Joe tried to take in a deep breath, but his chest hurt. In fact, he didn’t think there was a part of his body that didn’t hurt. He tried to push himself up, but couldn’t. There was a heavy weight pushing down on him. He slowly moved his hand to his head and could feel something wet and sticky. From the throbbing he felt inside his head, he assumed there was a gash that was bleeding, and it was big.  

Joe slowly tried to move his other arm and felt a twinge of pain. He didn’t think his arm was broken, but he was hurt. He then tried moving his legs. His right one was able to move a little, but he couldn’t move his left one at all. That scared him and knew it was necessary to get out of the rubble that had buried him.  

Joe moistened his lips and croaked, “Dad?” There was no answer, so he tried a little louder. “Dad?”  

He didn’t like the silence and figured his father was also hurt, buried beneath the rubble. He knew he needed to get loose if he was to help his father.  

Joe ignored his own pain and slowly, but methodically, began pushing loose debris away from him. He hoped that would move enough so he could turn over. Every couple minutes he would stop and rest. He knew if he did too much too quickly, he would pass out. The breaks seemed to help him focus a little better when he renewed his task.  

Joe had not gotten far when he heard some movement nearby. He took a deep breath, as best as he could, and hoped he could be heard. “Over here!”  

“We’re coming!” a muffled voice responded.  

Joe kept repeating the same two words over and over so that his position would be pinpointed.  

After a few minutes, he could feel the large pieces of debris being lifted off his back. The small boards were pulled off him and he was able to raise his head. He was relieved to see several police officers, firefighters and paramedics digging through the remains of the barn.  

Several more minutes passed until he was able to roll himself onto his back. It was then that he saw the paramedics tending to his father. Fenton was unconscious and his face was covered with blood.  

“Is he all right?” Joe asked.  

“He’s got a strong heartbeat and is breathing on his own,” one paramedic said, who was tending to Fenton.  

“I think we should get you out of here,” one firefighter said.  

“All right.” Joe lifted his arms to the emergency personnel. Once he had their hands in his grasp, he pulled himself to his feet, wincing when he put pressure on his left foot. The paramedics lifted him over the pile of rubble by their feet and away from the building. He was taken over to an ambulance that was parked in the driveway.  

As he sat down on the back of the ambulance, he finally got a good look at the farmhouse. He saw that the whole front of the house had collapsed, scattering boards and glass all over the ground.  

“Let’s clean you up a bit,” a paramedic said.  

“Okay,” Joe said distractedly. He was busy watching the emergency personnel shuffle through the mess, looking for any other survivors. He recalled al that had happened and was disappointed that he had been unable to find out where his brother was.  

He watched as a stretcher was carried away from the rubble with his father on it. The stretcher was brought to the ambulance beside the one he was sitting on. Joe saw an IV had been administered to his father. There was also a bandage wrapped around his head.  

The paramedic looked at Joe. “We are going to take him to the hospital so he can receive treatment.”  

“All right,” Joe said. “Let the doctors know that I will contact my mom.”  

“No problem,” the paramedic said.  

Within minutes, Fenton was loaded into the back of the ambulance and was on his way to the hospital, with sirens blaring.  

Joe allowed the paramedic to finish treating his superficial wounds and covering the cut on his forehead and the one on his left arm with bandages. Once the paramedic was done, he was instructed to stay put where he went to see if there were any more injuries.  

Once alone, Joe gently got to feet and placed some weight on his sore leg. There was still some pain, but he didn’t feel as if it was going to collapse underneath him. Taking tentative steps, Joe moved toward the house. He was stunned at just how little of the house had been left. He knew that if anyone else had been inside, there would not have been anyway for them to survive. He and his father had been in the barn and they were still injured.  

“This is a mess,” a voice said behind him.  

Joe turned and saw the Gray Man standing there. Joe’s gaze returned to the house. “It sure is.”  

“I saw your father leave in the ambulance.”  

“He’s hurt, but I don’t think it’s too serious,” Joe said.  

“And how are you?”  

“Functioning,” Joe said. He really didn’t know how he was. There was too much going on and he couldn’t really focus.  

“Tell me what happened,” the Gray Man said.  

Joe quickly related what he had seen and done once he arrived at the farmhouse. “It was just so weird to know that a man who looked exactly like you tried to kill my father.”  

“But we do know the Assassins have the ability to make doubles,” the Gray Man said.  

“I know. But when I was told you were the one who had taken Frank, I was livid. I was so ready to find you myself and really give you a piece of my mind.”  

“Wait a minute,” the Gray Man said. “Who said I was the one who took Frank?”  

“Caren,” Joe said. “She had been with Frank when they were taken. She was then taken to the mall this morning and left there. I had asked her who had taken them and she described you perfectly.”  

“But it wasn’t me,” the Gray Man said.  

“I know that now,” Joe said. “I figured it was a double when I saw the other you moving to the barn and was talking to you on the phone at the same time.”  

“And where is the woman now?” the Gray Man asked.  

“She’s safe. I made sure of it before I followed my father.”  

A man approached them and said, “Sir, we’ve found some tracks heading into the fields behind the barn. Several people must have escaped.”  

“Get the chopper into the air and see if they can spot anything out of the ordinary.”  

“Yes, sir,” the man said and hurried away from them.  

Joe focused on the destruction in front of him. He couldn’t believe he had lost the opportunity to find out where his brother was and rescue him. Boxman’s words rang through his head. “Once I take care of you, your son will be joining you.” Joe knew that had he been faster and caught on to who this person was, then there would have been a better chance to find his older brother.  

At that moment, Joe swayed and was grateful when the Gray Man took hold of his arm to steady him.  

“You need to sit down,” the Gray Man said, kindness filling his voice.  

“I’m all right,” Joe said, trying to ignore the dizziness he was feeling.  

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, Joe,” the Gray Man said as he led Joe back to the ambulance. Joe didn’t even realize the Gray Man hadn’t called him by his proper name. “Your body needs to rest and recover.”  

“I can’t sit and do nothing,” Joe said as he sank down on the back of the ambulance. He looked up at the Gray Man. “I have to find Frank.”  

“Joseph, you know as well as I do, that the Assassins don’t leave loose ends,” the Gray Man said. “Your brother was more than likely killed hours ago.”  

Joe closed his eyes and tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. He didn’t want to believe what the Gray Man said as being true, but deep down he had a feeling the Gray Man was right. The Assassins wouldn’t leave anyone standing if they could help it.  

He couldn’t believe he would never see his brown-haired brother again. He would miss his over-protectiveness to keep him from getting hurt or jumping into a situation before thinking. He would miss seeing his grinning face when he came down the stairs or cam home from school. He would really miss just handing out with his best friend.  

“Joe, here. This may help.”  

He lifted his head and opened his eyes to see the Gray Man holding a bottle of sports drink in his hand.  

Joe took the bottle and removed the lid. The tangy drink didn’t even register on his taste buds. Shock was setting in.  

He knew he was going to have to be the one to break it to his parents that Frank was gone. He didn’t think it was right that this had happened. His brother had not done anything to that man, but ended up paying the most valuable price: his life.  

Joe lowered the bottle and covered his mouth with one hand as he felt his stomach start to rebel. He didn’t want to be sick, but knew there was no stopping it. He leaned to the side and was violently ill.  

When he was done, he poured a little more of the sports drink in his mouth and spitted it out.  

“Come on, Joe,” the Gray Man said. “I think it’s time you headed to the hospital.”  

“Fine,” Joe said.  

He allowed the paramedics to help him up into the ambulance and to lean back on the stretcher. He closed his eyes, fighting the tears that were forming.  

The Gray Man said, “I’ll keep you posted.”  

Joe nodded. He felt the ambulance shift as someone climbed out of the back. He heard one door close and wished that what he was living was a nightmare. But he knew this was a nightmare that would forever change his life. The other door was slammed shut.  

As the engine to the ambulance was started, a yell was heard, “We found someone alive!”

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