Disaster for Hire (11 page)

"I really won't have to. There's nothing to link me with this sawmill," said Garner. "The authorities, if they ever manage to identify your charred remains, will no doubt assume that you and your father were in cahoots with Winter. There was some sort of accident, and you all perished. I don't see any — "

Leon's automatic suddenly swung up, sending a bullet in Joe's direction.

It missed his head by less than six inches.

"I aimed to miss," said Leon with a chuckle. "But I've been watching you inch toward that mallet sitting on the counter there, mate."

Garner pushed up his cuff to check his watch.

"Very good, Leon," he said. "Now, if you'll tie up our three guests, we'll be on our way."

"You heard him, Washburn. Fetch those ropes from over in the corner."

"I thought maybe you could get them, me with my bad leg and all."

"Fetch."

"Okay, okay." Washburn went grumbling over to the corner. Despite his injury, he was able to tie Frank, Joe, and Dr. Winter in minutes.

When the burly man was finished, Garner went around to test the knots by tugging at them. "Very good job," he said. "We won't bother with gags. You may want to talk among yourselves during your final moments."

"Please, Ray," the doctor pleaded. "You don't have to do this to me. Take me along, please. I swear to you I won't betray — "

"This is just one more reason I'm dumping you," Garner said, moving toward the door. "No guts. Look at these boys. You don't hear them whining and begging." Shaking his head, he left.

Washburn, limping, went out next.

"Night, one and all." Chuckling, Leon took his leave.

Five minutes passed. Then they heard the sound of flames crackling in the windy night.

"We're going to die," cried Dr. Winter, struggling to get free of his bonds. "We're going to die!"

A DOOR BLOCKED the top of the stairs. Joe grabbed the metal knob. It wouldn't turn. He backed off, then booted the lock—once, twice, a third time.

Frank charged up to join him. Together they tried their shoulders against the door.

Rattling and shivering, it swung inward. Joe went diving across the threshold—nearly landing on top of his father.

Fenton Hardy was tied to a wooden chair in the bare upper storeroom. He and Jenny Bookman had moved back to back so he could work on Jenny's ropes. "I nearly have the young lady untied," he told his sons.

"Let's finish the job." Frank started on the girl's bonds. "They really turned the heat up downstairs."

Joe got to work on his father's ropes, giving him a quick squeeze on the shoulder. "Good to see you again, Dad."

"It's good to see you, son." Fenton Hardy lowered his voice. "Now, what are our chances of getting out of here alive?"

"About fifty-fifty," said Joe. "Half the mill has gone up." He turned to Jenny, who was rubbing her legs. "Can you walk?" he asked.

"In a minute." She got to her feet with his help.

"Let's hope we have that long."

"There's a metal staircase right over here." Their father made his way, a little unsteadily, to a door and got it open. "They brought me up this way. Yes, we can still use it."

Joe joined him at the open doorway. This side of the old mill hadn't been touched yet by the blaze. "Should I go back down to make sure Winter got out?"

"He was scooting for the exit when I was heading up here, Joe. Don't worry about him."

Fenton Hardy said, "Get Jenny out first."

Joe escorted her to the door. "Go ahead, Jenny." She didn't hesitate, but stepped out onto the iron steps and began descending.

Joe went with her. Then came their father, and finally Frank.

"Why's Dr. Winter still here?" asked Fenton Hardy as they hurried down, feet clattering on the metal steps. "Falling out among thieves?"

"More like the boss intended to fire him," Joe said.

"Lousy pun, Joe." Frank looked at his father. "You knew Ray Garner was behind this?"

"I suspected it," answered Fenton Hardy. "I know it now, having heard him downstairs since I came here."

Jenny and Frank reached the ground, and started running clear of the burning sawmill.

Joe and his father jumped the last few steps and ran, too.

The sounds of the engulfing fire converged into one enormous roar. A great pillar of flame shot straight up into the night. Then the wooden skeleton of the mill seemed to be etched against the blaze for just an instant before the whole structure collapsed in on itself. Sparks and burning brands flew up into the darkness.

By then, the Hardys and Jenny had circled around to what had been the front of the building.

Joe glanced around, frowning. "I don't see Winter."

"Maybe he took off," said Frank. "I wouldn't blame him if he keeps running until — No, wait." He let go of Jenny's arm and headed toward a dark sprawl at the edge of the forest. It was the doctor, lying huddled on the ground.

Joe asked, "Is he dead?"

"Nope. He just seems to have passed out."

"I guess we've got the job of hauling him. We can't leave him here. It looks like the whole forest is going to burn."

Already, trees to their right were aflame.

Frank glanced around. "We'd better get back to the car before this place really goes up."

Taking a deep breath, Joe bent and lifted the wounded man. He arranged him over his shoulder like a sack of flour. "Let's move on out."

They'd traveled through the forest for about ten minutes when Jenny asked, "Could we stop for a minute?" She pressed her fingers against her left side. "I'm getting a real stitch."

"Sure, rest." Frank halted. "How are you doing, Joe?"

Dr. Winter remained draped over Joe's shoulder, still out cold. "I'm fine, but I think the doc's put on weight since we left the mill."

Fenton Hardy was examining the unconscious man. "We ought to get him to a hospital as soon as possible."

Frank was peering into the darkness, frowning. "That's funny," he said, nodding toward the trees up ahead of them.

Fenton Hardy said, "I hear it, too — animals scurrying and birds flying through the branches. But they're coming this way."

"That's what I mean." Frank's frown deepened. "They're supposed to be getting away from the blaze, not moving toward it."

"You think," asked Joe, "that there's another fire ahead?"

"Maybe the one behind us jumped," Frank said grimly. "With a wind like tonight, sparks could skip a whole stretch of woods and take hold a mile or two away."

Jenny said, "Then we could be heading straight for another blaze."

"Only one way to find out," said Frank, pushing ahead. "We have to go on this way or we won't reach the car."

The smoke came first, initially just in wisps and tatters. Then came thin swirls, and finally thick sooty clouds.

"The fire has jumped ahead," said Fenton Hardy. "No doubt of that now."

"That leaves us trapped between two blazes." Joe glanced nervously around. There was no way they could fight a fire.

Frank pointed to their right. "There doesn't seem to be as much smoke that way," he said. "Maybe, with luck, we can cut through the woods and circle the fire."

Fenton Hardy nodded. "Let's try."

Joe took hold of Jenny's arm. "Can you keep going?"

"My side's a little better." She smiled. "Why? Are you offering to carry me too?" But she coughed as the smoke whirled around her.

Frank led the way off the course they'd been following. "Watch it. This will be rough going."

They struggled through a thickly tangled stretch of forest. There was no smoke, and they began to hope that they'd gotten free of the raging blaze.

But the forest fire jumped again.

Above them, glowing sparks started to dance in the darkness.

The branches high up went red, smoking, and then exploding into bright, crackling flames. A canopy of fire blossomed over them, greedily working down the tree trunks.

"Over this way," Frank yelled. "It hasn't spread here yet." He started pushing through the brush, thorns and branches tearing at him.

"Frank, please."

He turned.

Jenny had fallen. She was on her knees, trying to push herself upright.

Frank ran back to her, taking her arm as she stumbled again.

Joe, even though burdened with Dr. Winter, tore through a thicket to take Jenny's other arm, almost scooping her up.

Brands of fire came plummeting through the night, glaring and crackling. Then a shower of sparks exploded, hitting Jenny's back and starting to smolder.

Joe swatted the tiny flames to put them out.

They kept stumbling on. Frank lost track of time and direction. Smoke rasped at his lungs until he thought his chest was on fire.

Heat and flames seemed to be everywhere. Everything was blazing.

Frank didn't give up. He kept pushing on, now carrying the girl.

Then he noticed that it was quiet again. He could breathe. The trees stood still and calm. All he could see up above was the night sky.

"We made it," said Joe. "You led us back to the car."

Frank looked around, now noticing the car parked up ahead. "Yeah, I did," he realized.

He was still laughing as they got in the car and drove off.

They still weren't safe. Even as they drove, they could see the orange glow of flames among the trees. But now they could outrun the flames, until they reached Crosscut.

The town had been saved so far, but the fire was raging in the forest to the north. The buildings of the small town were streaked with smoke, and the streets were crammed with firefighting trucks and equipment. Two ambulances stood before the old town hall.

Firefighters in full gear were using the town as a base for attacking the fire. Three helicopters hovered over the forest, dropping chemicals on the blaze and trying to contain it.

A state police trooper flagged down the car with his flashlight as it came rolling by the remains of the burned-out Wheelan house. "Pull over," ordered the tall, broad-shouldered man. "Nobody can use the roads around here until we get this fire under control."