Chapter #42The Secret of Camp Double Bluff (1) by: Seuzz   You settle back with a sigh. Ursula seems to spend an undue amount of time putting her things together, as though waiting for you to argue her out of leaving. But you say nothing. Finally, with a snort, she gives you a dirty look and stalks out the door.
Frank rises with a grunt and steps into the kitchen. "Should have tried it without all the bullshit," he says as he opens the refrigerator and pulls out two soda cans. "She'd have taken plainer bait."
"Meh. Half the fun was in trying to snow her. What've we got to eat?"
"Cereal and soup. Dad won't deposit next month's allowance for a few more days." Frank hands you one of the cans. "We're gonna have to scrounge or leech off some classmates."
"Lotta marks out there," you reflect. "For food and accomplices." You stare critically at the soda Frank has handed you. "Gotta be some with better taste in soft drinks, too." He whaps you on the side of the head.
* * * * *
Your retort notwithstanding, you're rather bummed that things didn't work out with Ursula, and are restless the entire evening. Frank retires to the backyard early, to meditate or do what passes for meditation in a golem. You surf the TV channels, then irritably throw the remote aside and lurch into the bedroom, to collapse on the bed. Your eye flicks over the books on the shelves, part of the handful Joe brought with him to Saratoga Falls. Books on metaphysics, advanced musical composition, mathematics—
Hey, what's that one? You'd not noticed that Frank had packed a few titles for himself: an Encyclopedia Brown collection, a couple of Choose Your Own Adventures, a really old Matt Mason "Little Big Book." Earnest juvenilia, stuff much more Frank's intellectual speed, you grin to yourself.
Your smile turns sentimental, though, at the sight of a short line of ragged hardbacks. Of course Joe and Frank had loved the Hardy Boys when growing up. You pull one down. Oh yeah, this one. You have to grin: Given current circumstances, its sudden reappearance seems peculiarly apt. You hop back onto the bed and study the cover: an outdoor scene, showing log cabins and other rustic accouterments. Atop one of them, incongruously, is a satellite dish, which identifies this title as one of the more recently published adventures. In the foreground, Frank and Joe Hardy are helping a girl to escape armed pursuers, who are being led by what appears to be the girl's twin sister.
You trace a finger over the title (in blistering red, so it means excitement): The Hardy Boys: The Secret of Camp Double Bluff. you open it up and start to read.
* * * * *
Chapter 1
"WE SHOULD MOVE up to the other lake," Frank Hardy said. He shaded his eyes and peered up the stream toward the ridge of tall pines.
"The fish are always biting on the other side of the fence," his brother Joe replied. He grinned. But he knew that Frank knew his business. Frank always prepared ahead of time, whether they were on an adventure or just relaxing on vacation, as they were now.
Frank directed Joe to gather up their rods and tackle while he studied the map. He peered closely at it, then shaded his eyes as he gazed at the far edge of the small lake they had been fishing at for most of the morning.
"This is very strange, Joe," he said. He pointed across the lake. "Do you see two streams over there?"
Joe shaded his eyes. "Yes," he replied. He pointed. "There and there."
"But look at the map," his brother said. "This is the most recent survey map, the one we picked up from the Forest Service. It only shows one stream, the one coming down from the other lake."
Joe stroked his chin. "Maybe there was a flood, and the stream divided in two farther up?"
"Maybe," his brother said thoughtfully. "In that case, I suppose it doesn't matter which one we follow."
He helped Joe stow the rest of their gear in their packs, and then they hiked their packs onto their backs. They made their slow way around the edge of the lake.
But when they arrived at the first stream, Frank stopped. "This doesn't make sense. There's a ridge between them. It's too big for this to be one stream that's divided."
"Are you sure we're at the right lake," Joe asked. He didn't like suggesting that his brother had led them to the wrong spot, but Frank always said they had to entertain any hypothesis when faced with a mystery.
Frank's face tightened. "I suppose we could double check our location with the GPS unit that ATAC gave us. But I didn't think I could have gotten us--"
He stopped, for Joe had grabbed his arm. "There's something in moving among the trees. Maybe it's a deer," he added excitedly.
Frank smiled. "Then we should go take a look. Do you want me to get your camera out of your pack?"
Joe shook his head. He was too excited when he got a scent in his nose. He trotted heavily up the slope into the screen of trees. Frank followed.
Just a few feet in, they both stopped with their mouths hanging open. A human figure, dressed in white, was crouching next to a tree, like she was trying to hide. It was a girl, and she looked like she was about fifteen years old. She had long brown hair, and her face was also brown. But her eyes were very blue. Joe thought they were the bluest eyes he had ever seen.
She turned these eyes, wide with terror, on the brothers, then hid her face and cowered. "Please, don't hurt me," she gasped.
Frank and Joe looked at each other, and then hurried over to her. They had helped lots of people in trouble before, and their instinct was definitely to help this girl.
"It's alright," Frank said in a firm but gentle tone. He knew better than to touch her, for it would frighten her. Instead, he hunched down a foot or two back. "We're just campers. What's wrong?"
She looked back fearfully, and Frank could see that she had been crying. "There are men trying to catch me," she said in a small voice. "I left camp without permission."
"What camp is this," Joe asked.
Frank laid his hand on Joe's arm and shook his head. "Our truck is back down there," he said to the girl, and pointed down the stream. "We'll take you to it. We have water and food there. You'll feel better, and we'll talk about it."
The girl sniffed, and glanced between them. "You're not from the camp?"
Joe shook his head. "We don't even know what camp you're talking about. We didn't know there was one up here."
The girl swallowed, then put her hand in Frank's outstretched hand. She gave him a small smile as he helped her to stand.
Frank looked her up and down very quickly, looking for clues to what might be going on. Her dress was thin and white. Frank thought it looked more like a hospital gown than a proper dress. He noticed that her legs, which were slim and tanned, were badly scratched. She must have been running hard through underbrush. Her tennis shoes were also torn.
"Do you have anything with you?" Joe asked. Frank smiled to himself, glad that Joe was there to help remember questions like that.
The girl shook her head. "I left camp about an hour ago. There was a hole in the fence, and I went through it. Someone saw me. I ran along the road. Then I heard a truck following. I went up the hill into the woods. And then I got lost." She sniffed again.
Frank could tell she was about to start crying again. "Let's get you some food," he said. "You'll feel better--"
A sharp crack tore through the air, and Joe instinctively threw himself to the ground. He pulled the girl down too. Frank crouched and scurried behind a tree. There was another crack, and a spray of bark exploded off one of the trees.
Frank caught his brother's eye and pointed: the shot had come from over there. Joe crawled along the ground on his belly, pulling the girl with him, until they were both behind a bush next to a thick tree.
Frank cautiously looked out from his hiding spot. He thought he saw movement in the brush. He pulled back, and waggled a finger at Joe. But before he could move, another rifle shot hit the tree near him. He dropped to his stomach and wormed his way over to Joe.
"They've got us on two sides, at least," he whispered to his brother.
"There's probably more," the girl whimpered. "I saw six of them get out of the truck, and they all had guns!"
* * * * *
Exciting stuff, you think to yourself, though mentally you put slightly sarcastic scare quotes around "exciting."
You look at the clock; you rarely crash before midnight, and it's barely ten o'clock now. Still, maybe you should make an early night of it. | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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