"Galen, call the authorities," Mr. Hardy ordered. "Ask to speak with Inspector Kuutin.  He's the man I spoke with about what's happening around here.  Show him that paper and tell him Joe's being held captive in a building on government property."  

"Uh, Mr. Hardy," Phil interrupted.  "Joe's been given the poison tht makes you appear dead."  

"I'l call Dora," Dr. Duvalier said.  "I thought this might happen at some point and asked her if she could bring back the dead."  

"The dead?" Frank asked.  "Joe's not dead," he said slowly but with a world of feeling.  

"By way of the poison," Dr. Duvalier clarified.  "She can.  But you will need to take Joe to her."  

Mr. Hardy nodded.  "Let's go," he said, leading Phil and Frank, whose stint as a zombie now showed no physical effects save the pale, undernourished look in his face.  They took the truck as far as they dared, then pulled off the road.  Phil led them to where Chet and Biff were waiting.   

"Frank!" Chet cried out in surprise.  

"Shh!!" Biff ordered, his blue eyes stern.  

"Frank, are you sure you should be here?" Chet asked.  

"I feel fine," Frank replied with a faint smile.  "And I'll feel even better once we get Joe back."  

"They haven't left," Biff said.  "But the short guy came back almost as soon as you left," he added to Phil.  

Mr. Hardy pulled out his gun.  "You boys stay here," he ordered.  "I'm going to go in for a closer look."  He crept up to the house and peered in the window.  Looking in, he was pleasantly shocked to see Joe sitting at the table.  His face was bruised but he was definitely alive.  

Mr. Hardy made his way back to the boys and told them Joe had apparently been given an antidote in Phil's absence.  "Thank God," uttered Frank in relief, a sentiment echoed by all present.  

"What were they doing?" Frank asked his dad.  

"It looks like they are getting ready to leave," he admitted.  

"Did you recognize anyone in there?" Biff asked.  

Mr. Hardy shook his head.  "I don't recall having seen any of those men."  

"I don't understand," Frank admitted, shaking his head.  "None of this makes sense."  

"Actually, it kind of does," Phil said.  

"What?" Mr. Hardy demanded, looking at Phil.  

"Apparently, Frank saw two men talking who should have had no contact with each other," Phil began.  "They were afraid Frank would report the meeting to the authorities, who, obviously don't know what is going on.  Anyway, they took  Frank out of the picture using the only item they had on them at that moment, the powder."  

"But it wasn't wither of the men I saw talking who did it," Frank informed them.  "It was this short guy."  

"The Bokur," Chet said.  "He is the short dude."  

"He's a fraud," Biff snorted.  

"Of course he is," Mr. Hardy admitted, his brow wrinkled in thought.  "But he does have everyone fooled."  

"He is definitely no backwoods prophet," Chet said in disgust.  

"Isn't he?" Frank asked.  

"What do you  mean, Son?" Mr. Hardy asked.  

"Well, he has all the natives believing he is some super magical being," Frank began.  "But he is smart enough to know what might pose a danger and to have some type of physical evidence for what he is doing."  

"The papers," Phil said.  

"Right," Frank agreed.  "I don't think we will know what is going on unless we can get our hands on those papers."  

"Frank," Chet said, looking at Frank a bit peculiarly.  "Shouldn't Joe be our main concern?"  

"He is," Frank said, as fast as he could.  "They must have revived him to use him as a hostage," he deduced.   

"You are leaving something out," Phil observed.  

"There must be someone involved from Jima's plantation that Joe recognized, or they wouldn't have taken Joe in the first place," Frank commented.  

"But they took you," Biff said, confused.  "And you didn't recognize anyone."  

"They acted irrationally," Phil said, picking up on what Frank was trying to say.  "They saw Frank and panicked.  But after Frank was rescued, they realized the jig was about up.  When Joe turned up, they probably figured Frank must have told about the meeting he witnessed."  

"So you're saying they think Joe knows all about what they are doing on government property," Chet said.  

"I think so," Phil answered.   

"If that's the case, why didn't they just kill him? Or at least, why bother to revive him?" Chet demanded.  

"Maybe they are planning on using him as a hostage," suggested Phil.  

"What about the other, um, zombies?" Chet asked.  "Where are they?"  

Mr. Hardy frowned.  "That's a very good question," he said in an unhappy tone.  "If we rescue Joe now, we may not find the other victims."  

"We aren't going to let them take Joe away," Frank declared slowly, his brown eyes flashing.  

"Of course not," Mr. Hardy quickly denied.  He looked around.  "I just wish Inspector Kuutin would hurry up and arrive."  

"You have a plan?" Phil asked.  

"Yes," admitted Mr. Hardy, but it is dangerous and I don't want you boys to be involved.  

"It doesn't look like we have a choice," Biff said, looking at the cabin and seeing the front door open.  

"Blast it!" growled Mr. Hardy.  He looked at Frank.  "Are you up for this?" he asked.  

Frank nodded, his eyes determined as he saw Joe being pushed through the door, a gun in his back.  The left side of his face was swollen and bruised and his shirt had been ripped open in the front.  It looked like someone had pulled him up by the front of his shirt and beat him.  Frank wanted revenge more than he wanted anything, and not because of what had happened to himself.  

Mr. Hardy swallowed painfully before speaking.  "You have to go and let them capture you," he said.  

"What?" Phil demanded.  

"No way!" argued Biff.  

"Crazy!" Chet ejactulated.  

"Why?" Phil asked, looking at Mr. Hardy intently.  "What good will that do?"   

"Joe is in no condition to fight," Mr. Hardy stated, looking at his youngest son being hustled off into the woods.  "Frank needs to be near enough to Joe to bring him down when the fighting starts."  

"That's all?" Frank demanded.  

"That's all," concurred Mr. Hardy.  "I don't think you are well enough to fight either," he continued.  "I want you both out of this."  

"Agreed," Phil said.  "But we had better get moving before we lose them."  

"What about the other victims?" Biff asked.  

"We are going to follow them until they take us where they are going before we make our move," Mr. Hardy said.  "But the sooner Frank..."  

"The sooner I get captured, the better the chance I'll have to be right beside Joe when the fun starts," Frank finished.  "I'll get a bit ahead of them and let myself be caught," he added, moving away from his dad and friends.  

Joe, not realizing what was happening, saw Frank by the trail ahead of them.  He started putting up a fuss, hoping Frank was lucid enough to get away. One of his captors rounded on Joe and hit him so hard, he fell backwards onto the hard ground below, unmoving.   

One of the other men saw Frank at about the same time as Joe hit the ground and aimed his weapon at Frank.  Frank stood up and lifted his arms in the air.  He waited until  the man came and grabbed him by the arm and dragged him down to Joe.  When he was released, he leaned down and helped Joe to his feet.   

Frank realized Joe didn't know how he was.  "It's okay, baby brother," Frank whispered in his slow gait.  

Joe looked at Frank through one eye, the other to messed up to see out of.  Frank wasn't sure, but he would almost swear Joe smiled.  The boys were hustled through the woods and back onto the Duvalier plantation.  Once there, they were taken further back into the woods, away from the beach and away from the manor.   After a good hour and a half,  they stopped at a long building.   

Frank had seen this type of building before in history books.  It was no more than slave's quarters.  The natives of Haiti used to be slaves.  This building was obviously old, but it must have been well built to have survived the weather all these years.  The two boys were taken inside.  Frank shuddered when he saw the people sitting against the wall, their eyes staring straight ahead although they saw nothing.   

Joe glanced over at Frank and was relieved to see he wasn't freaking out.  He wondered where his dad and friends were.  Had they been able to follow him and Frank?  Although he had no clue as to what the plan was, he was positive he and Frank had not been abandoned.   

Milan came over to the group as they entered the building.  "I'm sorry," he said to Joe and Frank.  Frank, never having met the man, looked first at him and then at Joe.  

"Are your brothers in this too?" Joe asked thickly.  His mouth swollen.  

"No," Milan quickly replied. "They would be ashamed. I just...I just wanted things to be easier," he said.  "Running a plantation is hard.  If we had more money, we could hire more workers, get more machinery to help.  None of us would have to work seven days a week eighteen hours a day anymore."  

"Hire workers?" Frank asked, looking hard at him.  "Don't you mean make more?"  

"No," Milan denied.  "They never did any work on our plantation."  

"I saw them," Joe argued.  

"No," Milan corrected him.  "You were at the boundary to government land, not our land, when you watched them."  

"What are you doing on government land?" Frank demanded.   

"Omar, the guy talking with the Bokur, found something one night while he was digging a grave," Milan informed them.  

"Digging a grave on government property?" Frank asked in disbelief.  "I thought your culture had ceremonies to do before one could be buried properly."  

"Omar killed a man," Milan admitted.  "A government official.  He buried the man, then felt the Gods would be after him for doing such an evil and not giving the man a proper burial.  He went back to retrieve the body.  When he did, the body had decomposed.  More so than it should have.  Omar went to the Bokur.  The Bokur then contacted one of the men with the government.  The two people you saw talking the day you became one of the undead, was Omar and that government official,  Riptkin.  The Bokur was watching the meeting and saw you arrive.  He feared you might make trouble and so took your soul."  

"Uranium," Frank said, figuring out what was being mined by the zombies.  "You use the  zombies to dig it since they are basically dead already."  

"Yes," Milan admitted.   

"And the papers the Bokur has?" Frank demanded.  

"Papers?" Milan said, thoughtfully.  "Must be the contract with the mercenaries who have agreed to purchase the uranium."  

"Since when do mercenaries have written contracts?" Joe snorted.  

"This is not America," Milan pointed out.  "We are less strict with whom we do business and our laws are a bit different than yours."  

"Why didn't you just kill me?" Joe asked.  "I mean, you were using Frank, but not me.  Why?"  

"The Bokur believed you would make an adequate hostage should our government find out about the uranium and try to take control of it.  It is, after all, theirs since it is on government property," Milan answered.  

"What are you going to do with us now?" Frank asked.   

"You are to be used as hostages, as planned," Milan answered.  "The Bokur has eyes everywhere.  He knows you and your father have gotten to close to the operation.  He knows you went to the authorities and has decided to close up shop and cut our losses."  

"What about these people?" Joe demanded.  

"They are dying anyway," Milan answererd.  "Unlike your brother, they have been exposed to too much for too long."  

"You make me sick," Joe said, turning away from the young man.  

"How did you get involved?" Frank asked.  "Omar came to me first," he admitted.  "I did not know what he should do and so sent him to the Bokur.  When the Bokur decided to set up shop, I had no choice.  Either I become a partner or I become a zombie."  

"The authorities know what is going on," Frank said.  "It's over.  Nothing is going to help you now."  

"I know," Milan siad, looking down at his feet.  "And now my family will know what I have done.  But I will not shame them more," he added, his eyes hardening.  

"What..." Frank began but soon saw the answer to his unasked question.  Milan pulled a small revolver from his waistband and turned in one fluid movement aimming  it at the Bokur.  As he pulled the trigger, Frank shoved Joe to the floor as one then two then three bullets rang out.   

Shots were heard from outside the building and within seconds several armed men entered the building.  Fenton Hardy and the boys' friends followed close behind.  The entire affair was over in minutes.  The Bokur had been shot by Milan and lay dead.  Milan, lay on the ground near Frank and Joe, two bullet entry wounds visible on his chest among the blood which was flowing freely.  

Frank lifted Milan's shoulders into his arms.  "I...am sorry," he whispered.  "Please tell my family," he added.   

Frank nodded.  "We will," he whispered as Milan's head fell to one side.  

"Boys?" Mr. Hardy asked, rushing over to them.   

"Is he dead?" Chet asked, looking at Milan in disbelief.  He was having a hard time believing it was him.  Anthony or Kreg, but not Milan.  He had seemed the friendliest of the brothers.  

"Yes," Frank said, lowering Milan back down to the ground.  "Where did they come from?" he asked, indicating the many officers.  

"Inspector Kuutin and these men were waiting outside in the undergrowth when we arrived," Mr. Hardy said.  "They knew of this place and assumed this was were they were holding their, uh, prisoners."  

"Then why didn't they look into this place before?" Biff demanded.  

"Because we thought Frank was being held on a private plantation," Mr. Hardy explained, watching as Frank stood up and helped Joe to his feet.   "They had no reason to believe Frank or anyone else was being held here," he added as Frank and Joe gave each other a hug.  

"The antidote for the drug is in the flask attached to the leather cord around his back," Joe said, as one of the Hiatian officials came over to the group.  

"I do not think it will them much good," said the Inspector.  

"Because of the radiation poisoning?" Frank asked.  

The man nodded.  "Your father informed me you were a zombie," he continued.  "This means you have been exposed."  

"Yes," Mr. Hardy said.  "And the sooner we return to the states, the sooner Frank, and Joe," he added, taking in the appearance of his youngest son with a grimace of anguish,  "can get medical treatment."  

"We do have facilities here," the Inspector stated.  

"I know," Mr. Hardy replied.  "But I think my sons would feel much better if they were back home."  

"But the plane doesn't leave for a few days yet," Phil pointed out.  

"I called a friend of mine in Washington when Frank was found," Mr. Hardy said.  "He has arranged special clearance between the United States and Haiti for a private flight back to the states.  Jack should be at the airport waiting for us."  

"Let's go then," Frank said, pulling Joe with him toward the exit.  "If I never come to Haiti again, it will still be too soon!"

 

End

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys 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.