His face was numb and he couldn't breathe. That panicked him but before his mind could really process it, something hauled him back and suddenly, he could breathe. Joe blinked snow out of his eyes and wiped his face. He felt someone tugging him back and to the side and he realized Adrian had pulled him out. "Thanks," he said, feeling as if a ton of snow had seeped in under his clothes.

"Welcome. Watch your step."

Joe gave him a look and held back a groan. Something told him Adrian hadn't meant that facetiously. He coughed and felt the twinge from his ribs and this time it really hurt. That wasn't a good sign, he thought as he followed Adrian.

He looked around but with the layer of snow, the place could have been an alien landscape or his backyard, and he wouldn't have known where anything was without familiar landmarks. He focused on placing one foot in front of the other, following Adrian.

After a while, the silence was too much. There was no sound whatsoever, except the harshness of his breathing. Since the fall, he couldn't seem to breathe deep enough to get enough air and that worried him.

Joe saw Adrian stop and look back at him. "I'm fine."

Adrian frowned. "Yeah, and I'm the Pope. You injured yourself in the plane, didn't you?"

"Bruised ribs." Joe didn't feel like arguing.

"Trouble breathing?"

"What are you, a doctor in another life?"

"No. You may have broken a rib when you fell. It may have done damage to a lung."

"I was hoping that wasn't it."

Adrian studied him. "You'd do it anyway. Walk until you drop."

Joe gingerly touched his side where most of the pain had settled. When he glanced back, he couldn't see the plane but he knew his brother and the others were back there. "Wouldn't you?"

Adrian heaved a sigh and patted his shoulder. "Well, hell, yeah. Come on."

                                                ***

The sound intruded on his restless sleep and it took a long moment for Frank to realize it was the sound of a helicopter. He glanced at his watch and saw it was twelve-thirty. After midnight, he realized. He looked around and noticed that one of the emergency lights had gone out.

There was a loud screech and a snapping sound and the door opened, letting in cold air. Two people stepped in, flashing high-powered flashlights around. "Everyone okay in here?"

Frank pushed himself to his feet. "Pilot's in the cockpit. We didn't move him because we worried about causing more injury."

The person slipped the ski goggles off and nodded. Frank saw it was a woman. Her blue eyes scanned the people waking up. "Good. Tommy, get a team in here to check the pilot." She looked back at Frank. "I was told there would be ten, counting the pilot."

Frank took a deep breath and felt a spurt of panic. "My brother and the band's drummer went for help."

"Damn," said the woman. She spun on her heel and walked out of the plane.

"Wha's goin' on?" came Marc's voice, sounding hoarse and disoriented.

Frank turned to look at him. "We're being rescued."

"Thank God," said Ian, standing up. "Adrian came through, so did Joe."

Frank's panic was swelling up inside of him. "I don't think so."

The rest of the band was stirring as people came in to check on them. Leigh looked at Frank and winced. "Don't even think that."

"If Adrian and Joe had found them, do you think they'd be asking why two are missing?" asked Frank, his tone harsh with worry and panic.

Marc managed to get to his feet. "Oh God, no."

Frank looked over at him and saw his eyes were normal now. Maybe it hadn't been a concussion after all.

The woman walked back in. "We've radioed for another helicopter. They'll look for them. But snowdrifts are high tonight. If they've stepped into one and fallen, well..."

"Lovely bedside manner, Tanya," said Tommy as he went to extricate the pilot.

She shot him a glare and looked at Frank. "Are you injured?"

"My knee. Banged it pretty hard."

"I'll look it over. You may need a temporary brace." She looked at Leigh. "Arm broken?"

Leigh nodded. "Yes," she whispered.

"Okay, people, we'll get you fixed up and out of here where it's warm."

Frank slowly sat back down. He was too worried about Joe to be reassured that everyone else would be okay. Oh God, where was Joe?                  

                                                ***

"Rescue teams have been dispatched to search for two of the ten people on the plane. Seems two brave souls went in search of help."

Fenton sat up, startled out of a fitful doze. Only the last few words registered and he felt his worry grow. Who else would go in search of help? he thought. He shuddered, thinking of his sons out in the storm. What a Christmas this was turning out to be.

He stared at the anchorman talking but didn't really hear him. All he could think about was that his sons were in danger and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

Except pray. The thought came out of nowhere. Fenton took a deep breath. That was all he could do.

                                                ***

Snow lay thick in the yard and the various children were trying their hand at building snowmen. Her husband was out there as well, showing their sons the proper way to build a snowman. Joe, five, and Frank, six, and their friends were listening in rapt attention as Fenton demonstrated how to roll the snowballs large enough for the base of the snowman.

The little four-year-old girl with the violet eyes and long dark hair turned to look at Laura through the window. She smiled and waved, but then started walking toward the window. As she walked, she seemed to grow older – six years old, ten years old. By the time Iola reached the window, she was sixteen. She gazed at Laura for what seemed like forever...and then in a strange flash of light she was gone.

Laura stared at the spot where Iola had been and felt a chill. She heard an odd flapping sound like wings moving in the silence, and she heard a bell chime. For a moment, she thought she saw Iola again but she wasn't sure.

When she looked back at the front yard, it was dark and empty with no snowman. It looked barren and cold as if all the life was gone out of  the yard—

Laura sat up, breathing heavily. Oh dear God, what kind of dream was that? Iola had been dead for a little over two years now. Laura didn't remember ever dreaming about Iola Morton before, and dreaming about her tonight made her cold within her heart. Oh God, please don't let it be an omen of what's to come, she thought desperately. Oh God please, she thought, bursting into tears. Please let them be safe...

                                                ***

Joe was cold and it was beginning to really hurt to take deep breaths. Adrian was walking more slowly, to stay by his side. A strange warmth on his injured side made him look to his left, but he didn't see anything. In a moment of clarity, he realized he hadn't even checked to see if there was perhaps a bruise or worse. He turned to Adrian. "It feels really warm right where it hurts."

Adrian frowned and unbuttoned Joe's coat. He pushed it aside and lifted up the sweater. He could see an ugly greenish-purple bruise spread across the younger man's side, but no sign of blood or any puncture wound. "It looks badly bruised."

"No blood?"

"No." Adrian let the sweater fall and re-buttoned Joe's coat. "Why?"

"I thought..." Joe shook his head. "Never mind."

Adrian frowned and glanced up at the night sky. "You hear that? Sounds like bells."

Joe started to tell the man he was crazy, but then he heard it too. It was very faint, almost like a church bell very far away. "You think we're close to a town?"

"Let's hope so."  Adrian started to walk faster. "Let's go."

Joe tried to keep up with Adrian but he found himself falling further and further behind. By now, his side was burning and hurting all at the same time. "Adrian."

Adrian was several yards ahead but he turned around. He hurried back to Joe. "What's wrong?"

"I need to rest."

Adrian looked uneasy but nodded. "Just a few minutes, okay."

Joe practically collapsed to the ground. He sighed and groaned at the same time. Adrian frowned down at him. "Your side still hurting?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe we can get back to the plane."

"We need to get help."

Adrian looked over at him. "What if we're the ones needing help?" He sat down next to Joe. "Try to save your strength for a few minutes and we'll start back."

Joe groaned from the pain in his side. "I think I agree with Erick; no more planes."

"Well, until they build that underwater highway from America to Europe, he'll have to do airplanes to get overseas. We'll just knock him out, then I can fly."

"You can fly?"

"Nah.  I'm just the crazy one, remember?"

Joe flashed back to an old TV series that Frank absolutely loathed but he'd liked. "You're like that guy on The A Team."

Adrian laughed. "So someone else has seen the show. The guys act like they've never seen an episode." He sobered slightly. "Let's get you up and moving. We stay like this too long and we'll both freeze."

There was a brilliant flash of light just then that blinded both of them. Joe blinked, seeing only red spots against the dark night. "What was that?"

"I don't know." Adrian tilted his head back. "But...do you hear that?"

Joe frowned. "Is that...a helicopter? Or am I dreaming?"

"Well, mass hallucinations are not unheard-of."

Joe arched an eyebrow. "You're not helping." There was another flash of light and for just a minute, Joe thought he saw an afterimage of a girl. Not just any girl though. He swallowed hard. It had looked like Iola.

"Hey, what's that?" asked Adrian.

Joe looked and saw what looked like a huge flashlight floating rapidly toward them. Then he realized what it was – a searchlight attached to a helicopter. Now the sound of the blades was growing louder.

The helicopter came closer and someone jumped out of one side, as the blades whipped at the snow. The person was dressed in cold weather gear and had a flashlight in one hand. "Hey, you guys Joe and Adrian?"

Adrian grinned. "Yeah, man, what took you so long?"

The man grunted. "I could give you two a lecture about taking off on your own in these conditions. If it hadn't been for your flare, we would never have found you."

Adrian stared at him. "Flare? We didn't set off a flare."

The man shook his head. "Had to have been. We saw the flash from the air."

Joe looked in the direction he'd seen the second flash and felt tears fill his eyes. He had a good idea of what happened, but everyone would think he was crazy. He'd keep the truth close to his heart.

                                                ***

Frank Hardy hated crutches with a passion – even more so now, he thought as he made his way down the hallway. Each step made his shoulders ache. He sighed. At least the knee was only bruised, not seriously damaged.

Slowly, he made his way to his brother's room. Because he'd come with one group and Joe and Adrian had come much later, it was only just now he was learning where Joe was. He'd spent the last few hours worried sick.

Daylight was just filtering into his brother's room when he made it through the door, trying to be as quiet as possible with the crutches.

"You could wake up the dead, you know."

Frank looked over at him. "You should know. You look half-dead."

"You are such an encouragement. Hello to you."

Frank's mood darkened. "God, Joe, you scared the life out of me."

Joe stared out the window. "Seemed a good idea to me."

"Scaring the life out of me?"

"Going for help."

Frank sighed. "I've been trying to call Mom and Dad, but the phone lines are down. Seems the storm we ran into went on to hit New York City."

Joe groaned. "Bet Mom's worried. And I can just hear Aunt Gertrude."

Frank gave a rueful smile. "So can I." His faint smile faded.  "Christmas Eve is Saturday."

Joe pointed to the window, and then winced as it jarred his three cracked ribs. "It's only Thursday."

"We're back in Albany. I talked with Ian. Carl Dixon is having the bus driven up here. That's how we're going back."

"Good, I'm not up to a plane ride right now."

"We might not get back in time. We promised Mom we'd be back for Christmas Eve."

Joe stared out the window for a long moment and then turned to Frank. "Have faith, Frank."

Frank frowned. "What happened out there?"

Joe shook his head. "Nothing."

"Adrian said the helicopter guy said he saw a flare. Adrian said you didn't set off a flare."

"We didn't."

Frank thought a moment. "Then what? What did he see?

"I don't know, but whatever he saw helped him find us." Joe finally turned to look at his brother and Frank felt a moment's surprise. Joe looked peaceful.

Frank's eyes widened. "Are you saying it's a miracle?"

Joe smiled, a contented, at-peace smile. "What do you think?"

Frank shivered at the thought and then made his way to the chair. "I think you're right, little brother. This time."

                                                         ***

Daylight streaming through the living room window roused Laura from her restless sleep. She sat up and swallowed hard, remembering the odd dream of the night before. She got up off the sofa, somewhat stiff from sleeping there, and walked to the window.

The sky was a pale clear blue, the snow was pure white; houses across the street had on their holiday finery and on a few, lights still glowed because the owners weren't awake yet.

Laura remembered the dream and felt tears fill her eyes. She walked over to her husband's office and opened the door. She didn't know what else to do to feel close to him. She'd tried calling several times last night and found the phone lines were down.

With a tearful sigh, she sat down in his desk chair and stared at the rows of filing cabinets. A movement caught her eye and she saw that Fenton's computer was on, the screensaver morphing from one scene to another.  Why was his computer on? She could have sworn he'd switched it off before he left for the city.

She shook her head and leaned back in the chair, only to notice the icon for the Internet was active. Her eyes widened. How was that possible? She knew their Internet provider was connected with their cable company, so that it was in no way attached to the phone line. Puzzled, she nudged the mouse and clicked on the icon. The screen came up and announced that Fenton had mail.

Laura hesitated a moment before clicking on the mailbox. It was just so strange to see he'd left everything running. The mailbox opened and listed the e-mails, starting with the most recent. She was startled to see her name. She clicked on her name and the computer opened the e-mail.

She was glad she was sitting down. Eerily enough, it was from Fenton. The hotel had computers and he'd been surprised to find that now that the storm had dwindled to nothing, he could use e-mail but not the regular phone.

Her relief at having some sort of contact with Fenton soon faded as he told her of the news reports from the night before. A hand flew to her mouth to stifle a sob as she read what he'd written. Oh God, her babies. She sat there, reading, feeling her soul shrivel just a little.

"Laura?"

Laura jumped and turned to see Gertrude standing there, clad in a robe and slippers, not even dressed for the day. "Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"I—" Laura swallowed hard and shook her head. "No," she finally whispered.

Gertrude frowned and walked over to the desk. She read the e-mail and her frown deepened. "My God."

"Fenton said cable went out just before he heard whether or not the rescue teams found them." Laura shivered. "My boys..."

Gertrude gave her a hug and felt her own eyes tear up. Those boys had to be okay. She wouldn't accept anything less.

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.