Frank lay sprawled across the back seat, his head resting in Joe’s lap, his long legs half on the seat, half on the floor. Most of the time during the ride, he’d been unconscious or asleep – Joe wasn’t certain which – but occasionally he stirred and murmured a word or two. Joe leaned back against the seat, one arm cushioning his aching head, the other draped loosely across Frank’s chest, his eyes drooping shut. He wanted to sleep too, as Frank was – to give in, to let go….But his body wouldn’t let him, and a nagging little voice in the back of his mind kept repeating, over and over, Stay awake for Frank…stay awake for Frank…stay awake for Frank….

Frank suddenly jerked, and groaned, and his eyes opened. "Joe?" he whispered, staring up into his brother’s haggard face.

"I’m here – just stay put." Joe opened his eyes and attempted a reassuring smile…a very weak attempt. "Don’t try to move."

"Where are we?" Frank blinked vaguely at the car’s interior.

"We’re on our way to the hospital, pal…we’re almost there now. So I want you to stay awake; can you do that for me? Stay awake. You keep fading out on me, and I don’t want you to do that any more." Every time you go unconscious, Frank, I’m afraid you’re not going to wake up again!

"But I’m…so tired." Frank’s protest was barely audible. "I ache everywhere – and my shoulder feels…like it’s on fire! My arm hurts so bad, Joe…."

"I know," Joe commiserated. "But you can’t go to sleep yet – not quite yet. Soon…maybe." Please, God…let it be soon!

Frank fell silent, but Joe didn’t think he had lapsed into unconsciousness again. Joe tried to hold his eyes open, to focus on the people in the front seat. Who were these people, anyway? Joe vaguely remembered telling the man who had rescued them his name, and Frank’s, and where they were staying. And the man had promised that he would contact their parents – as soon as they got to the hospital, he’d said.

Joe could hear the couple murmuring in the front seat, but he couldn’t decipher what they were saying. Their words seemed to fade in and out, and what few phrases he could catch made no sense. Maybe it’s because my head hurts so much…. Joe thought.

He felt the car veer slightly to the right, and forced his heavy eyes open. He saw gas stations, and small hotels, and shops, and cars whizzed by on both sides. He wanted to ask their rescuers how much farther it was to the hospital, but instead, he closed his eyes again. He was too tired to make the effort. The most he could manage was to keep repeating, again and again, "stay awake, Frank…just a little longer…stay awake, please." It helped keep him awake, too, to concentrate on Frank. His head hurt so badly…now that he wasn’t keeping busy any longer, it pounded with each and every heartbeat. The Tylenol had long since worn off…or perhaps they had never worked. Joe didn’t know.

Another turn, sharper this time, jerked Joe back to reality, and he blinked his eyes open once again. "Stay awake, Frank," he murmured automatically. He stared dully out of the car window as another sharp turn to the left rocked him in his seat…and then he realized that the car had stopped moving. He heard one of the car doors open…not his.

"We’re almost there, Frank," he whispered. "Almost there…." and closed his eyes wearily.

A few moments later, they seemed to be surrounded by people…medical personnel of all sorts. Joe felt Frank lifted away from him, and heard Frank’s anguished moan at the movement…felt hands assisting him out of the car and then felt himself eased onto the soft surface of a gurney.

"Frank?" he cried, suddenly alarmed…where was Frank?

"He’s right here," a woman’s voice said soothingly, just above him. Joe blinked, and tried to focus through the throbbing headache. "He’s right next to you." Joe turned his head, and saw Frank on another gurney. There was a jerk, as the brake was released, and then they were moving into the hospital, pushed swiftly along by nurses, interns, doctors…Joe wasn’t sure just who, but they seemed to be moving purposefully, and that was reassurance in itself.

He could hear someone – the woman who had helped rescue them – talking to the doctors. Their voices faded in and out, overlapping bewilderingly.

"We found…alongside the Mount Rose Highway…met their parents in Stateline…we’ll call them, and tell…what happened."

"…medical permission…?" It was a new voice, breaking in. "…need…stabilized…get him into surgery…."

Joe raised his head slightly. "We’re both over 18…" he managed to say. "If Frank – can’t sign – I’ll do it…." He looked over at Frank’s gurney, and saw his brother’s eyelashes flutter slightly in response to his name. "Frank…?" he repeated, a little louder. "Frank…we made it…you can go to sleep now...we’re here."

*****

Left alone in the lobby of the Caesars Palace Hotel and Casino, Megan and Vanessa decided to make a quick trip up to their room, to change clothes and gather up a few things they might need on a trip to Reno – toothbrushes, changes of clothing, some bottled water.

"I’m so grungy," Megan brushed at her shorts sadly. "I feel like all I did today was get pushed down on the street."

Vanessa laughed a little. "Well, you did plenty of that, I admit." She opened the door to their room, and the two girls hurried inside. Even though they realized that it might be an hour or two before they could be on their way, they felt the need to hurry, to try and push time along, to get to Reno as quickly as possible…to get to Frank’s and Joe’s sides.

"Do you want to get anything to eat?" Vanessa inquired, rummaging through her clothes for a pair of slacks and a clean shirt. "It’s dinner time, and we have plenty of time."

"No – I don’t feel hungry." Megan shook her head. She was pale and drawn with apprehension. "I don’t think I could choke anything down."

"Megan—" Vanessa paused, gnawing nervously on her upper lip. "What do you suppose happened to them?" Vanessa’s eyes were haunted by fear. "Do you think they’re all right?"

"They’ve got to be all right!" Megan responded fiercely. "They’ve got to!"

"I wish we could have gone in the helicopter with Mr. and Mrs. Hardy." Vanessa mourned.

"I do too," Megan said softly. "But at least we’ll have the car…when it’s fixed, that is." She smiled wistfully. "I’ll never forget what Mr. Hardy did."

"You mean ‘Screw the rules!’?" Vanessa chuckled. "Wait’ll I tell Joe!" Suddenly her face clouded. "What if he’s….What if I don’t ever get a chance to tell him?" she whispered bleakly.

When they were ready, the two girls went back downstairs to the lobby, hoping Jorge had their map ready. Before they could ask, however, they heard themselves being hailed, and turned to see Lieutenant Hunt.

"Miss Bender…Miss Wright." He smiled at them. "We’ve had a team going over Mr. Hardy’s car – ordinarily, we’d impound it, and have it gone over with a fine-tooth comb, but I understand this is an emergency. So far, we haven’t come up with anything, unfortunately."

"How long?" Vanessa demanded. "How long until they’re done, and the tires replaced?"

"Not too much longer, I hope." The lieutenant tried to sound reassuring. "Although I suppose I might bend a rule or two, and have someone take you two to Reno, so you wouldn’t have to wait."

Megan and Vanessa exchanged hopeful glances, but then Megan shook her head regretfully.

"No – we’d better wait and take that one. Mr. Hardy might need a car, in Reno."

"I’ll let you know when our team’s done," Hunt prepared to return to his men in the parking lot. "I believe the repair people can have the tires replaced very shortly, once we’re through."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Vanessa murmured. She and Megan watched him depart, and then sank into chairs near Jorge’s desk. All they could do now was wait….

After some time, Vanessa broke the silence. "I can’t believe all this happened just because of a film shot Frank probably doesn’t even realize he took!"

"Things always start small, with the Hardys." Megan commented. "It’s always something completely inconsequential, and then…."

"I know," Vanessa agreed. "Who would have thought it would lead to this?" She thought about it a few moments, then added: "But – you know something? I wouldn’t trade them in for anyone – not even with all the danger, I wouldn’t."

"No, of course not." Megan managed an almost-normal smile, its sparkle only slightly quenched. "I wouldn’t change anything…. But I think I’d like to know more about the people who called, and said they’d found them – the Claremonts. They seem to be helping, but…"

"But they’re always around – popping up everywhere." Vanessa concurred. "Things are more mysterious than I’d thought. I mean, we thought it was a case of thefts – and Mr. and Mrs. Hardy thought it was a case of malicious food poisoning. But then we’ve got a guy killed in the woods behind the hotel, and then this thing with Frank and Joe and the camera…."

"Everyone seemed to be after Frank’s camera," Megan mused. "It’s like…" her voice slowed down, to match her swirling thoughts. "It’s like people were stealing things to hide the fact that they really wanted Frank’s camera…and only Frank’s." She raised her head and stared at Vanessa. "They wanted only Frank’s…." she repeated.

"Oh my…" Vanessa whispered. "I hadn’t thought of that angle…but if it’s true – oh Megan, do you suppose that could be how it all connected? Why—?"

"Excuse me," Jorge’s voice interrupted their conversation, making both girls jump in surprise. "I have marked a map for you. See? The route to Reno is marked in yellow highlighter – and I’ve written out instructions on how to find Washoe Medical Center, once you reach Reno."

"Thank you, Jorge!" Megan took the map, and smiled at the concierge gratefully.

"Please note, the road is winding and twisty," Jorge warned them. "And it will be dark by the time you’re on your way, I’m afraid. You’ll have to be very alert and watchful, especially if you see the deer crossing signs. The mountains are full of deer, and they don’t look before they jump out into headlights. They can mess up your car something fierce!"

"Oh no…" Megan, already pale, turned a shade or two whiter. The thought of hitting a deer spooked her considerably.

"Don’t worry, Megan," Vanessa said staunchly. "We’ll make it just fine. We can do anything, right?" She grinned encouragingly at the little redhead, who managed a tentative smile in return.

After what seemed like forever to the two apprehensively waiting girls, Lieutenant Hunt returned to the lobby and pronounced the rental car ‘clean’ as far as clues to the vandalism went, and added that a mechanic was currently replacing the tires.

"Are you two sure you can make it to Reno all right? I could assign an officer to drive you two over there." he suggested, looking from Vanessa to Megan.

Both girls shook their heads. They didn’t even need to look at each other to know the answer to this.

"No, we’ll be fine," Megan smiled at him. "We don’t know how long we’ll be there, and we wouldn’t want to tie up one of your officers too long. But we do appreciate the offer."

"Well, if you’re sure…." Lieutenant Hunt said. "I’ll walk you to the car, if you’re ready to leave."

They bid goodbye to Jorge, picked up their tote bags, and walked to the parking lot, where Lieutenant Hunt saw them to their newly-repaired car, and waved goodbye to them as he headed for his police cruiser.

After a few minutes to become accustomed to where all the various things were located in this unfamiliar vehicle, they headed the big car in the direction of Reno, following the road that wound itself around the edge of Lake Tahoe. The lights of the casinos shimmered and glittered, and seemed to shine like brightly-colored beacons in the evening’s growing darkness.

Vanessa found a radio station playing popular music, and they drove along comfortably listening to it, not making conversation. For now, it was enough to know that they were at last on their way.

Megan had assumed the responsibility for driving. She was the older of the two, after all, she reasoned, and as such, should be the one to get them to Reno in one piece. Once they left the bright lights of Stateline, the road was dark, winding between tall trees which lined either side of the highway. Megan concentrated hard, keeping her speed down despite the Hurry! Hurry! pounding in her brain, remembering Jorge’s warnings about the deer. She wouldn’t have minded seeing some deer, but she certainly didn’t want one jumping out in front of her!

There were other cars on the road, and this helped, making them feel less isolated on their journey; other people, going to Reno or returning. Everyday errands, or tourist trips – the sorts of things they themselves had been doing, only a day or so before….

"Van, do you think the boys are okay?" Megan broke the silence abruptly, unable to keep her tumultuous thoughts to herself any longer. She needed reassurance, and she needed it badly. Visions of Frank lying broken and battered in a hospital bed kept filling her mind.

"They have to be," Vanessa’s voice was firmly optimistic. "But I do wish that someone would call and tell us." She paused, suddenly searching in her tote bag. "Whew! For a minute I thought I might have forgotten to put my phone in!"

"You have Mr. Hardy’s cell number, don’t you? Do you want to—" Megan broke off her question, for she suddenly spotted what seemed to be two glowing lights by the side of the road – and without warning, a deer bounded out onto the highway in front of the car!

*****

Cameron Jacobs was cheeky enough to land on the helipad of Reno’s Washoe Medical Center, regardless of the regulations he broke, doing it. Fenton hadn’t bothered to argue the point with the man – after all, he had gotten them to Reno much faster than the fiasco of dealing with their damaged rental car would have allowed!

Laura seemed to be taking great care to keep Fenton between herself and the overly familiar Jacobs, who appeared to have no qualms about hitting on a married woman in front of her husband. But Fenton knew the warning signs – Laura was becoming exceptionally annoyed, and this was not a state any intelligent man wanted Laura Hardy to be in. If Cameron Jacobs knows what’s good for him, he’ll find something else to do for a bit! Fenton thought, with an inward chuckle. Or he’s going to find himself minus some fingers…or something else a little more vital….

Descending quickly from the helipad, the Hardys swept into the emergency room and hurried to the receptionist at the main desk. They identified themselves, and asked for information regarding their children.

"The doctor has been waiting to talk to you," the receptionist told them. "Take the elevator up to the 5^th floor – the trauma ward – and ask for Dr. Ashton. The elevators are right around that corner." She pointed, and smiled at them encouragingly.

When Laura and Fenton got off the elevator on Floor 5, they hurried to the nurse’s station and asked for Dr. Ashton, but were informed that he was with another patient at the moment.

"I can give you some information, though," one of the nurses offered. She smiled, and led the way to the waiting room. "Why don’t you come and sit down for a minute?"

Laura and Fenton followed her, feeling more and more apprehensive. They seated themselves stiffly on a couch, and declined the offer of coffee.

"The boys were brought in nearly two hours ago," the nurse said. "The older one, with dark hair, was in much the worse shape."

"What was wrong with him?" Laura demanded. "How was he hurt?"

"He had several injuries," the nurse, who had brown hair and twinkling blue eyes in a sweet face, and whose name tag read Bonnie Freitag, replied. She read off a chart that she held in her lap. "A foreign object puncturing his left shoulder – it was a stick, by the way, what looked like a piece of a pine branch – a multiple fracture of his left arm, three bruised but not cracked ribs, blood loss from the shoulder wound, a concussion, several abrasions and moderately-severe bruises, and two cuts that required stitches."

Laura and Fenton both gasped at the extent of Frank’s injuries, and Laura felt her eyes fill with tears at the thought of her firstborn suffering all these things.

"He was stabilized a short while ago," Ms. Freitag continued, "and taken to surgery. He’s currently there; they’ll remove the stick and set his arm, and then he’ll be in recovery – and you can see him." she added, smiling encouragingly at the Hardys.

"What about Joe?" Fenton’s voice was harsh with tension.

"The younger one, the blonde?" Ms. Freitag paused, collecting her thoughts. She obviously didn’t have Joe’s chart handy. "He sustained a concussion, which was the most serious of his injuries, multiple scratches, bruises, and abrasions, and muscle strain, which he evidently acquired while dragging his older brother through a mile or so of brush, after they were injured. He was also suffering from dehydration and exhaustion, and had a small cut on his face that required five stitches, but I don’t believe it will leave a scar."

Again, the encouraging smile. "Mr. and Mrs. Hardy, they both will be fine, I’m sure of that. Frank was half-awake, and Joe was conscious when they were admitted, and his main focus was making sure that Frank was taken care of. Only when he was convinced that his brother was in good hands and was going to be all right, did he finally relax. He was given a light sedative, just to be sure he sleeps comfortably, and he’s been admitted; he’s in a room on this floor. And Frank will be out of surgery fairly soon, I believe."

"Are the people who brought them in around?" Fenton asked, remembering the man who looked like Randall Claremont he had glimpsed from the helicopter in Tahoe.

"I haven’t seen them," the nurse admitted. "But then, I came on duty after the doctor was already looking the boys over."

"Can we see Joe?" Laura’s voice quavered.

"Of course. Come along." Bonnie Freitag led the way down the corridor; Fenton and Laura followed in her wake, tightly clasping each other’s hands.

Joe was sleeping partly on his side, one arm curled under his cheek, despite the two pillows beneath his head. He had been cleaned up, and was clad in a hospital gown; and a bandage on his face concealed the stitches.

"Joe hates hospital gowns…" Laura whispered. "We should have gotten him some clothes before we left the hotel…" She sank into the chair beside the bed

"Honey, we didn’t have time," Fenton reminded her. "We’ll get him some clothes before he has to go home; don’t worry." He gazed down at his younger son somberly. "What I’d like to know is: what happened to them? How were they hurt?" He turned to Ms. Freitag. "Do you know?"

"No," she admitted. "As I said, I wasn’t on duty when they were first brought in. Neither of them was very coherent just then – and no one’s mentioned how they were injured, to me. The wounds seemed consistent with bashing injury, however – and the scratches and abrasions seem to indicate they’d gone through bushes or trees. I’m sure the doctor knows more about it." She smiled again, another professionally encouraging smile. "Dr. Ashton should be with you shortly." She patted Laura’s shoulder, and left the room. Fenton drew up a second chair by his son’s bedside, and the Hardys sat in silence, watching Joe sleep.

Perhaps ten minutes later the door was pushed open, and a slightly-built man with thick dark hair and a youthful face entered. "Mr. and Mrs. Hardy? I’m Dr. Ashton, the admitting physician." He extended his hand as Fenton rose to his feet, but gestured for Laura to stay seated. "I initially treated both boys; of course, Frank’s injuries required the services of Dr. Singh, the surgeon on call."

"Can you tell us how it happened?" Fenton demanded yet again. "What caused the injuries?"

"From what I understood from Joe," Dr. Ashton said, "they were caught in a rockslide on the mountain. Apparently Joe essentially carried the older boy, Frank, out of the woods on his own, despite his own injuries. And let me assure you, they both are going to be all right. Joe can probably be released as early as tomorrow, assuming he’s feeling up to it. Frank will have to stay two or three days, depending on how his surgery went. He’ll be wearing a cast for a while, though." the doctor added.

Both the Hardys smiled in relief at hearing this pronouncement, and Laura settled back in her chair, relaxing just a bit. Dr. Ashton checked Joe, then left, telling them that they’d be notified as soon as Frank was out of surgery.

"Honey, this room’s pretty small," Fenton leaned over Laura, rubbing her shoulders gently. "Why don’t I let you stay here with Joe, and I’ll go out to the waiting room for a bit, and then I’ll see Frank as soon as he’s in recovery."

"All right." Laura leaned into the massage gratefully, and Fenton kissed her cheek before departing.

In the deserted waiting room, Fenton got himself a cup of coffee, and then paced the floor, sipping it as he walked back and forth. What’s going on, anyway? Where are the Claremonts? Why aren’t they here? Was that Randall Claremont I saw from the helicopter? Why have they disappeared? If they are the ones who caused this, then why did they bring Frank and Joe to the hospital? Was it just to divert suspicion from themselves? Fenton didn’t doubt that motive at all.

He sat down and took a gulp of the coffee. He was frustrated beyond belief at his lack of answers, and he felt his teeth clenching harder and harder. Gotta stop that before I break a molar, he cautioned himself, consciously relaxing, but almost immediately felt his jaw tighten again. If I wasn’t so tired, I could put things together and figure it out…. He shifted uncomfortably. God, but my back’s killing me…that helicopter seat wasn’t the most comfortable in the world, that’s for sure!

Fenton got to his feet and discarded the coffee cup, deciding to go to the nurses’ station and inquire whether Frank was out of surgery yet. As he reached the door he paused, hearing a voice in the hallway. He knew that voice: Randall Claremont’s! So it wasn’t Claremont who had been in Stateline, Fenton concluded; it had merely been someone who resembled him. He wasn’t sure if that made him feel better, or more nervous!

Randall Claremont seemed to be talking to someone…probably Lisa, Fenton surmised…and what he was saying made Fenton’s blood run cold!

"We’re going to have to do something about that boy."