"We’ll follow these and see where they lead." Frank pointed to the tracks left by the ATV’s. "If it’s a dead end, we’ll split up. We need to be as quiet as possible. I have no idea how many men Jarrell has with him or where they are." Frank warned.

Nodding or murmuring their understanding, the four young men followed Frank down the trail and into the woods, following the tracks. Forty-five minutes later, the group found themselves standing on the edge of a shallow stream.

"Damn." Frank cursed as his eyes followed the vehicles tracks into the water.

"Either they crossed the stream or rode just inside the waters edge so they couldn’t be followed." Phil surmised. "What do you want to do now?" He turned to Frank.

"Let’s split up. I’ll take this section here and keep walking along the stream. Maybe they came back onto land a little further up and I can pick up the trail again." Frank replied. "Does everyone else know where they’re heading?" He asked.

After receiving positive responses from all, Frank reminded them to check in on the walkie-talkies every hour or if they found something, but otherwise to remain silent.

"I don’t want Jarrell to know we’re around. We need the element of surprise." With a final ‘good luck’ to his friends, Frank headed off, walking along the stream’s edge painfully aware of each minute that ticked by. Time was not on his side.

*****

Later that afternoon, as Joe slept, Laura sat close by keeping a watchful eye on her son. Glancing at the second plastic bag she had tossed outside the cell, she began to have serious doubts about trying to escape. When Jarrell had sandwiches brought in for lunch, Joe had declared he was hungry enough to eat. He’d barely made it through half a sandwich, however, before becoming violently ill. That, in turn, had intensified the stabbing pain in his ribs, which he’d been unable to keep hidden from his mother. Trying to make him as comfortable as possible, Laura had been relieved when Joe finally drifted off into a restless sleep. Watching him for the past hour, Laura notice Joe had broken out in a light sweat. Placing her hand gently on his cheek, she realized his temperature had risen.

"I think we should stay." She announced abruptly.

"What?" Fenton asked, surprised.

"Joe’s getting worse. He shouldn’t be moved." She frowned.

While Fenton had come to that same conclusion earlier, he knew something Laura didn’t. When all was said and done, Jarrell would probably free Laura as promised. He might even let Fenton go, but he had no intention of letting Joe leave that cell alive. As far as Jarrell was concerned, betrayal was punishable only by death. No matter how badly Joe was injured or how sick he became, their only chance of getting him out alive was to attempt an escape.

"I can see Joe is getting worse, honey. But we have no choice. Do you honestly think I’d ask him to move in that condition if I thought there was any other way?" Fenton said gently.

"He’s got a severe concussion. The more he moves around, the worse the symptoms will get. God knows how much more damage throwing up has done to his ribs. And his temperature is going up. He needs rest." Laura protested. "I’m sure Frank is already out there trying to find us. Why can’t we just wait for him?"

"Laura, if we stay here Jarrell will see to it that Joe gets a permanent rest." Fenton replied bluntly. "And I’m sure you’re right. Frank has probably already mounted a search for us. But he has no idea where to start looking. We have to at least try and meet him halfway." He pleaded with his wife.

"Dad’s right." Joe said hoarsely, startling both his parents.

"How do you feel, sweetie?" Laura asked, instantly returning all her attention to Joe.

"Great." Joe smiled weakly.

"Didn’t we teach you not to lie?" She scolded him with a smile.

Joe grinned and then held his arms out towards his mother. "Can you check these?" He requested indicating the bandages on his wrists. "I think you made them a little too tight."

"Do they hurt?" Laura asked anxiously, taking one of Joe’s hands.

"A little." Joe admitted, not wanting to tell her how badly the bandages were digging into his skin.

Leaning down, Laura looked closely at Joe’s wrist and stifled a gasp. The gauze and tape she had wrapped so loosely was now tightly constricting Joe’s wrists, which were swollen and inflamed. Removing the bandages, Laura peered at the deep cuts and lacerations.

"They’re infected." She said, concerned. Reaching for the First Aid kit, she removed the nearly empty bottle of antiseptic and held it up for Joe to see. "I’m sorry, honey. It’s going to hurt."

Joe shrugged and attempted a smile. "Between my head and my ribs, I won’t even feel it." He said holding his arms over the small towel Laura had laid on the floor next to him. "Go ahead."

Looking at Joe apologetically, Laura poured what was left of the antiseptic over the open wounds, cringing at the bubbles and hissing sounds it made when it hit the infected areas. Inhaling sharply, Joe bit back a cry of pain that he was completely unprepared for.

"Joe? Honey? Are you okay?" Laura asked remorsefully.

"Fine." Joe managed to choke out, biting his lip.

"I need to bandage them again."

Joe nodded. "Gimme a second?" He requested, automatically pulling his hands out of her reach.

As Laura pulled the needed items out of the plastic box, Fenton knelt down next to Joe, squeezing his shoulder.

"How are you doing, son?" He asked, seeing how pale Joe had become despite the feverish flush he’d had all day.

"I’m okay, Dad. No problem." Joe lied, not wanting to worry his parents any more than they all ready were.

In truth, Joe was burning up, his ribs were sending out waves of searing pain at even the slightest movement, his head was pounding so hard Joe was sure it was about to explode and the pain caused by the antiseptic attacking his now infected wrists had almost made him throw up for the third time.

‘All in all not one of my best days.’ Joe thought sarcastically. Holding out his arms towards his mother, Joe smiled. "Ready."

Very carefully, Laura put clean bandages on Joe’s wounds, wrapping them even more loosely than she had the first time. While Fenton returned the supplies to the First Aid kit, Laura poured some water on a small towel and dabbed at Joe’s face in an effort to cool him off.

"Lay back and rest, sweetie. If we’re going through with this tonight, you’ll need as much sleep as you can get." She said with a piercing look at her husband, still not convinced Joe should be moved.

Joe gave a small nod and lay back closing his eyes, letting his mother take care of him as he fell asleep once more.

*****

As darkness descended on the wooded area, Frank, Biff, Tony, Chet and Phil reconvened at Frank’s car, their moods as black as the night would soon become. Unable to turn up any sign of Joe or his captors, they agreed to meet again in the morning and resume their search. At Frank’s request, Biff drove Joe’s car back to Frank’s house. Frank then drove him out to the Morton farm where Biff had left his SUV.

"We have to find them tomorrow." Frank said, the tension evident in his voice and on his face.

"Frank, if you were to do what Jarrell asked, what are the chances he’d really let them go?" Biff asked.

"I think he’d let Mom go. Dad, maybe. Joe…never." He replied, staring straight ahead.