"Check the trunk!" Fenton began barking orders at Frank as he searched Rashman's pockets for the key that would unlock the chains holding Joe to the fence. "Grab anything we can use…water, towels, blankets. Anything."

Frank stood, rooted to the same spot, staring helplessly at his brother, his emotions changing by the second. Anger, heartache, pain, anguish, unbridled rage. ‘I should have killed him when I had the chance!’ He thought, glancing at Rashman, stunned by his own emotions.

"Now, Frank! Move!" his father yelled.

Startled out of his daze, Frank raced to the car and grabbed everything he could carry.

Using the knife Rashman had dropped on the ground, Fenton very carefully cut the leather from Joe’s neck and wrists. He felt a new wave of anger as he saw the deep red indentations they had left. Having found a key in Rashman’s pocket, Fenton knelt down on the ground in front of Joe to unlock the chain holding his ankles to the post, praying it would fit in the lock. That was when he noticed the knife wound on Joe’s foot. Reaching up, he gently touched Joe’s cheek.

"I’m so sorry, son." He whispered. "I’m so sorry we didn’t find you sooner."

Turning the key, Fenton breathed a sigh of relief as the lock popped open. Seconds later, Frank reappeared at his side.

"First aid kit, water, towels, blankets." Frank said breathlessly. "And he had Joe's shirt, jacket, shoes, socks and cell phone in there too."

"Pour the water on his arm; make sure you soak it completely. Then saturate a bandage with water and loosely cover his arm with it." Fenton said.

He watched as Frank fumbled with the cap on the water bottle and his heart broke. He knew he shouldn’t have to tell Frank what to do to help his brother. Frank had taken emergency first aid and was well aware of what needed to be done. Fenton didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse but his older son, who could remain calm and in total control in virtually any crisis, let his emotions take over when it came to Joe. He reached out and put a comforting hand on Frank’s shoulder. Taking the water bottle, Fenton unscrewed the cap and handed it back to Frank.

"He’ll make it, Frank." Fenton tried to reassure him.

Fenton waited until Frank was done cleaning and bandaging Joe’s arm, then handed him the small key. He positioned himself to catch Joe once he was free of the chains. When he was ready he looked at Frank.

"Left arm first; then the right."

Nodding once again, Frank reached out to unlock the chain holding Joe’s left arm securely to the fence. Inadvertently, Frank pulled on the chain trying to insert the key into the lock. Joe’s arm brushed up against the hard wood of the fence and although he remained unconscious, he moaned in pain.

"Sorry, baby brother." Frank mumbled, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"It’s ok, Frank." His father reassured him, as the lock clicked open.

Frank quickly pulled the chain away, throwing it on the ground. Joe awkwardly fell forward into his father’s arms, as his right wrist was still secured in place. Stepping over his father, Frank unlocked the chain on Joe’s right wrist and pulled it off watching as his father caught Joe before he fell to the ground.

"Blanket!" Fenton barked and Frank stepped forward wrapping one of the heavy blankets around his brother.

Laying Joe on the ground, Fenton pulled the bottom edge of the blanket back to get a better look at the knife wound on Joe’s foot.

"Any water left?" he asked, curtly, examining the wound.

Frank silently passed the bottle to his father. Pouring some of the water onto a towel, he cleaned Joe's foot as best he could, wincing when Joe moaned and moved, as if trying to pull his foot away.

"Did you find a flashlight, by any chance?" Fenton asked looking at Frank, who produced one from the pile he had retrieved from the car.

Shining the flashlight on Joe’s foot, Fenton leaned down for a closer look. He thought back to that morning and recalled the gas station attendant telling them Rashman had purchased salt along with gas and water. He realized what the white residue was in and around the wound on Joe’s foot, and fought to choke back the hatred that rose in him.

‘Please, God, don’t let me lose control now. My son needs me.’ Eyes closed, Fenton prayed for divine intervention wanting nothing more than to murder the man who had subjected Joe to such unthinkable horrors.

Watching silently, Frank saw his father’s jaw twitch. Seconds later, Fenton Hardy opened his eyes and glared at the unconscious Rashman.

"You son of a bitch." He hissed at the man. "You will pay for this. I promise you that."

Returning his attention to Joe, Fenton wrapped his foot in a clean bandage and covered Joe with the blanket once again.

"Don't worry, little brother. I'm here now." Frank whispered, kneeling close to Joe. "I won't let him hurt you again."

Fenton let Frank continue talking to Joe, while he used the chains that had held Joe to the fence to secure Rashman and Malick, making sure escape would be impossible. Turning back to his sons, Fenton lifted Joe into his arms with seeming ease. Hurrying to the car, he began barking orders at Frank once more.

"Put a blanket in the back seat and get in. You sit back here with Joe; I’ll drive."

Frank quickly collected up the gun, knife, first aid kit, remaining towels, blankets and other items. Running back to the car, he placed everything on the floor and climbed in. Spreading a blanket on the seat, he sat back and helped his father get Joe into the car. He spread another blanket over Joe and cradled his brother’s head in his lap.

As Fenton settled into the drivers seat, both he and Frank heard a wheezing, rattling sound and Joe began struggling to breathe. As Joe began coughing up blood, Frank froze, looking to his father for help. Fenton whirled around in the seat and leaned over trying to grab Joe’s arms.

"Sit him up! He can’t breathe laying down!" he cried out.

Together, Frank and Fenton managed to get Joe into a more upright position. Frank wrapped his arms around his brother and held Joe tightly to his chest. Neither Frank nor his father moved until they heard Joe’s breathing become a little easier.

Turning back around, Fenton started the car and pressed down on the gas pedal. "Hold onto him. It’ll be bumpy until we get back to the main road but every second counts."

Frank held onto his brother trying to keep him as still as possible. Every once in a while, when Fenton would hit a particularly large bump in the rutted dirt road, Joe would groan out loud. Frank began to pray those wouldn’t be the last sounds he heard from his brother.

"Hang on, baby brother. Just a little bit longer." Frank whispered in Joe's ear. "You made it this far; you can't die on me now."

As soon as he hit the main road, Fenton pulled out his cell phone. He was about to toss it back to Frank when he caught site of his two sons in the rear view mirror. Frank was holding onto his younger brother tightly, his eyes closed. Although Frank's voice was inaudible, Fenton could see his lips moving as he kept up a continuous, one-sided conversation with Joe. Fenton blinked back tears. He couldn't even imagine the nightmare Frank's life would become if Joe died.

Taking his eyes off the road for a second, Fenton dialed 911. As soon as the dispatcher answered, he quickly but calmly explained what had happened and the extent of Joe's injuries. He answered several questions about Joe's condition as best he could and listened for another minute before hanging up.

"Frank?" he said, quietly, checking the mirror once again to make sure Frank had heard him.

"Yes?" Frank replied in a shaky voice.

"A MedEvac chopper is going to meet us a few miles up the road. They're going to take Joe in the helicopter." He waited, knowing Frank would not want to leave his brothers side.

"But…I won't be able to go with him." Frank whispered.

"I know, son, but the nearest trauma center is over an hour away by car. Joe needs medical attention now. They can get started on him right in the chopper and he'll be at the hospital in less than twenty minutes."

Frank closed his eyes in anguish. He had just gotten his brother back and now he had to let him go again.

"Frank, we have no choice. If we don't do it this way Joe could -"

"No!" Frank said fiercely. "He didn't fight this hard to die now!" Holding Joe tightly, Frank resumed his whispered, one-way conversation with his brother.

Within minutes, Fenton saw a police blockade up ahead and was able to make out the chopper sitting in the road just beyond it. Pulling up to the police cars, he stopped the car and scrambled out, waving at the EMT's who were standing next to a stretcher. They ran forward as Fenton opened the rear door of the car.

One of the EMT's reached in to take Joe out of the car, when Frank gripped his brother tightly. Fenton ran to the other side of the car and climbed into the seat beside his sons and began speaking to Frank.

"Please, Frank, let him go. I know it's hard, but you have to let them take Joe now."

Frank looked at his father with haunted eyes, the severity of the situation hitting him full force. "What if I let him go and I never see him alive again?"

Fenton swallowed hard knowing Frank could very well be right.

"If you don’t let him go now, he’ll die for sure. Please, Frank, let him go." Fenton pleaded with his oldest son.

Frank squeezed his eyes shut, as if in prayer. "We’ll be there in an hour, Joe, so hang on…ok, little brother?" Frank whispered. Giving Joe a final hug, Frank nodded to the EMT’s who quickly removed Joe from the car and transported him to the waiting helicopter.