Frank was exhausted. He had run as far as he could, and now he realized with mounting horror, that he was lost.

He had no idea where he was.

Looking around, he saw the houses were very run down, and there were broken bikes and trash in many yards. Absently he wondered if this was Buckmaster Circle, the hard side of town that he had often heard some of the bigger kids at school talk about.

They said it was tough, and that if anyone who wasn’t from the area was caught anywhere near it, they were dragged behind Chevys until they were dead.

Frank was a bright kid, but this late at night, in a strange part of town…all alone. He wondered if maybe there was just some truth to what they were saying.

Glancing around, he saw one small house that seemed better up-kept than the rest.  There was a silver car parked in the driveway and no trash on the lawn.  It might have even been recently mowed.

As he got closer, Frank saw a man standing on the step having a smoke, and decided he might be a good person to ask for help.  He knew he shouldn’t talk to strangers, but he figured if he stayed on the sidewalk and far away from the man, he could shout out and ask him to call 911 for him.

That was his plan, anyway.

But as he got closer, the man turned abruptly and went back inside.

Sighing, the little boy went as close as he dared and was just debating with himself over what to do when he heard raised voices through an open window.  Curious, he moved closer to see if he could hear what they were saying. It was a man and a woman talking.

Frank listened with a growing anxiety. He had no idea who they were talking about but he heard the man saying to the woman, “he can spend another night in the basement. If I can't work it out of him in the morning…we’ll have to find another kid. He’s a stubborn little cuss.”

Backing away in horror, Frank decided these were not good people to go to for help.

They’ve got someone in the basement, the child thought and then out of inbred curiosity, Frank snuck around the back of the house to see if he could see in.  He had to know who they were talking about…it could be Joey!

* * *

Fenton was at his wits’ ends.  He had checked out every spot that he could think of where Frank might have run, but now over three hours later, he was at a loss.

Chief Collig also had his guys out looking, but so far they hadn’t turned up much.  Yes, some people remembered seeing a small dark haired boy running through the streets, but he was long gone by then.

Pulling over, Fenton hauled out a map of the city. He knew the area very well, but he just wanted to see if he could determine the best next place to look.  It was one thing to look at the city from the road, but as he glanced down at it as an overview and pictured himself as a small, distraught boy, he needed to see it as a grid.

Where would I run?  He thought as he traced the path that they had been able to pick up so far.

Frowning, he shook his head, oh no Frank.  Not there. 

But deep down he had no doubt where his son was.  Buckmaster Circle.

And that was the last place in the world that Fenton wanted his 6-½ year old son to be. 

* * *

As Frank snuck around to the back of the house he saw a small window at ground level and knew it must be the basement window.

Lying down on his stomach, he saw the window was dirty, and he had to use his hand to wipe away the dirt before he could even think of seeing anything.

“Yuck,” he whispered as he then wiped his dirty hand off on his pants.

And then he pressed his nose against the glass and peered in.

Unfortunately, the basement was too dark for him to see anything, and he once again wished he had x-ray vision.

Sighing, Frank was just about to crawl away when he saw the light come on.  Pressing his face back against the window he saw the same man who had been having a smoke, come down the stairs. 

And then as he looked past the man, he did not understand what he was seeing at first. 

Someone, a child, a little boy, had been beaten and was chained to a bed and as Frank watched he saw the man talking to the little boy.  The child shook his head, and then Frank flinched as he saw the man draw back his hand and hit him.

The sound of flesh striking flesh…the pain filled little cry…

Frank felt sick. He had never seen anyone strike someone like that before.

And then the child fell back on the bed.  Frank got his first good look at him…and doubling over, he threw up.

This kid, beaten almost beyond recognition, was his little brother….It was Joe.

* * *

“Okay Fenton,” Collig’s voice on the cell phone rang loudly, “I’ll have Riley and Higgens swing by the Circle.  You guys can work it out together.”

Hanging up, Fenton slowed down to make sure he wouldn’t miss anything.  His mind was racing….Both his sons were missing and as he looked for his oldest, he couldn’t help but also hope to find his youngest.

He could not bear the thought that he might lose them both.

And that they had failed them both.

They had not been able to protect Joey in the Fun House, and now they had also not been able to protect Frankie in his own house.

Shaking his head, he pushed past the despair. He could not afford the luxury of emotions right now.  If he did….he would lose them both.

* * *

The basement was once again shrouded in darkness when Frank was finally able to look in again. He felt shaky and scared as he wished his father was here but there was no one.  Just him…and his baby brother.

Frank knew he needed to get help, but first he had to see Joe. He needed to let him know that he was not alone.  That one brief fleeting glimpse of his brother’s face had been enough for Frank to see how terrified Joe was.  And, a habit started in infancy; he needed to make Joe feel better.

Only then could he go for help.

But first he had to let Joe know he was here…and to tell him he was sorry for hiding from him in the Fun House.

No matter what.

* * *

Joe heard a sound coming from the other side of the basement but he was too miserable to give it much thought.  Miles had come down to give him one more warning.

“Okay, you little piece of shit,” Miles said as he glowered above the cowering boy, “are you ready to behave nicely and give your Momma a good night kiss?”

“Not my Mommy,” Joe whispered, the words barely audible through his swollen mouth, as he shook his head, feeling the world swim as he did.

Immediately Miles backhanded him again, and the force knocked him back on the bed and stunned him.

Turning away in disgust, he pointed towards the bat as he said to the child, “Come morning, if you don’t feel the love…I’ll see how thick your skull really is.…”

There was so much hatred and loathing in his voice, the little boy sobbed…he’d peed himself again.

Shivering and terrified, he sat in the dark and listened to the sound…there it was again.

* * *

Frank tried the window. He had to get inside.

Pressing on the window, the little boy felt a surge of hope when he felt it give a little.  It wasn’t locked…but it was stiff and resistant from disuse.

Grunting, he pressed harder and slowly, painstakingly, the window began to open.

Just a little more, he panted and then… yes!  He had the window open.

Slipping his feet in, he wiggled and squirmed his body into the small opening, getting stuck once before he slipped and then fell into the basement, hitting the floor squarely on his butt…hard!

Stunned, Frank sat there for a few moments trying to see if he had any more damage then his pride.  But everything seemed to work, although as he stood and winced, he figured he was going to have a bruise.  And then all thoughts for himself quickly diminished as he realized where he was…. He was in the basement with Joe!

Whipping around, he saw his brother curled up in a small ball and hurried towards him.

* * *

Joe watched in growing horror as a dark shadow fell into the basement and then proceeded right towards him.  Terrified, the child sat up and moved back in against the wall as far as possible.  His right eye had now swollen completely shut so he couldn’t see very well. 

Not knowing who this shadow was or what it wanted, he figured it was something else horrible sent down to punish him, and he began to whimper as he drew his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them as tightly as he could and rocked, “Not my Mommy…not my Daddy…not my Mommy…”

* * *

The shadow stopped and stared at him in confusion.  Why was Joey acting this way?

Taking another look at the beaten and bruised child distressing in front of him, Frank wondered if maybe he was wrong.  Maybe this wasn’t his brother.

So he just said softly, “Joey?”

* * *

Joe heard the voice and started to shake and cry.  The shadow sounded like his big brother…. It sounded like Frank.  But it couldn’t be.  Frank wouldn’t be here….

He wanted it so desperately to be his brother…but he was too scared to just believe in case this was some horrible trick.

* * *

Frank slowly moved closer to the bed and any doubts of whether or not this was his brother, were erased.  It was Joe.

But he had never seen his brother behave like this before in his life…but then again, he’d never seen his brother beaten up like this before either.

Joe was more scared than Frank had ever seen him, and the older boy desperately wanted to make him feel better.

He needed to. 

So he tried again, “Joey?  It’s me.”

Traumatized vibrant blue eyes looked at him, and he heard his younger brother whisper, “Frankie?  Is it really you?”

“Yes Joey…it’s me,” and then the smaller boy was throwing himself towards his big brother, ignoring the pain….Just wanting to be held and comforted by his brother.

Frank held his shaking brother, not knowing what to do. He had seen Joe upset many times before, usually after a nightmare and even furious, usually after a playground fight, but he had never seen him this way before. 

After a few moments, he asked, “Are you okay?”

His brother refused to let him go but Frank heard him whisper, “I wanna go home!”  The sound in his voice made Frank’s heart ache.  He wanted to be home too.

Glancing around, Frank saw their only ways out were the door from the basement up to the main house, or the window he had come in through.  The basement door was out of the question because that would mean running into the people who had done this to his brother…. So that left the window.

Frowning, the small boy regarded the trembling mass that seemed to have affixed itself to his ribcage and knew the window was out of the question too.

He was no doctor but he knew his brother was badly hurt…too badly for climbing out a window…and then glancing down at the chain still shackled to his brother’s ankle, he was still too captured as well.

Frank was going to have to go for help.

“Are you hungry?”  Frank whispered as he tried to distract Joe into calming down a bit.

He felt his brother nod his head, and keeping one arm still around his brother’s body, Frank rooted through his pocket, positive that he still had half an Aero Bar in his pocket from the Carnival.  He pulled it out and then frowned at the squished, icky mess that it had become during his frantic race through darkened Bayport.

“I have a bar…but it’s squished,” Frank said, wishing he had thought to at least not have lain on it when he was looking in through the window.

Joe sat up a bit and looked at the brown mess in his brother’s hand, and then he grabbed it and began wolfing it down as Frank just watched. 

“When’d you last eat?” the older boy asked thoughtfully, as Joe was so hungry he almost ate the wrapper, and would have if Frank hadn’t grabbed it away.

“Dunno,” Joe admitted, leaning over and groaning as the rich food hit his empty stomach, “Cotton Candy…”

Frank’s eyes widened, “But Joey, that’s almost 2 days ago!  They didn’t give you anything?” 

The younger boy couldn’t answer as he held his stomach and moaned, “My tummy hurts!”

“Here,” Frank pulled away from his brother enough to let him lie down on his side and he gently rubbed his brother’s stomach, alarmed to feel it moving beneath his hand as the devoured food made Joe’s stomach cramp painfully.

Joe kept one hand firmly grasped to his brother’s arm, as if afraid Frank would vanish if he let go.

As Frank tried to console his brother, his mind was awhirl with what to do.  Joe needed help, that much was obvious, but Frank was very reluctant to leave him alone now that he had found him, in case Miles came back. 

His kid brother was so terrified, it was terrifying him.

Glancing down again at his brother, Frank remembered he needed to tell him something. “Joey?”

“Um,” the little boy moaned as he writhed on the bed with the next stomach cramp.

“I’m sorry,” Frank said, feeling his throat well with emotion, “that day…at the Fun House. I didn’t mean to not answer you.  I…I just wanted the game to go on a bit longer… I’m so… sorry.”

As he lowered his head so that it touched his brother’s shaking shoulder, he felt Joe reach up and touch his face. “Frankie…”

“Y-yeah?”  he managed to stammer.

“Okay…just don’t ever say…I don’t hide good, no more, okay?” 

Frank stared dumbfounded into the pain-filled blue eyes that somehow still managed a brief twinkle before the pain took over again, and he hugged him tight and whispered, “Oh Joey…no one hides like you.”