Hardy Boys Fan Fiction - A Summer Storm by Anya (Hardy Detective Agency)

He tried to open his eyes; it seemed to take so long. And everything looked hazy. There was something brownish in front of eyes. Joe blinked; this didn’t look like his bed. For a moment he thought he was lying on the floor of his room.

He jerked his head up, and promptly wished he hadn’t. It hurt. He screwed his eyes shut, and then sluggishly raised a hand to his pounding head. He felt something wet and sticky on his temple.

Something’s wrong, his tired mind told him, get up.

It seemed like an eternity before Joe managed to open his eyes. Things looked clearer now. He could make out a huge oak tree in front of him. He was outside, lying on wet earth. And it was raining. He tried slowly, very slowly to sit up, and managed somehow to drag himself up, to a near sitting posture with his back against the tree trunk, wondering what he was doing out in the garden.

He noticed the big branch lying on the ground in front of him, and the memories came flooding back. He’d been kidnapped by Gavin Walker, and he’d escaped into the woods. That’s where he was now, lost in the woods, and not in the garden back home. He remembered tripping over the branch lying in front of him.

And he seemed to have cut his forehead, he realised. There was blood trickling out of a cut. He felt it gingerly. It stung when he touched, but it didn’t seem very deep. Just a graze. And a big headache.

He sunk his head into his knees giving his head time to clear, and took a few deep breaths.

He figured he couldn’t have been out for long. It wasn’t any brighter around him. He must have been knocked out for a few minutes. He needed to get moving again fast, the longer he sat there, the more tired he’d feel. As it is, all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

You can do that at home, he told himself strictly.

For now, he needed to get out of this stupid rain.

Joe lifted up his head and shivered slightly. His clothes were completely soaked through, and he felt like he was coming down with a chill. He placed his palms on the ground, and heaved himself up.

It was when he’d stood up, that he realised something was wrong. A sharp pain shot up his left ankle, and he found himself falling off-balance. He tried to put out a hand to steady himself, but the pain was so overbearing, he just found himself falling… deeper and deeper into a gaping black tunnel…

*****

Frank came to a sudden stop as he noticed a dark sodden mass lying on the ground near a bush. Phil, close behind him, came to a stop too.

"What is it?"

Frank lifted the soaking piece of cloth.

"It looks like a shawl or something," he told Phil, "Wonder how it landed here."

"Joe?"

"Maybe."

They continued along the trail quietly but rapidly, as rapidly as the squelchy soil under their feet would allow. Frank marvelled at how Phil still remembered the route like he’d been there just yesterday.

"Frank, look at these marks," Phil called out suddenly.

Frank stooped and looked at the crude nicks made on the trunk of one of the trees.

"It looks fresh," he told Phil, "You can still see the sap underneath, it hasn’t dried up yet."

Phil nodded.

It wasn’t long before they reached a fork in the path.

"Now what?" Frank asked, leaning against a tree. He was beginning to feel tired. He hadn’t slept all night, and apart from a few sandwiches, he hadn’t had much to eat, either. But there was no way he was going to do either until he’d found Joe. So, he just tried to block the tiredness out of his mind.

"This is the fork I told you about," Phil said, as he beckoned him over to the track heading eastwards.

"This path goes straight down to the beach where we landed. See that little rock overhang, we’re berthed right under it."

"And the other just circles around the woods, right?" Frank asked.

"If Joe, took that, he’d have reached the boat," Phil said.

"Well, he hasn’t," Frank said as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, "Someone would have called, unless he got lost along it."

"Not possible," Phil said, "it’s a very clear path, and very short."

"So, he probably went deeper into the woods," Frank sighed. He wished it wasn’t raining, at least they could have checked for Joe’s tracks. But the constant rain would have wiped out any signs of Joe’s presence.

"Why can’t Joe ever take the sensible way out," he muttered unhappily.

Phil gave him a sharp glance and then said, "He wouldn’t have known the boat would be there. It can’t even be seen from here." He softened his tone a little. He knew Frank was having a hard time trying to stay calm while Joe was missing.

Frank nodded sheepishly, silently berating himself for succumbing to his tiredness, and making a snappy remark like that.

"Come on," Phil urged him, "this isn’t a very long path either, but it is narrow."

"I wish I’d been born a mountain goat," Frank muttered as they started off along the narrow track.

They seemed to walk on for ages, though Frank’s watch showed him it had only been about ten minutes. They’d managed to make rapid progress, despite the bad ground and worse weather.

"I found something," Phil announced, holding up a muddied brown shoe in his hand.

Frank almost snatched it out of his hand, "this looks like… o.k. it is… Joe’s, it used to be white though."

"But where’s Joe?"

*****

"Someone’s coming out," Chet whispered urgently.

"Alright then, move in everyone," Con said signaling to the rest of the men who had joined them near the Sandler house. They had surrounded it completely now and were just waiting for the right moment to take in Gavin Walker and his children.

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boy Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.