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Forever Lost




  What Is Real?

  “Frank!” I heard my brother call, but I was busy picking my way through the rubble. Alice’s voice seemed to come from different directions, but I had a feeling she was down and to my right.

  “Frank, don’t do this! It’s not safe!” Joe’s voice got closer, but I heard someone grab him from behind.

  “Don’t you go down there too,” I heard Detective Cole’s voice instruct gravely. “It’s not stable, and it’s not safe for anybody. He’s not listening to reason right now.”

  Frank! Help me!

  She was definitely down there. Wasn’t she?

  Frank!

  I closed my eyes. My vision was a little blurry, and I suddenly felt weak, like I could fall asleep right there in the rubble.

  Frank!

  I opened my eyes with a start. What was I doing? Alice needed me!

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  #24 Murder House

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  Super Mystery #3: Club Dread

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  Available from Simon & Schuster

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ALADDIN

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  First Aladdin paperback edition January 2011

  Copyright © 2011 by Simon & Schuster

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  THE HARDY BOYS MYSTERY STORIES is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  HARDY BOYS UNDERCOVER BROTHERS and related logo are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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  Designed by Sammy Yuen Jr.

  The text of this book was set in Aldine 401 BT.

  Manufactured in the United States of America 1210 OFF

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Library of Congress Control Number 2010915025

  ISBN 978-1-4424-0264-5

  ISBN 978-1-4424-0265-2 (eBook)

  1. Aboveground

  2. A Quick Nap

  3. The Lion Sleeps Tonight

  4. Intervention

  5. Happyland

  6. Stanley

  7. On the Run

  8. Memories

  9. Back Under

  10. Map Quest

  11. Motives Unknown

  12. Bear Habitat

  13. Just Keep Him Talking

  14. Going In

  15. Science and Logic

  16. Imperfect

  Aboveground

  “Whoa,” I murmured, staring into the hole before me as the dust cleared and I could slowly make out what remained of the hatch I’d recently escaped, now a huge pit filled with rubble.

  “Whoa is right,” my brother, Joe, agreed, stepping up beside me and giving me a totally out-of-character mother hen expression. “Are you sure you’re okay, Frank?”

  “Okay?” I repeated hollowly. What was okay, these days? My head was pounding from the explosion we’d just witnessed, and just an hour or so before that, I’d escaped from a creepy underground bunker where I’d been held prisoner along with a bunch of kidnapped children and given mysterious psychiatric drugs to keep me quiet. To say that Joe and I had fallen down the Wormhole of Weird on this particular case was understating it a bit.

  About a week before, Joe and I had landed about fifty miles outside Misty Falls, Idaho, where, in the last twelve years, eight children had disappeared while camping at Misty Falls State Park. The local police had done extensive investigations into every one of these disappearances, but found nothing. Eventually, once the remains of one of the poor children was found in an abandoned bear cave, the disappearances were dismissed as natural accidents. Local residents especially were passionate about the idea that nature could be dangerous, and all these poor city-slicker campers had just fallen victim to some very nasty, hungry bears.

  That was all well and good—until one of the missing kids mysteriously reappeared in town. Justin Greer had been only five when he’d disappeared, but now he was back, seventeen years old and slightly wild. He claimed to have no memory of his parents, though he did start having a few flashbacks after spending days with them. And he had no memories of where he had been for the last twelve years. Add this to his slightly animalistic eating habits, and his tendency to wander out of the hospital and skulk in the bushes, and Justin was a puzzle like no other. My brother Joe and I—agents in an elite force of crime-fighting teens called ATAC—had been called in to help the local investigator, Detective Richard Cole, get to the bottom of all this.

  What we’d found, though, had just made the whole situation more baffling. For four nights, Joe and I camped near the sites of the disappearances, terrified by nightly invasions and starting to wonder if something more unearthly than a bear was responsible for these kids’ fates. (Well, Joe was starting to wonder that. I’m really much more logical than he is.) One of our guides, a crusty old park ranger named Farley, turned up murdered in his own cabin just as Joe and I realized that he was Justin’s paternal grandfather. And the next morning, total chaos broke out. An actual bear attacked our campsite, swiping at Joe and forcing Detective Cole to take him to the local ER. And while he was gone, it got even creepier. I fell asleep, only to wake up and find Detective Cole’s partner unconscious outside the tent—right before something hit me over the head and knocked me out too.

  How long had it been since then? I hadn’t known until Joe filled me in that I’d been missing for two days. I’d spent that time in this creepy underground bunker. I was kept in a tiny cell, fed sandwiches through a slot in the door a couple of times. Eventually I made friends with a little girl, Alice, who I’d soon realized was one of the kids who’d disappeared—the media has dubbed them the Misty Falls Lost. And when Alice realized I was willing to help her find her brother, whom she misses terribly, she offered to help me break o
ut of there.

  Which I’d done. I’d successfully crawled out of a hatch leading into the woods, and Joe was right there, having followed a bunch of stone trail markers to the hatch.

  Then it had exploded.

  With Alice, and who knew how many other kids, still inside the underground bunker.

  “Frank?” Joe asked, frowning as he laid a hand on my shoulder. I realized I’d never answered him, lost in my own thoughts.

  “I’m—I—” I was struck by a wave of dizziness and closed my eyes. The drugs—something Alice had called the “forgetting potion”—that had been pumped into my system in the hatch were probably still affecting me. How much of what I was experiencing was real, and how much was chemical?

  “Frank, maybe you should sit down.”

  But that’s when I heard it. For some reason it seemed much louder than Joe’s voice. . . .

  Help me, please! Frank!

  I blinked and searched for the source of the tiny female voice: the rubble that remained of the hatch.

  “Oh my gosh,” I whispered, drawing nearer to the lip of the crater the explosion had created.

  “Frank!” I heard Joe shout behind me.

  “Is he okay?” I heard running footsteps and Detective Cole’s voice as he questioned my brother. But none of that mattered to me right now.

  “Alice?” I called.

  Frank! Please! Help!

  There was no question: The voice was coming from inside the rubble. Alice was probably trapped down there! The rocks, dirt, and hunks of concrete and metal that now filled the crater where the hatch used to lead to an underground chamber were surely dangerous, but I couldn’t let Alice stay trapped down there, alone! What if the rubble shifted and crushed her? What if no one but me ever heard her cries and tried to get her out?

  “Alice, I’m coming!” I yelled, climbing over the edge and into the crater. “Stay where you are! Wait for me!”

  Frank!

  Alice’s voice mingled with the shouts behind me.

  “Frank!”

  Frank!

  “My God, what’s he doing?”

  “. . . looked to me like he heard something.”

  “Doesn’t seem normal, like he’s on something . . .”

  “Frank!” I heard my brother call, but I was busy picking my way through the rubble. Alice’s voice seemed to come from different directions, but I had a feeling she was down and to my right. Gingerly, I moved a big rock and then pushed on a huge chunk of concrete in front of me. If I could move it, I might be able to squeeze down a small opening that led below the rubble. . . .

  “Frank, don’t do this! It’s not safe!” Joe’s voice got closer, but I heard someone grab him from behind.

  “Don’t you go down there too,” I heard Detective Cole’s voice instruct gravely. “It’s not stable, and it’s not safe for anybody. He’s not listening to reason right now.”

  Frank! Please!

  I pushed hard on the slab of concrete, letting out a yell of exertion—the thing was heavy! After what seemed like hours it budged a few inches, just enough for me to squeeze past it and into the little opening that led below.

  Frank! Help me!

  She was definitely down there. Wasn’t she?

  Frank!

  I closed my eyes. My vision was a little blurry, and I suddenly felt weak, like I could fall asleep right there in the rubble.

  Frank!

  I opened my eyes with a start. What was I doing? Alice needed me!

  Carefully I tried to shrink myself small enough to fit into the tiny tunnel through the rubble. Behind me, I could still hear Joe and the policemen yelling for me to stop, it wasn’t safe. And I knew it wasn’t safe—I wasn’t crazy. Any fool could see the rubble wasn’t stable. But an innocent ten-year-old girl who’d already suffered enough heartache needed my help. ATAC agents are trained to risk our own lives to help those in need.

  Frank!

  Breathing slowly, I managed to squeeze myself down far enough to duck into the tunnel. Joe’s shouts got louder, but there was no way I was turning back now. Alice’s voice seemed louder now, closer.

  Come get me! Please!

  I carefully scooted down the tunnel. It got darker the farther I went, the layers of rubble shutting out daylight. After I’d gone about ten feet, a new sound filled my ears. Rumbling, like the sounds you hear right before a killer thunderstorm. I sucked in my breath. Was it about to . . . ?

  But then I heard it. Crash, slam, crash . . . It was the rubble around me! Just then the rock I was standing on shifted, seeming to drop down from under me. I let out a scream as the world around me collapsed. Then something huge and heavy hit my head and the whole world went black.

  A Quick Nap

  I was becoming really, really familiar with Misty Falls Hospital. I sighed, squirming in my not-terribly-comfortable padded vinyl chair as I looked at my brother again, willing him to stir. It was about eight o’clock in the morning, and I’d spent an overnight vigil in Frank’s hospital room. I still had no idea what had prompted my normally sensible bro to climb into a hole filled with unstable pieces of concrete, rock, steel, and dislodged earth. But climb in he had, and the ensuing collapse had left him knocked unconscious and seriously beat up.

  Fortunately, while Frank was covered with bumps, bruises, and scratches, and while it didn’t look like he’d be taking Pilates classes any time soon, it did look like he would be all right. He had a broken arm and a shattered wrist from a huge piece of concrete landing on him, but he had no internal injuries, and the bump to his head somehow hadn’t bumped him hard enough to cause serious damage. Still, Frank was going to be relaxing in this comfy hospital bed for a few more days, which meant that I, once again, was working the Misty Falls Lost case alone.

  Which was fine.

  I mean, once Frank woke up, at least he’d be able to tell me what he’d seen in that creepy underground bunker.

  And at least ATAC gives us good insurance.

  I yawned, stretching my arms above my head and trying to move my spine in a way that would get the nasty kinks out of it. Sleeping on a chair is no fun. Right then, I would have given just about anything even to be back in the rustic tent where Frank and I had spent the first week of our time in Misty Falls. Even with the potential ghost lurking outside, it was still a lot more comfortable than where I sat now.

  I closed my eyes again, wondering if I could get another hour or so of sleep before Frank woke. I must have dozed a bit, because when I opened my eyes again a pretty, dark-haired candy striper was leaning over Frank’s bed. I sat up and blinked. “Chloe!” Frank and I knew this candy striper from our days observing Justin in the hospital; Chloe even seemed to have (hard as it was for me to believe) a little crush on my not-so-smooth-with-the-ladies brother. She’d always struck me as a sweet girl, and very concerned about Justin’s health.

  Chloe jumped a little at the sound of my voice. “Oh—Joe,” she stammered, glancing over at me. Was it just me, or did she not look thrilled to see me? Maybe she just wasn’t a morning person. I certainly knew what that was like. “How long have you been here?”

  “Hours,” I replied, sitting up and stretching. “I’ve been trying to catch some z’s before Frank wakes up. I guess you heard what happened to him?”

  Chloe nodded. She kept glancing at me, but her eyes would wander right back to Frank. It was like he was a magnet, drawing her gaze. She drew a little closer to his bedside, holding something up in her hand. For the first time, I noticed she was carrying a little plastic bag of IV liquid—something purplish.

  “Don’t you usually work the afternoon shift?” I asked, recalling all our past encounters over Justin. “I’m surprised you’re here this early.”

  Chloe nodded quickly at me, then turned back to Frank. “I, um . . . I switched my shift today.” She flashed me a brief, toothy smile. “I have a family thing this afternoon. I just need to change Frank’s IV. . . .”

  As she drew closer to the pole where Fran
k’s current IV bag hung, I noticed something: The purplish liquid she was planning to switch in didn’t match the clear liquid he was hooked up to now.

  “New color, huh?” I asked.

  Chloe stopped short and looked back at me, a little startled. “What?”

  “The IV bag?” I asked, standing up from the chair and stretching some more. “The old stuff is clear, but this is purple. Are you changing his medicine?”

  Chloe glanced from me to Frank, then nodded again, quickly, and moved toward the pole. “It’s a sedative,” she replied, quickly changing out the bags. “Frank needs his sleep.”

  I frowned. Even in my groggy state, that didn’t sound right. “He needs his sleep?” I asked. My brother had just been bonked on the head by a huge rock. And yeah, he was in for a world of pain when he finally woke up. But I needed him to wake up. I needed to ask him a few choice questions. Questions like, What the heck happened down there, Frank? What did you learn about the Misty Falls Lost? How can you help me solve this case so we can go home?

  Chloe just glared back at me blankly. “Of course,” she replied. The new IV bag was in place now, and she turned, looking satisfied at the sight of the purple liquid dripping into a vein on my brother’s hand.

  “According to who?” I asked after a moment. Were candy stripers even allowed to change IVs? I’d never seen her do this before.

  Chloe looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “According to his doctor,” she replied, shaking her head. “If you’ll excuse me . . .”

  And just like that, she took one last glance at my brother and darted out of the room.

  Great, I thought, checking my watch with a sigh. It was just after eight thirty. And judging from the size of that IV bag, my brother would be out for hours now.

  I blinked, glancing around my brother’s cold, sterile hospital room. The sun was brightly peeking through the blinds, signaling the arrival of another new day. Another new day and no closer to any answers, I thought ruefully. At least I had my brother back now—beaten up, but safe and sound in the hospital. And once he woke up, I knew he would give me the scoop about everything he’d learned belowground.

  And maybe we’d be a little bit closer to finding Justin again and solving this case.