Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing my story. Sorry for the delay had a lot going on and I also wanted to take my time with one. This is probably another favorite chapter, it was a fun one to write. So here it is hope you like it. Let me know what you think?
Iola's Treasure 29
"Hurricane Barmet is definitely here!"
Joe gulped nervously as he eyed the violent waves hitting different spots along the trails. The three boats that were moored on the rocks had been virtually swallowed by the ocean. All that remained were pieces of wood and debris scattered throughout the trail.
"Move it blondie!" Underwood bellowed. "Don't make me shoot you!"
Out of spite he kicked the boy on the back of his left heel, nearly sending him flying over the edge of the trail into the raging water below. He caught Joe right before he went over, "You need to be more careful. This storm is serious; it could kill you"!
Joe wiped the rain off his angry face before clenching his fists. "I'm going to hurt this jerk!"
Just then his thoughts were cut short when Frank's anxious voice rang out urgently from somewhere behind him. "Joe!" Even though the storm was making it difficult to hear anything, Joe knew he'd heard it.
"Frank!"
"I am an idiot! I left him up there alone with a murderer. How's that for protecting Frank? I have to get back up there! Joe started to run back up the hill, expecting a bullet to pierce his back at any moment, but he didn't care; he had to save Frank.
Without warning Joe was grabbed firmly by the back of his wet shirt, by someone with an iron grip which then threw him onto the muddy ground.
Underwood towered above him, rain running down his face and murder in his eyes. "Where do you think you're going?!" He began to drag the younger Hardy boy down the trail through the violent storm.
"We've got a shovel to find!"
"No!" Joe tried to rip his soaked shirt free by jerking forward but it was bunched up so tightly around his neck it made it hard for him to breathe. "This guy's crazy!" He tried to grab onto rocks and branches; anything he could get his hands on to throw at Underwood; to no avail.
But nothing seemed to faze the man, even when a rock hit him in the back; he was like a machine. He only had one mission in mind, which was to kill Joe.
"We're here blondie!" Underwood shouted to be heard over the storm once they'd finally made it to the old cabin. He violently kicked in the door and threw Joe on the floor like a rag doll.
Joe landed on the dirt floor with a thump. He just lay there, trying to catch his breath. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness he found that the cabin was divided into two rooms, both largely empty, by a tattered curtain.
The room he was in was obviously the kitchen with a rusty cast iron pot belly stove and an overturned table that was missing a leg. From what Joe could see of the other room it looked like it served as a bedroom; all he could see was a battered army cot.
The cabin felt cold and wet, with a hint of a mildew smell to it. He could hear the violent wind throwing objects against the cabin. Water leaked from the ceiling all around the cabin. The roar of the ocean was deafening not that they were so close to the beach.
"It wouldn't take much for the hurricane to destroy this place."
The door slammed shut, startling the teenager to his feet. Joe pulled down his wet shirt and watched as the crook slid a wooden latch across the door, locking them both inside. Placing an old wooden stool against the door, the crook sat down.
"Okay blondie, this is how it's going to work. You have exactly five minutes to find a shovel!" His hate-filled eyes looked right at Joe as he pointed the gun towards his head. "Bring it back here to me, before I kill you!"
"What about your precious coins?" Joe swallowed a lump in his throat and asked, stalling for time trying to think of some way out of this. "Don't you what your money?"
"Oh, I'll get my money, now find a damn shovel. You have four minutes. Get moving!"
"You really think Douglas will split the money with you?"
"He will. Three minutes."
"You're kidding yourself, if you think that's really going to happen. He doesn't care about you; the man murdered his own father for those coins". Joe tried to reason with his abductor. "You, Jim, Marty and Jennifer aren't going to see a penny of it."
"Albert Douglas is going to wipe out all of you, take the coins and sail away on his yacht. That's what's going to happen."
"Tick tock blondie, you're wasting time!" Underwood spat ignoring Joe's comments keeping his gun leveled at his head.
"Damn!" Joe exploded. He slowly backed away from the gun and began to look for a shovel. He was doing his best to ignore the water leaking from the ceiling as well as the hurricane's fury as it fought to make its way in.
He went into the bedroom area only to spot a rusty old shovel hanging on the wall above the cot. Adjacent to it there was a makeshift table with a pitcher and large bowl placed on it; beside it was a tin shaving cup with a razor blade sitting inside. A once- white towel hung above it on a nail.
Leaning against the tin cup was a yellowing photograph of a little girl of about seven in pigtails.
Hattie, he thought picking up the picture. It brought tears to his eyes, thinking about his dear friend. What if it was too late? What if she was already gone? He'd never gotten the chance to say goodbye. I'm sorry Hattie.
"Everything is in such a mess. Frank and Chet are in trouble, and it's my fault." Joe said with anger rising in his voice. "All of this is my fault."
He couldn't get the sound of Frank screaming out of his head. "Did Douglas kill my brother? Is Chet dead too? Did I bring us here to this island to our deaths? I guess one good thing came out of this, I found Iola's treasure."
"Two minutes!" Underwood hollered, breaking into Joe's thoughts. "Hurry up, don't make me come looking for you!"
"God, I'm scared. What do I do?" Then his strong and fierce father and brother came to mind and he knew what they would say.
"They'd tell me not to give up and to keep fighting. And that's what I'm going to do, for Dad and Frank. I did it the first time, I can do it again. "This could be my last chance."
Joe took a deep breath and mustering up as much courage as he could and taking the shovel off wall, he walked back to Underwood. He threw the tool at the man's feet. "Here's the damn shovel!"
"Good job, Blondie". Underwood commented coolly as he raked his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face. "About time you did as you're told. Now, I can enjoy the next part," He cocked the handle of his gun back ready to fire a bullet into Joe's head, "Watching you die!"
"Wait!" Joe shouted, holding out his hands. "If I'm going to die, I'm going down fighting." He went on keeping his voice firm and steady as he locked eyes with Underwood. "Put the gun down and show me what you're made of, man to man."
"Man to man, huh," Underwood said with a smirk as he lowered his gun. "Are you sure you're man enough to take me on, boy?"
"My name isn't blondie, it's Joe." Joe shot back cracking his knuckles. "And, yes, I am man enough to kick your ass!"
Underwood snorted back a laugh. "I'm beginning to like you, Joe. You have guts, I'll give you that. It's too bad I have to kill you."
"Shut up and fight!" Joe shouted, getting all fired up. He felt his temper starting to rise. He was ready for a fight.
"Alright, tough guy you asked for it," Underwood stood up tossing his gun to the floor. "Let's see what you've got! And as a man to a man," he added, mocking Joe's comment, "I'm going to let you throw the first punch."
"Well, in that case." Joe stated, throwing a punch to Underwood's jaw.
Underwood fell back against the door. "Nice shot, kid." He said, gingerly rubbing his cheek. "I think you could do better than that!"
"Oh, I can!" Joe lunged at the crook, aiming another punch at his face. However, this time Underwood anticipated the punch and quickly reaching forward, twisted Joe's arm behind his back.
Before Joe could move, Underwood grabbed at his shoulder, forcing him to spin into the wall. "I never said I'd fight fair", Underwood hissed as he applied more pressure to Joe's arm intent on breaking it.
"Get off me!" Joe screamed in agony as pain shot through his arm.
"Okay." Underwood said nonchalantly before hurling the boy into the overturned table.
The impact made Joe see stars. Blinking frantically to clear his vision he glanced up, while cradling his injured arm, to see Underwood towering above him, gloating.
"Is that all you've got?" he asked breathlessly, grabbing Joe by the collar and hauling him to his feet. "Come on Joe! Get up and kick my ass!" With that he belted Joe across the face, once again sending him crashing to the floor.
Joe wiped the blood off his face and glared at the man. "Go to hell!" He grunted painfully, thrusting his leg out, aiming a hard kick at Underwood's knee.
"Damn kid!" Underwood fell back, stumbling over the shovel. "Not before I kill you!" He sprang to his feet with the shovel in his hand. His face twisted into a snarl, he towered over the younger Hardy boy.
Joe's face paled as Underwood lifted the shovel above his head in preparation to bash Joe's head in. Frantically, his hands swept over the floor, searching for anything he could possibly use to defend himself. Finally, his hand found the gun; in one smooth movement he grabbed it and brought it up, aiming at his attacker.
Suddenly, the door was kicked open with great force smashing the wooden stool to pieces.
Underwood's eyes widened considerably; he had obviously not counted on anyone interrupting him. A soaked to the skin, Jim stood in the doorway, a rifle in his hand. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
"I came to get my money!" Jim exclaimed as he fired off a couple of rounds. Bang! The first one hit Underwood in the chest. Bang!
The shovel flew out of Underwood's suddenly limp hands; Joe had to move fast to avoid getting hit in the head. Underwood brought his hands up to his chest, the red blood stain spreading quickly, soaking his shirt, before as if in slow motion, he fell lifeless to the floor landing right on top of Joe.
"Good riddance, you dirty rat!" Jim smiled victoriously at the sight of Underwood's dead body. He then aimed his gun at Joe. "Where's my money, kid?"
"I don't know!" Joe shouted between painful breaths as he struggled to push Underwood's dead weight off him.
"Liar!"
"Go to the top of the hill and ask your Boss!"
I'll do just that!" Jim cocked back the handle of the gun, a maniac grin on his face as he got ready to shoot the youngest Hardy. "But first, I need to take care of you!"
"No!" Joe cried between painful breaths, trying again to push Underwood's body off of him.
"Frank...Help! I...need you!"
"FRANK!"
A heavy silence filled the room as feelings of fear mixed with sadness and anger coursed through Joe's body. All he could hear was the hurricane raging outside, on the verge of breaking in.
"This is it!" Joe realized, tears running down as he stared down the barrel of the gun. "This is how I'm going to die!" He closed his eyes waiting for death to come.
"Get away from him!" A voice growled in the darkness. Joe's eyes flew open in relief; he knew that voice.
Jim spun around to see a furious Frank Hardy, soaked from head to toe, standing behind him.
Before Jim could move, Frank sent a roundhouse kick to his face. The blow to the chin caught him off guard, causing him to drop the gun in shock before falling to the floor, unconscious.
"Joe!" Frank cried, when he saw Underwood's body lying on top of his brother.
"He's dead, Underwood is dead." Joe informed his brother. "Frank…" He started to say, but stopped as he took in his brother full appearance. "What happened to you?"
Frank looked like a drowned rat, with cuts and bruises scattered all over his face. He'd been carrying the black bag over his shoulder and his wet clothes were dirty and torn like he'd been in a fight.
"I'll tell you later." Frank pushed Underwood off his brother. "Oh God, please, no!" He knelt next to Joe, his heart nearly coming out of his chest. He couldn't take his eyes off the blood on Joe's shirt.
"It's not my blood." Joe said, wincing in pain as he slowly sat up with Frank's help.
Frank noticed Joe was cradling his left arm. "Did you hurt your arm?"
"Underwood tried to break it." Joe nodded at his attacker's lifeless body beside him. He quickly filled Frank in on his ordeal with Underwood, from him literally dragging him down the trail to them fighting to the death here in the cabin.
"What happened to you? W-where's Douglas?"
"I said, I'll tell you later." Frank snapped. Joe just stared at him in disbelief. He had a gut feeling something had happened between Frank and Douglas. "Let me see your arm."
"It's fine."
"You don't look fine." Frank argued. "Let me see your arm."
"It's just a sprained wrist. I'll be fine. Frank, you didn't answer my question; where's Douglas?"
"Joe." Frank shot his little brother a look just daring him to argue.
Joe knew by the serious tone and the expression on his brother's face that he wasn't going to win this argument. He just rolled his eyes and held his arm out to his brother and huffed, "Fine".
"Well, it's not broken." Frank said, pulling the black bag across the floor so he could reach it better. Unzipping the front pocket he pulled out a sling for Joe's wrist.
After he got his brother's wrist all taken care of he gently brought his hand to the side of Joe's face, sweeping the tears and blood away with his thumbs as he looked over his bruised face and swollen bottom lip. He also noticed Joe's ripped bloody wet shirt.
The thought of what Underwood had done to Joe caused sheer rage to well in Frank's chest, sending his big brother instincts into overdrive. He was angrier with himself for not being here to prevent it.
"I told you so." Joe said, as Frank slowly got him to his feet. "Why aren't you answering me? I heard you screaming…. I thought… Douglas killed you," His voice trailed off. "It's obvious just by looking at you; you got into some kind of altercation with him".
"We did." Frank finally confessed. "After you left with Underwood, I found the coins. At that point, we heard the gunshots".
"I tried to make my way down to the cabin, but Douglas wouldn't let me go." He added, "Let's just say he sort of fell off the cliff and into the ocean with his treasure chest."
"You mean you killed him?" Joe's eyes widened as he realized what Frank was implying.
"Joe, all I could think about was getting to you. I had to make a quick decision as I was fighting with Douglas, I had no other choice. It was either kill or be killed."
"So- he's dead?" Joe slowly asked.
"I don't know."
Suddenly another clap of thunder exploded above the cabin, reminding them about the hurricane that was brewing.
"No, he's not!"
Joe's face paled when he saw Albert Douglas' large frame standing in the cabin's doorway.
The man looked like a big, wet bear with his fedora hugging his head and his clothes wet and muddy. Just like Frank he had cuts and bruised all over his rugged face. Tucked under his arm was a metal treasure chest; the expression on his face was stone cold as he directed his murderous gaze at the brothers.
"I see you found your treasure chest." Frank coolly replied. He could feel his stomach churning at the sight of the big man. He knew Douglas would be itching to get his revenge after their little tussle on the hill.
"You must think you're a clever boy," Douglas wiped the rainwater off of his angry face, "pushing me over the cliff like that!"
Joe just looked at his brother, struck speechless. He knew Frank took his job as the elder sibling very seriously and would do anything to protect him. It sometimes scared him to think about what lengths Frank would go to, in order to save him. Did that mean he was capable of killing a person in order to do so? As Joe thought about it, he realized he'd probably do the same if it came down to it.
"I did what I had to, to get to Joe". Frank said evenly. "You were standing in my way!"
Douglas just glared at him. The boys backed away as he came into the room. "I have had enough of you two!" He saw Underwood lying dead on the floor while Jim seemed lifeless. That was when Jim chose to groan and began stirring.
Without warning, Douglas whipped out his gun; both brothers jumped when he fired "Bang!" a bullet into Jim's head. "That's one less headache I have to deal with."
"I want the key to the treasure chest!" He demanded. He shifted his gaze over to Joe.
"What are you talking about?!" Joe shook his head in confusion. "I don't have a key!"
"Your brother said you did! Where's the key?!"
The hurricane began to kick up its fury outside threatening to get in.
"I don't…" Joe looked to his brother, confused.
"Your gold coin it's the key!" Frank cut in.
"Are you serious?" Joe's mouth dropped in shock.
"You have two seconds to give it to me!" Douglas thundered as his cheeks turned red, his eyes flashing his anger.
"One!"
"Joe what did you with it?!" Frank asked anxiously.
"It's inside my left shoe!"
"It's inside your shoe?" Frank cocked an eyebrow, looking at Joe strangely. "That's your safe place?"
"Give it to me!" Douglas spat, turning the gun on Frank. "Give it to me before I kill your brother!"
"No! Don't!" Joe cried out. He immediately threw off his shoe and reaching inside, pulled out the support; underneath it lay his gold coin. He pulled it out and held it in the palm of his hand. "Here, take it!"
"Bring it here to me!" Douglas ordered.
Joe took a cautious step towards the crook before Frank pulled him back and placed himself protectively in front of him.
"No". Frank stated, trying to stay calm. There was no way in hell he was going to let his brother anywhere near him.
"You just made a big mistake!" Douglas snarled, cocking the handle, aiming right between Frank's eyes. "Now you die!"
Thunder boomed overhead.
"No! Frank! Joe!" A voice cried out. "Get the hell away from them!"
Just then three figures in dark raincoats swarmed into the cabin. Before Douglas knew it, one of the figures kicked the gun from his hand, sending it skidding across the floor.
"Damn!" The big crook cursed.
"Dad!" Frank and Joe shouted with joy, when they caught sight of their father with Sam, watching as Con tackled the thug to the ground.