

In three long strides Joe had reached the boy and fell in step beside him. "So, you like school?" Joe asked, as they walked.

Ford turned and looked at him strangely for a moment. "Yes."

"What grade are you in?"

"Sixth."

"What subjects do you like best?"

"Science and math."

Joe wrinkled his nose. They had not been two of his best subjects in school. "I never really got into science, and math. Math and I didn't get along all that well. History, that was my favorite. Any kind of history. European history, American history, learning about all those wars, how the really important battles were won. Oh and Greek history! All those gods were pretty cool.

"How about sports? Do you play any sports? I played a lot of sports when I was in school. Football and hockey in the fall and winter, and baseball in the spring and summer. A little bit of basketball, but I liked playing pick-up games with the guys best." Joe stopped and waited for Ford to respond.

The boy stared at Joe, his eyes small behind the wire-rimmed glasses. "You talk a lot," he stated.

Joe grinned, totally unfazed. "Yeah, so I've been told. Does it bother you? 'Cause if it does, I can shut up…I think." The last two words muttered under his breath.

"No, it doesn't bother me. Jamie talks even faster than you do." He glanced at Joe thoughtfully. "Don't you ever get tired of talking, though? Don't you ever want to just think?"

"Think? About what?"

"I don't know. Everything, anything, whatever you want to think about."

"Not really." Joe tilted his head, studying the dark-haired child.

Ford was quiet and reserved, much like Frank had been at that age, and still was at times. 'Not necessarily shy, though,' Joe mused, noting that Ford didn't really speak unless he had something to say. 'He doesn't talk just to talk, like Jamie. Or me!'

Joe smiled to himself actually missing the little blonde chatterbox and wondering if Jamie had driven Frank crazy yet with his non-stop talking. Joe felt his cheeks grow warm as he thought of himself as a child; he'd talk a mile a minute, barely stopping to breathe, driving his family nuts at times.

"Can I ask you something?" Ford suddenly asked.

"Sure."

Ford glanced up at Joe, shyly. "What's it like having a big brother?"

The question caught Joe off guard and he was silent for a moment.

"What's it like having Frank for a big brother?" Ford clarified quietly.

Joe glanced at Ford and saw something on the child's face, something familiar, something he'd seen when he looked in the mirror and heard his brother's praise or advice echoing in his ears. He sensed that Frank had had a tremendous impact on the boy in the short time since they'd met. The revelation did not surprise Joe. Frank had been having an impact on Joe practically his whole life. Yes, he could easily understand the way Ford felt and it gave him a rush of pride.

"It's great," Joe answered, his voice softening. "I mean, since he's older than me he's just always been there, ya know?" A chill raced through him as the implication of his own words hit Joe full force. He'd meant that physically Frank had always been in his life, since the day he was born. But the tumult of emotions Joe was feeling now reminded him how many times Frank had been there for him emotionally, too.

"But you guys are friends, right? I mean you seem to really like each other."

Joe smiled. "Yeah, we're best friends."

"So are me and Jamie." Ford grinned. "I hope when we're older, that we're still friends too." He stopped, hesitated, and then finished softly, "just like you and Frank."

Joe felt a warm sensation spread through him. Much too often he took the deep bond he shared with his older brother for granted, too busy living life to acknowledge how lucky he was. Feeling a little ashamed, he promised himself that when this case was over, he'd let Frank know just how grateful he was.

"I hope you are, too," Joe said, surprised at the undercurrent of emotion in his voice.

Sensing Ford needed a little solitude, and suddenly feeling as if he needed some himself, Joe fell silent. The two walked side by side for a while, then Ford slowed, looking up at Joe sheepishly.

"Something wrong?" Joe asked.

"I, uh…I…I need to…" Ford stammered, shifting restlessly from one foot to the other as he looked at Joe pleadingly.

Joe looked at him, puzzled. "You need to what?"

Ford rolled his eyes and leaned closer to Joe as if he didn't want to be overheard, though Joe wondered who he was afraid might hear them out in the middle of nowhere.

"I gotta, you know…go!" the boy whispered harshly, his cheeks reddening slightly.

"Oh!" Joe's eyebrows shot up and he stifled the urge to laugh. "Uh, okay." He stopped and glanced around, pointing to a large tree. "How about over there?"

Ford nodded gratefully and rushed towards the tree, Joe following closely behind him. Joe stood and waited expectantly, but Ford just stared at him, annoyed.

"What?" Joe said perplexed. "I thought you had to go?"

Ford gritted his teeth. "I do."

"Well?"

Ford glowered at the younger Hardy. "I can go by myself, you know."

Joe smothered another grin. "Ah, right. Sorry." He turned his back, but stayed close. While they seemed to have outrun their pursuers for the moment, Joe knew the situation could change in the blink of an eye and he wasn't about to risk losing the boy in the name of privacy.

A moment later, he heard the sound of a zipper. Ford appeared at his side. "Okay, I'm done."

Joe was about to say something when he heard a noise. He looked at Ford and put a finger to his lips. Grabbing the child's arm, Joe pulled him close and crouched down behind a thicket of bushes. Scanning the densely forested area where the sound had come from, he listened.

Almost a full minute passed in silence and Joe began to second-guess himself. 'Maybe it was just an animal.' He debated whether they should stay hidden a while longer or chance continuing on. Checking his watch he frowned; they had already lost valuable time. He was about to pull Ford to his feet, when he heard something close by; too close.

Joe cocked his head to the side and strained to make out the muted sound. 'Voices?' Barely daring to breathe, Joe listened. Seconds later he heard it again, getting closer by the second. It was definitely someone talking.

Suddenly, Ford shifted and grabbed Joe's jacket, apparently having lost his balance squatting unsteadily next to Joe. SNAP! Joe cringed as the noise seemed to echo and reverberate through the trees. Trying to steady himself, Ford had inadvertently stepped on a large, dry branch.

A heavy, unnatural silence shrouded the forest. Whoever was out there had obviously heard the snap and pinpointed their position, but wanted their own whereabouts to remain secret.

'Damn!' Joe cursed to himself. 'Can't run for it…can't stay here…' His eyes darted around, looking for an escape route. He saw nothing but dry twigs and brittle leaves in every direction. No matter which way they went, they'd leave a noisy trail in their wake. He groaned inwardly. 'We're sitting ducks…'