10-Hostages of Hate by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780006945185
Google: 1pgUAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 000694518X
Publisher: Armada
Published: 1995-03-06T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

THE TUNNEL ROOF didn't fall on Joe. Instead, darkness hit him — a terrible darkness, so deep he could see nothing. One moment he was groping along after Frank, and then came that complete blackness.

He rubbed his eyes, coughing on invisible dust. So this is what it's like to be blind, he thought.

"Frank? Pia?" he called. Maybe Pia had dropped the candle. She looked like the flaky type to him.

No answer.

"Guys?" Stretching his arms forward, he tried to feel his way. Inches from his face, he hit loose earth. A cave-in.

Joe fumbled around, making sure the whole tunnel had been filled. It had. It looked as if he'd have to turn back.

But as he groped around along the tunnel floor, he found something that froze him. A shoe. Frank's shoe. And as he felt farther, he realized a foot was still in it. Frank was trapped under the dirt!

Desperate, Joe tapped against Frank's ankle. He got an answering twitch. Frank was alive!

Joe began clawing at the cave-in. Frank might be alive, but there was no way he could breathe under all that dirt.

Hurling the loose earth behind him, Joe worked to free his brother's legs. He uncovered a piece of wooden bracing and used that as a shovel. Now he was up to Frank's waist. Joe dug frantically. At least the roof still held. No more dirt came cascading down.

As he felt himself being freed, Frank began to wriggle around. Joe got the message. He got a hold on his brother and pulled.

Frank came free unexpectedly. The two of them tumbled back in the darkness, both coughing in the dust.

"Are you okay?" Joe finally managed to say.

"Yeah." Frank's voice was hoarse but strong. "I was lucky. When the dirt came down, I wound up with my head between my arms. That left a little air pocket around my face. Otherwise — "

Otherwise, you'd be breathing dirt, Joe thought. "Well, you're out now. The question is, what do we do?"

"Well, I don't see us going forward," Frank said.

"I don't see anything!" Joe gave a short, bitter laugh.

"The problem is, if we go back, we'll be walking into the arms of the cops."

"And Dad, and O'Neill. They'll have us on a plane so fast — "

"I guess that means we go forward," Frank said.

Joe fumbled around. "Well, there's a piece of wood around here somewhere."

They set to work digging through the obstruction before them.

"Hold it!" Frank said. "I think I heard something."

Joe paused, and they both heard a scraping noise coming from the far side of the cave-in.

"That must be Pia working toward us," Frank said. "Come on!"

They dug quickly, fearful that another truck would come rumbling over them and undo all their work. The noise had sounded pretty close. Maybe the cave-in wasn't that big.

Then Joe's piece of wood rammed into something coming from the other side — a piece of wood in Pia's hands. "Franz? Josef?" Her voice was shrill with terror. "My candle is out! I can't see!"

For a second, Frank almost forgot his false identity.

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