Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing my story. Here is my new chapter hope you like it
Iola's Treasure 22
Joe burst up out of the ocean, salt water spewing from his mouth. High, crashing waves beat against his head and upper body, thankful that he'd remembered to wear his life jacket and was able to kick his legs to keep his head above the water. He strained his neck, trying to see over the top of the waves, finally managing to see that he'd been washed almost a hundred feet from the Sleuth.
He saw that the boat had somehow managed to right itself back up. Then his eyes began scanning the area for his brother and his friend. He began to panic when he couldn't see them.
Frank and Chet were nowhere in sight. "Oh God…help me. Oh please, Oh God... where are they?
"Frank! Chet!" Joe yelled, though he knew the howling wind would drown out his voice.
"Frank!
"Chet!"
No response.
"Frank!"
"Chet!"
Louder this time, but still nothing. The howling wind was the only reply.
"FRANK!"
"CHET!"
Joe cried out for a third time, desperation clear in his face and voice as the waves continued to crash into him. "Please, God, let them be alright." Then, suddenly, he caught Frank coming up out of the water just a few feet from the Sleuth with Chet at his side.
All at once he started laughing hysterically, tears of joy streaming down his face. But as he saw Frank grab Chet in the lifesaver's crawl, heading towards the Sleuth, Joe's joy turned to concern.
"Frank, I'm here! I'm coming!" Joe called out waving his arm to get his brother's attention, while doing his best to stay calm. When that didn't work, Joe began swimming toward his brother. Thankfully, the force of the waves helped carry him in the direction of the Sleuth. When he was about forty yards away, he began calling out to Frank, but he was still too far too be heard.
Frank hit the water hard as he plunged beneath the surface of the ocean. His momentum slowed and after what felt like an eternity, thanks to his lifejacket, he floated up to the surface. As his head broke the surface of the water, he gasped for air, coughing and spluttering as another wave hit him. Thankfully, with his lifejacket he had on he was able to kick his legs and keep his head above the water.
"Joe!"
"Chet!" He called out, trying to stay afloat. He was doing his best to stay calm, fighting the wave of panic that was waiting to burst forth at the thought of what might have happened to his brother and friend.
"Please, God, let them be alright." Frank silently prayed and pleaded. He looked in the direction of the Sleuth and noted that it had right itself back up, but then his heart skipped a beat when he spotted Chet in his lifejacket with his face in the water about fifteen feet away from the boat.
"Chet!" Frank exclaimed immediately swimming hard to his friend. Once there he pulled Chet up next to him, "Chet," He said to him. "Are you okay? Chet can you hear me?"
Chet was conscious. Frank watched as his friend spit out water and tried to talk. All he could do was nod his head to let Frank know he was alive. "Ooh my head." Chet let out a moan, finally finding his voice. "I hit my head… on the boat before… hitting the water."
"Hang on buddy." Frank took a deep breath, again forcing himself to stay calm, trying not to think about how worried he was about Joe. He gathered Chet under his arm and performed the lifesaver's crawl toward the Sleuth.
"Okay, try to pull yourself up into the boat." He instructed and began helping Chet into it. But a high, crashing waves knocked them back into the water. Again Frank came up out of the water, keeping a strong grip on the boat as well as Chet. He heard Chet moaning "my head" and glanced over just in time to see Chet let his eyes slip closed.
"No!" Frank shouted at him. "Chet stay awake!" Suddenly another wave crashed over them almost causing Frank to lose his grip on the boat, but he held on with all his strength, refusing to let go.
Then Frank heard a voice holler at him from a distance away. He turned his head in the direction of the voice. "Frank!" Relief washed over him when he spotted Joe.
"Joe!" Frank yelled back hanging on to Chet and the Sleuth. "Oh, thank you God!" Even though he was overjoyed seeing his little brother alive, he still kept his focus on Chet.
"Help me get Chet into the boat." Frank said as soon as Joe was at his side.
Without question Joe hoisted himself into the Sleuth, pulling Chet up after him; he was pulling strength from somewhere by his feet, he was so tired. Frank pulled himself up as Joe reached down to help him. They fell onto the deck of the boat and leaned back, panting, completely drenched and utterly exhausted.
"Are you okay?" Frank asked breathlessly.
"Yeah, I think so… you?" Joe replied, catching his breath.
"Yeah" Frank answered.
Then all at once Joe started crying. Instantly going into big brother mode, Frank pulled Joe to him and held him tight to his chest, without a word.
"Frank, I thought…I thought… lost you…" Joe whispered, tears running down his face.
"Joe, I..." Frank started to say, his voice heavy with emotion. As he held his little brother, Frank realized he'd thought the same. "I'm still here."
"Ooh..." The sound of Chet moaning brought the brothers' concern and attention back to their friend. Pushing their emotions aside, the brothers knelt of either side of Chet, concern painting their faces.
"Where did you hit your head?" Frank asked.
Chet reached up and he touched the left side of his head wincing at the contact. Frank brought his hand to the left side of Chet's head feeling a small lump beneath his palm. He grew concerned that Chet might have a concussion.
"My head… it hurts," Chet moaned again and closed his eyes, "need to sleep."
"No!" Frank shouted shaking him awake. "Chet don't go to sleep. You have to stay awake."
"Chet, look at me."
Chet looked up at Frank.
"I know your head hurts. But you have to stay awake." Frank said in all seriousness, and keeping his voice calm. "If you fall asleep you might not wake up".
"K… I'll try." Chet replied struggling to keep his eyes open.
Then an idea came to Frank. "Chet, sing. I want to hear you sing."
"What…" Chet looked up at him strangely.
"Sing." Frank repeated. "Just do it."
"Okay…um…" Chet began to sing the first thing that popped into his mind. "On top of spaghetti…"
"Seriously, that's the song he picks." Joe gave Frank a sour look. "I hate that song. He used to that sing silly song on camping trips when we were kids. He didn't know all the words so he kept singing the first verse over and over…."
"I don't really care." Frank said cutting him off. "What he sings doesn't make a difference as long as he stays awake". He turned back to Chet. "Chet keep singing and don't stop."
"…. All covered with cheese… I lost my poor meatball… When somebody sneezed…" Chet continued to sing.
Joe huffed and let it go. He understood what his brother was doing; the song wasn't important as long as Chet stayed alive -that was all that mattered. His thoughts quickly turn to Iola. She would be counting on him to take of care her brother. He couldn't let her down; he vowed to get Chet out if this alive. "Keep singing buddy, you're going to be alright."
"On top of spaghetti…
"Frank," Joe lowered his voice, trying not to panic. "What do we do? The island is nowhere in sight. Thanks to the big wave that knocked us out of the boat, we're in the middle of the ocean. And what's worst the wind is starting to pick up again."
"I know. Just try to keep things calm for Chet's sake." Frank's mind was racing, trying to think of what to do. He looked up at the dark ominous clouds that loomed above them. It was morning, which was a good thing; it meant they had a bit of light, in spite of the clouds. The ocean's waves continued to rock the boat as the winds picked up again. "I know somehow, some way we're going to get out of the water and Chet to a hospital."
"First, see if you can get the Sleuth started. Then get on the radio and call for help". Joe nodded his agreement, grateful that Frank was taking charge.
Hoping the survival kit they'd packed was still on the boat; Frank reached over and opened a storage compartment between the seats. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw a black backpack that contained three water bottles, granola bars, flashlights, a small first aid kit, a Swiss army kit, a signal mirror, a compass and a Mylar foil blanket. In the front pocket was a Ziploc bag which held the map to James Barmet's vault.
Frank pulled out the blanket and covered Chet with it to keep him warm. Then he used the bag to prop his friend's head up.
"…All covered with cheese." Chet continued to sing, stopping abruptly as he looked up at Frank.
"Frank?"
"Yeah?" Frank saw tears forming in the corner of Chet's eyes.
"I just want you to know…in case I don't make it…
The words sent chills down Frank's spine; he had to force himself to answer. "Chet, you're not going anywhere. You're going to be alright."
"But…if I…" Chet started to get choked up. "… I want you to know that you and Joe are the best friends I could ever ask for. We've had a lot of good times together. I've never regretted being the third wheel on all those crazy cases of yours. And I don't regret going on this one. So if I don't make it out of this…I mean if I die. Don't let Joe blame himself… and thank you for saving my life... and for being my brothers."
Tears ran down Frank's face after hearing Chet's words. "Well as one of your brothers, listen to me when I tell you, you're not going to die, not today. When we get home, there will be more crazy cases waiting for us. Joe and I will need you. We couldn't do it without our brother. You're going to be alright."
"Frank." He heard Joe call to him. "Keep singing Chet and don't stop." Frank said, quickly wiping his tears from his face.
"Thanks Frank." Chet nodded, blinking his tears away as he began to sing again. "On top of spaghetti…"
Joe came back with a grim look on his face. He whispered in his brother's ear, "We have a problem. I can't get the engine to start. I think it got flooded when the boat capsized."
"Well, I guess there's only one thing left to try". Frank answered as he pulled a flare gun out of the storage compartment. He fired several shots into the air, praying that someone would see it. Then he waited about ten to twenty minutes hoping to spot a boat. He did this a few more times he was about to give up hope when he saw something.
"Joe, I think I see a boat!" He said and pointed straight ahead.
Joe looked in the direction Frank was pointing and saw a large white boat coming their way. As the boat got closer Joe spotted two men standing on the deck of a luxurious yacht.
What is a yacht doing out here? He wondered.
"Hey help us!" Joe called out, waving his arms to get their attention. One of the men spotted them and waved back in acknowledgment.
As soon as the yacht was alongside the Sleuth, a dark haired man who Joe thought was in his early forties, called to them. "What in tar nation are you boys doing out here? Don't you know there's a hurricane coming?!"
"It's kind of a long story. A wave hit us and knocked us into the water." Frank answered, as he grabbed their bag and hoisted it over his shoulder. "Come on Joe; help me get Chet on his feet".
"Okay, come on buddy, we're getting out of here". Joe knelt beside Chet and helped Frank get him into a sitting position. Once the brothers had Chet on his feet, they moved to either side of him, to offer their continued support.
"Please make the world stop spinning." Chet murmured.
"Look, our friend Chet is hurt!" Joe said to the man, putting an arm around Chet's shoulders. "Will you help us?!"
"Yes, of course! Call me Jim!" The dark haired man said making interdictions. "And that's Marty!" He nodded to the man standing next to him.
"You boys are pretty lucky that we found you!" Marty replied "It ain't safe to be on the water!"
"I'm Joe Hardy and that's my brother, Frank". Joe nodded towards his brother.
"Hardy, is that right?!" Jim said, as a grin slid across his face, his eyes darting from brother to brother. "So you must be the infamous Hardy boys I keep hearing about!"
Frank did not like the sound of that. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him they were in trouble.
"Well don't just stand there, you idiots!" A man's voice boomed out. "Can't you see our young friends here are in need of assistance?"
Frank and Joe's faces both paled; they knew who that voice belonged to. They glanced at each other in shock. "Albert Douglas!"
There standing on the deck with his big beefy hands perched on the railing of the yacht was the big man himself. He was dressed in khaki clothing, boots and a brown fedora covering his short gray hair and a full beard outlining his rugged face. The big man was grinning from ear to ear at the sight of the two brothers.
"Well, well, well Look who we have here, Fenton Hardy's spoiled brats." Standing right beside him, looking at Frank with murderous eyes was Underwood. He was dressed more casually than his partner, wearing dark pants and a flannel shirt, instead of his usual expensive gray executive suit.
"Does the great Detective Fenton Hardy know you're out here? Don't worry we'll take good care of you." Underwood went on, "Besides, we have some unfinished business to take care of... Don't we Frankie?"
Frank had a feeling Underwood was itching to get revenge after their last encounter. Frank was more than ready to rip this guy apart for hurting Joe. He hadn't forgotten his vow to make them pay for almost killing his little brother. No one gets their hands on my brother!
Then he glanced over at Joe; his blue eyes were blazing as he directed his gaze at Albert Douglas. He knew that Joe was determined to get his own revenge for almost killing him and for hurting Hattie. Frank also knew though, that if they were going to get out of this alive, now was not the time to do anything stupid.
Frank put a firm hand on his brother's shoulder striving to keep him calm as he whispered, "Joe, keep a cool head, you hear me? Now is not the time to seek revenge. Think of Chet, he needs a doctor."
To his relief Joe began to calm down, his blue eyes never leaving Mr. Douglas. Frank swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay calm and under control. They would get out of this...somehow.
"Jim! Marty! Bring the boys aboard!" Douglas ordered. "Don't worry about your boat boys; we'll take care of it."
Once on the yacht the boys were escorted down below to a spacious sitting area. Frank quickly took in the place. There were plush white sofas, and chairs and a glass coffee table and an area with a formal dining room, sitting next to a large panoramic window that delivered plenty natural light and a stunning view of the ocean. There was another staircase that led to the upper part of the yacht.
"Jim! See to it that their friend here gets some medical attention. Get these boys some dry clothes!" Douglas said, barking out orders, breaking into Frank's thoughts. "Once that's taken care of they will be joining us for dinner."
"Dinner?" Frank repeated, exchanging looks with Joe.
"Welcome to my home boys!" Douglas announced, spreading his arms to show the entirety of his place. "Dinner will be served in an hour. You will attend. We have so much to talk about."
Distantly, Frank could hear thunder starting to rumble. Then he spotted the dark ominous clouds as he looked out the window. He could feel the waves rocking the yacht; it wouldn't be long before the hurricane hit.
The bad feeling in the pit of his stomach intensified, "Yep, we're in big trouble."