No Way Out (7 page)

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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

BOOK: No Way Out
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“Take your cell phone,” Joe told Kay. “Call right away if you find anything.”

Kay and Penny left for the maze, and the Hardys and Ray went right to work. Frank asked Ray to
check with the local landscapers, gardeners, and taxi services.

“We don't actually have any real cab companies,” Ray said. “But there is one guy in the village who will drive people places for a fee.”

“Close enough,” Joe said. “See if your dad contacted him last night.”

“Or if he saw your dad at all,” Frank added.

“Do you want me to call the police, too?” Ray asked.

“That's probably a good idea,” Frank said. “You might get more out of them than an outsider would.”

While Ray made the calls from the library, Joe and Frank set out on their search of the house. The first place they went was Alan's secret study. The hidden door in the back of the closet was locked, but with a few twists of Frank's lockpick, they were in. They jogged up the stairs into Alan's retreat.

There were no clues as to his whereabouts, but because of Alan's disappearance, the brothers had no qualms about giving the place a thorough once-over. Frank was especially interested in the room because he had been stopped by Alan before actually getting inside. Joe turned on the light and small fan hanging over the long table.

“Any thoughts on what's going on with Alan?” Joe asked his brother.

“No, not really. But it doesn't look good.”

“Yeah, that's what I'm thinking too.”

“In the last two days he's been threatened anonymously with a flaming arrow, his maze has been vandalized, and he's been nearly attacked by Bruce MacLaren,” Frank summed up.

“And don't forget the phone call I almost overheard,” Joe said, opening another drawer. “Empty. The phone's gone too.”

“We need to find him, Joe. Soon.”

“He had these strange papers out when I was here before,” Joe said, walking over to the drawing table that stretched along one wall. “They were like diagrams or schematics.”

“Maybe his maze plans?” Frank guessed.

“That's what I thought,” Joe said. “But he never confirmed that. In fact”—Joe opened one of the wide drawers in the table—“he dumped them into this drawer before I got a really good look at them. Said they weren't for anyone else's eyes, or something like that.”

Joe pulled the drawer all the way out, but it was empty. Then he went to the trunk where Alan had said the golden gauntlet was being kept. It was unlocked. Joe lifted the lid, and the trunk was still empty.

“Looks like this room has been cleaned out,” Joe murmured.

“Not entirely,” Frank said. He had opened the
second wide drawer in the drawing table. I found this stuck in the back corner of this drawer.” He showed Joe a crumpled fragment of paper, which he smoothed into a wrinkled rectangle on the tabletop. The page was divided into curved bands. Each band contained short black lines in various groupings. Some lines were used as the four sides of a square, some formed an L-shape, and some just stood vertically by themselves.

“Could be a maze design,” Joe said. “If we had the whole piece of paper, these arcs could be parts of circles within circles, like in a maze. And the lines in the circles could indicate where the paths would lead to dead ends, or where they would lead to the center of the maze.”

Frank nodded. He smoothed and folded the piece of paper and put it in his pocket. The Hardys finished their search of the secret study, but found nothing to indicate where Alan might be.

They continued checking the rest of the house, including doors and windows, but found no clues. Finally, they rejoined Ray in the library.

“I've got nothing,” Ray said, slumping back in the large leather wing chair at the library desk. “Nobody's seen or talked to Dad since the end of the jousting matches last night.”

Frank pulled out the piece of paper. “Do you know what this is?” he asked.

“That looks like some of the designs I've seen
Dad working on,” Ray answered. “He doodles that stuff all the time—I figure it's for a maze.”

“That's what we thought too,” Joe said, as Frank put the paper back into his pocket. “Have you seen the golden gauntlet since your mom brought it back to the house Friday night?”

“No, why?” Ray answered.

“Your dad was going to show it to me in a trunk in his secret study, but it wasn't there. He acted kind of funny about it, but said he'd told your mom to put it somewhere else. Check with her on that when they call in, okay?”

“They called a few minutes ago,” Ray answered. “Kay said the security shed at the maze looked okay, and the alarm system was activated. I'll ask about the gauntlet the next time they call.”

“Okay, let's go,” Frank said. “It's time to check the rest of the estate.”

“What are we looking for?” Ray said. “We've got one hundred eighty acres. All the vehicles are parked. You don't think he's out somewhere on foot, do you?”

“Probably not,” Frank conceded. “But I'm not ready to rule it out.” He exchanged glances with Joe and knew that his brother was having the same thoughts. Although it was unlikely Alan was out there walking around, he could still be out there without wheels—and he might need help.

Ray led them to the vehicle shed. He and Frank
took one ATV, and Joe drove the other. Frank reported their plan to Penny and Kay, who were still making a painstaking tour of the enormous maze. Penny told him she'd put the gauntlet in the secret study trunk, and hadn't seen it since.

The Hardys and Ray first checked all the outbuildings, but they yielded nothing—nor did exploration of the stables, the stadium, or the medieval bazaar. The latter was already full of customers even though the vendors were just beginning to set up.

The grounds of EagleSpy included hills, valleys, meadows, gardens, the shore along Golden Arm Lake, a waterfall and brook, and a small forest. As the boys raced across the property, Ray reached under the seat and pulled out a hunter's horn. He periodically blew the Horton family distress call, but there was no answering call.

“Oh man, I've got to stop and walk for a few minutes,” Ray finally declared. He seemed really stressed. Frank knew exactly how it felt to be searching for a missing father. He and Joe had been there, and it wasn't pleasant.

Frank gestured to Joe, and they both stopped the ATVs near a small hill. Ray jumped out of the passenger side and just ran off without a word. Then he broke into a sprint and raced to a distant tree. He turned around and raced back, then started a second loop. Joe crouched a few times, did some calf stretches, and began running the same laps.

Frank knew how the other boys felt. It was great to straighten his knees and get out of the cramped ATV. He took a few deep breaths and was surprised that he tasted salt in the air.
Golden Arm Lake must be nearby
, he reasoned, and started a steady trot in the direction his nose led him. He loped along about fifty yards to the hill, then turned and began circling around its base.

The air was even more pungent on the other side of the hill, so he decided to keep going. After a few more yards, he noticed a strange sensation in his feet. At first he thought his ankles were giving way, but then he realized it was the ground: It seemed spongy and uneven, although it looked perfectly level.

Frank slowed his trot to a walk. “The ground must be wet here,” he mumbled to no one. “Maybe it's sandy or something. Like I'm close to the lakeshore or a bea … eee … no … nooooo!”

In an instant, the ground beneath him gave way completely, and he plunged straight down into the earth.

8 Hack, You're It

“Frank!” Joe called, as he and Ray walked up the small hill. “Frank! Where are you?”

It seemed like a crazy question, because the land was clear and open on the other side of the hill. There appeared to be no place for Frank to hide.

“The mine!” Ray yelled. “Frank! Frank!” He tried to blow the hunter's horn, but nothing came out but sputters and spits.

“What mine?” Joe called over to Ray. “What are you talking about?”

“Don't move,” Ray warned. “Just stand still for a minute.” Ray took a few tentative half steps, tapping his toe on the ground. “Frank? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I'm over here.” Frank's voice sounded far
away and hollow. His words were repeated in a low echo.

“Hey man, you okay?” Joe called.

“I think so,” Franks voice returned from a spot about twenty yards away. Joe could barely make out a large patch of fresh brown dirt in the middle of the bright green grass. “I fell into some kind of tunnel. I can see a little with the light from the opening I fell through. Just a minute, let me get my flashlight on.”

There was silence for a minute or two, then Frank's voice sounded again in that hollow echo. “I'm about ten feet down, I guess,” he said. “There's some wood framing along the walls. I think I'm in some kind of mine.”

“It's a marble mine,” Ray yelled to him. “It crisscrosses under the whole estate. Can you see very far into it?”

“I can,” Frank said. “I've got my pocket flash on and I can see ahead about thirty yards. I can tell from your voices that I'm facing in your direction. There's nothing but wall behind me and on both sides.”

“I'm afraid for us to come over to you,” Ray said. He and Joe stood about twenty yards away. “If the ground gives under us, it could cave in on you.”

“Absolutely,” Frank said. “Just stay where you are. I'm going to walk along the tunnel. It looks like there's some kind of pale light farther along. Maybe
it widens out there, or there's another sinkhole in the ground.”

“If you're facing us, you're looking toward the lake. The hill slopes down in that direction,” Ray said. “There might be an opening to the mine tunnel there.”

“Okay,” Frank called out. “Here I go. If this doesn't work, I'll come back to this spot, and we'll try something else.”

“Oh man, I don't like this,” Joe muttered. “Be careful,” he called out louder. “If it looks even a little weird, come back.”

“Don't worry, I will,” Frank answered. “Okay, here I go,” he repeated. Then there was silence.

Joe squinted at the dark area where the ground had swallowed Frank. “I can't just stand here,” he told Ray. “I have to do something.”

“Okay,” Ray said. “See that bunch of birch trees over there?”

Joe followed Ray's pointing finger and saw a couple dozen thin, straight trees with white and pale gray bark striped with occasional bands of black. The trees shot up from a thick mass of green weeds and undergrowth, but he caught an occasional glimpse of blue glinting through the tangled leaves and twigs.

“The lakeshore is on the other side of those birches,” Ray said. “That's the direction Frank is walking—that's where he said the pale light was
coming from. Go see if you can find an entrance to the mine tunnel around there. I'll stay here in case Frank has to turn back.”

Slowly, cautiously, Joe stepped down the hill and walked toward the lake.

Ten feet belowground, Frank's flashlight shot a wide, steady beam. Each time the light hit a dark patch of dirt, something slithered or scampered back into the shadows. There was a peculiar smell, almost metallic, and a gritty gray dust bounced in the beam of light.

Frank's eyes adjusted to the harsh contrast of light and dark as he walked. He tuned his ears to every sound, ignoring the skitters and rustles and listening instead for the more perilous cracking and creaking of the walls that would signal a cave-in.
I can handle the things that live down here
, he told himself,
but I'm not ready to become a permanent resident myself.

Every once in a while he swung the beam of light to the ground and squinted ahead. He still saw that pale glow, and each time, it was a little nearer. Finally he grew close enough to see that the glow was formed by individual patches of light piercing through tiny openings.

At last, he came to the source of the glow. A few rotted boards marked what had apparently once been an opening to the outside. The powdery wood
had been plastered with a tangle of weeds and vines, which allowed hundreds of pinpoints of light to poke through.

Frank pocketed his flashlight and began tearing away at the branches and vines.

“Frank!” Joe called from the other side. “Hey!”

The two of them tore away at the barrier until Frank could step through. The sunlight blinded him for a minute as it ricocheted off the rocking waves of the lake.

The brothers clamped arms, and both took a deep breath.

“You made it!” Ray called, running over to join them.

Frank brushed a few slugs and beetles out of his hair with an involuntary shudder. “Okay, it's time to go back to work,” he said. “Do you suppose your father could have fallen into a tunnel the way I did?” he asked, turning to Ray.

“I don't think so,” Ray said. “I sure hope not. You're the first person who's fallen in that I know of since the mine's been closed. There was a terrible cave-in eighty years ago, which prompted it to be shut down for good.”

“Is it just abandoned?” Frank asked. “Who owns it?”

“We do, now,” Ray said. “But Dad has no intention of ever opening it up again. The locals talk about a curse connected with it. Supposedly there are still
miners' bodies down there, and anyone who disturbs the mine takes on the curse. Dad sealed up all the entrances that were marked on the mine map over five years ago when we first moved here. I don't remember seeing this one on the map, though.”

“Well, I'm sure glad it was here,” Joe said.

“Dad's going to be pretty upset when he finds out about this,” Ray told Frank. “You could have really been hurt.”

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