Forever Lost

by Franklin W. Dixon

  She glared at me. “It’s not like that, Frank. We care about the children here. We give them the childhood they deserve.”

  “And what happens when they’re no longer children anymore?” I demanded. “When they get to be Justin’s age, wanting to know where they came from and where their family went? What does Dr. Carrini do with them then?”

  Chloe looked at me blankly, and the uncertainty in her face chilled me more than any answer could have.

  “You don’t know?” I asked incredulously.

  “It’s—it’s a plan in transition,” she sputtered, her mouth hardening into a frown. “We were looking at many different scenarios. We thought of educating the children to work with new recruits here. . . .”

  “Keeping them prisoners here forever?” I shot back. “Never letting them see the sun?”

  Chloe scowled. “It’s not like that, Frank!” she cried. “You talk like being down here is so hard for them, so painful. But it’s wonderful! It’s—it’s the childhood I never had!”

  I looked at her curiously. Seeing my expression change, she paused.

  “I was a foster kid,” she admitted quietly after a moment. “Shuttled from family to family, no one to really pay attention to me. I wish someone like Dr. Carrini had found me and taken me away when I was little. I might have been able to play, to grow and enjoy life, instead of . . .” She trailed off, and then turned to face me again, her eyes burning with new intensity. “It’s a good thing, what Dr. Carrini is doing. He really is a visionary!”

  I sighed. “But Chloe,” I said, trying to soften my tone, “don’t you see? It’s gone too far, this whole thing. Kids dying . . . parents like Edie losing their kids . . . is that part of the perfect childhood you would want for them?”

  Chloe’s expression changed, and she seemed to be considering my words.

  BANG!!

  We both started at the sound of a gunshot in the hall. A flash of fear passed over Chloe’s face, and she turned back to me with renewed suspicion.

  “Lie back down on your gurney,” she barked. “I know you’re just trying to find my weak spot so you can overpower me . . . but you can’t overpower us! Do you see? You and whoever’s trying to break in up there—we’ll beat you!” She reached into her lab coat pockets, pulling out two items. “I have a taser and powerful drugs that would drop you in an instant!”

  A taser? I hadn’t seen that coming. And drugs . . . I wasn’t sure she’d have the guts to give me anything that would permanently hurt me, but still, I held up my hands, giving in. “Okay. Okay. I know when I’m beat.” I lay back down and stared at the ceiling for a moment, then chanced a quick look at Justin and started. I could swear I saw a finger move—a tiny motion, just enough to signal that he was aware of what was happening. Was it possible? Could Justin have been conscious and listening this whole time?

  Whether or not he was, he might just be my only hope of getting out of here in one piece.

  I took a deep breath. “If I were going to overpower you, Chloe,” I said slowly, “I would do it . . . now!”

  From that point on, everything happened very quickly. Sure enough, Justin jumped up off his gurney, fully conscious, and together we leaped up to surround Chloe, easily forcing her to drop the taser and taking her syringes.

  “The purple,” Justin instructed me. “Give her the purple, it will make her sleep.”

  I looked down at the syringes I’d taken from Chloe: Sure enough, there was one full of the “purple” Alice and Justin had told me about. I held it up.

  “No, Frank,” Chloe begged. We had her backed into a corner now, and she looked suddenly very small and helpless. All of her earlier coldness and bravado were gone. “Please! You and I were connecting . . . I could be on your side. . . .”

  I looked at her for a moment, her pretty face, her sad, lonely eyes. Then I injected her with the purple syringe. “I’m sorry, Chloe.”

  Within seconds, she fell to the ground, unconscious.

  I looked at Justin. “What now?”

  “We need to get the others!” he told me. “They’ll help. At least a few of them will.”

  Shoving the taser and remaining syringes into Justin’s pockets, we ran out of the OR and down the hallway to the playroom Dr. Carrini had taken me to earlier. Sure enough, all the same kids as before were gathered there, looking scared and unsure. They were completely unsupervised, which made me think that Baby Doc, Scar, and Dr. Carrini were all involved in whatever battle was going on upstairs.

  “Listen,” Justin announced, wasting no time. “Someone’s broken in here, I don’t know who. They’re probably here to save him”—he pointed to me—“but they’ll save us, too, if we help them. We just need to tell them the truth about this place, and we could all be free! Free to go back to our families and live normal lives.”

  Kerry, a pretty teen with red hair, started to cry. “Normal?” she asked. “I haven’t felt normal in . . . so long.”

  “Then think how good it will feel,” Justin said soothingly. “Our parents—they remember us. I can tell you for sure. I saw mine on the outside. They remember us, and they still love us. We have time to be families again.”

  I stepped forward. “Earlier, when you guys told me how happy you were here,” I reminded them, “you were lying, weren’t you? Because when I said that about missing your families . . .”

  “Of course we were,” said Luke, an older boy with sandy hair. “We can’t tell the truth in front of the Big Boss, or he’ll give us the purple.”

  “And we don’t want the big sleep,” added a familiar voice, and Alice stepped to the front of the group, still clad in her princess gown. “I’m glad you came back, Frank.”

  The kids looked at one another. “I want to be normal,” one of the younger boys whispered.

  “Me too,” agreed Kerry, wiping away her tears. “We’ll help you guys. We’ll do everything we can.”

  With Justin’s help, we got everybody armed with makeshift weapons: plastic baseball bats, a toy hammer, pots from the kitchen. Justin handed me the taser. The kids, Justin, and I moved out into the hall, where we were surprised to see Baby Doc and Scar approaching. They looked at our makeshift army in alarm, and Justin and I turned to each other.

  “Attack!” I cried, and all the kids moved forward as one. The docs ran, but they were easily overpowered. For several minutes it was total chaos, kids beating on the doctors with plastic baseball bats and pans, while Justin struggled to inject Scar and Baby Doc with purple syringes and I stood by with the taser. It was hard to get to them in the melee, but finally he jabbed them both in the arm, and they went limp instantly.

  Then, suddenly, a voice cut through all the chaos.

  “You are all in very big trouble with Daddy.”

  I looked up from the fracas. It was Dr. Carrini at the end of the hall, and he had a gun pointed at all of us. They call him Daddy? Creepy . . .

  “Stop!” I cried, stepping in front of the kids. “You would never shoot, would you? You would never hurt the precious children you worked so hard to get.”

  Dr. Carrini stepped closer, and I shivered when I saw his eyes. They were cold, matter-of-fact . . . completely devoid of emotion. “It’s a calculated risk, Frank,” he explained, strolling closer. “If they persist in this attack and I have to fire, I may hurt one or two of the children, but Happyland will survive, and that’s much more important.”

  Chills ran down my spine as I realized just how insane this guy was. He didn’t even care about the kids themselves—just his crazy idea of preserving “childhood” (or his warped version of it) forever.

  I looked at Justin, seeing the same realization in his eyes. We had to give up—we couldn’t risk the kids’ safety, even if it meant possibly defeating Dr. Carrini and ending Happyland forever.

  I took a deep breath and turned back to the doctor—just as a figure appeared behind him.

  It was Joe. He was sneaking up behind Dr. Carrini. And he had a gun. (Where’d he ge
t that?)

  “But . . .,” I began, just to get something out of my mouth, to keep the doctor talking so he wouldn’t turn around and see my brother. “But what good would Happyland be with no children in it?”

  Dr. Carrini chuckled. “Oh, Frank. You’re so naive.” He shrugged. “I can get children any time I want. Of course, it’s easier during the summer camping season.”

  So creepy. “Like you got me?” I asked. “Hitting me over the head in the wee hours of the morning, dragging me back here?”

  Dr. Carrini smirked. “You were one of the harder ones to acquire, Frank, what with your brother always around.” He paused. “Of course, like I told you then, you’re a little old for my collection.”

  Joe held up the gun, and I sucked in my breath.

  BANG!

  The bullet was only a warning shot, but it grazed Carrini’s ear and startled him enough to drop his gun to the floor with a clatter. Justin and I rushed forward at the same time as Joe, and together the three of us tackled Carrini, Justin jabbing him violently with a purple syringe.

  The kids cheered loudly. We’d done it!

  Joe looked at me. “Frank, bro! I was beginning to think I’d never see you again. Are you okay?”

  I nodded a little shakily. “Uh . . . yeah. It’s been a weird few days.”

  Joe chuckled. “To say the least,” he agreed.

  I looked down at his hand. “Where’d you get the gun?”

  “Long story.”

  Suddenly, over all the cheering and craziness, a voice called down the hatch. “Hello? Joe? Are you there?”

  Joe grinned at me. “That’ll be the Misty Falls PD,” he explained. “Down here!” he shouted back toward the entrance.

  Within minutes, the crazy scene had gotten even crazier. Six uniformed police officers rushed in, looking around like they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

  “Holy . . .,” one of the officers muttered when he turned the corner and saw Joe and me standing over an unconscious Dr. Carrini, the group of kids behind us. “What is this place?”

  “It’s kind of a long story,” I replied. “How long do you have?”

  In broad strokes, I filled them—and my brother—in on everything I’d learned about the underground bunker: who built it, what Dr. Carrini was doing with it, how the kids were treated. I could tell the officers were having trouble believing it was all true, but the kids backed up my story. The officers cuffed Dr. Carrini, Baby Doc, Scar, and Chloe, in case the “purple” wore off and they woke up. They also rounded up several other guards who’d been working for Dr. Carrini in the bunker. When the coast was clear, they called up the hatch: “All right! You two can come on down!”

  We waited as footsteps approached, and then around the corner stepped . . . Justin’s parents.

  They both started sobbing with relief at the sight of Justin. “I’m sorry,” whispered Jacob, throwing his arms around his son. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you boys.”

  As the Greers reunited with lots of tears and hugging, the officers explained that while they had initially doubted my story—and Joe’s, since he believed me—they had rethought their earlier position, took Joe’s call about the hatch location seriously, and told Edie and Jacob they were fairly sure where Justin was being held.

  The officer who explained this all to me looked sheepish. “I guess somethings that seem too crazy to be true . . . aren’t.”

  I looked around the underground tunnels, the OR, the crazy playroom, and the kids. “Sometimes,” I told him, “I think the craziest things are the truest.”

  Imperfect

  “I’m going to need you to pass me another square of chocolate, bro,” I said, carefully inserting my toasted marshmallow between two graham crackers for the ultimate in s’more goodness.

  Frank tossed me the bag. “I’d ask how you can eat like that after all we’ve been through,” he said with a smirk, “but then I remember who I’m talking to.”

  I grinned. Between us, our campfire crackled comfortingly. We were back in Misty Falls State Park, camping for one more night before we caught a plane back to Bayport. It was a perfect night, clear and cool. And now that we had gotten to the bottom of our case, we felt we could really enjoy the park’s beauty without being insanely freaked out by every bump in the night.

  Maybe I should speak for myself there.

  “It feels good, doesn’t it?” asked Frank with a smile. “Knowing all those kids are back with their families tonight. So many happy reunions.”

  I nodded. “It feels great,” I agreed. “Although I still think about poor little Sarah. Or Farley and Bailey. So many people died unnecessarily, just to feed Carrini’s crazy vision of what childhood should be.”

  Frank nodded, wrinkling his nose. “All play and no reality. No parents. No rules. I’d prefer our childhood, wouldn’t you?” he asked.

  “Big-time,” I agreed, popping my s’more in my mouth.

  Frank grinned again. “Well, at least Smith survived.”

  I snorted. Michael Smith was currently resting at Misty Falls Hospital, recovering from an operation to remove the bullet that had missed his heart and lodged in his shoulder. According to Detective Cole, Smith was in good spirits and trying to take credit for solving the whole case. He’d also asked for some of Cole’s officers to go looking for his bike, which, sadly, was thus far still missing somewhere in the wilds of the state park.

  Detective Cole was alive and well, after having a monster nap due to a big dose of “purple.” While we’d been searching Farley’s cabin earlier, Baby Doc and Scar had snuck in, jabbed Detective Cole with a syringe, and dragged him out. They’d managed to jab him before he even realized he was being watched, which is why he hadn’t made a sound.

  It turned out that Baby Doc and Scar were both relatives of Dr. Carrini’s, and victims of the “imperfect” childhoods Carrini was so obsessed with. He’d taken them in, given them minor medical training, and put them to work at Happyland to give them some measure of the childhood he’d thought they deserved. Unfortunately, they were not supercompetent—which explained why they’d only picked up Detective Cole, and not me. Lucky for all of us they were lousy kidnappers, otherwise Michael Smith, who’d turned out to be reckless as well as conceited, might have been our only hope.

  “I hope Detective Cole gets some rest tonight,” I said. “After all he went through today.”

  Frank nodded. “Although I’m glad he’s getting his due from the town.”

  This evening the mayor of Misty Falls had announced that Detective Cole would be getting a medal from the town in a special ceremony tomorrow, to thank him for all his hard work on the Misty Falls Lost case, and for never giving up. The detective had seemed pleased, but more than anything, I think he was glad the kids had been found and this case was finally behind him. “I can sleep tonight,” he’d told us when he dropped us off at the campsite, “and not feel guilty. I really can’t thank you boys enough for all your help.”

  Justin Greer, and all the Misty Falls Lost, had been taken to the hospital for observation, but they all seemed to be in good health. It would be a long adjustment back to “normal” life—with a lot of counseling for the kids and their families—but they were on their way. All the parents had been called, and Justin was eager to spend time with his real parents again. He said he was recovering some new memories of them, and they all seemed so happy to be reunited. Justin would live with Edie and Hank but would spend summers and holidays with Jacob and Donna.

  “I’m glad Jacob apologized to Detective Cole,” Frank added. “He certainly deserved it.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “I have to admit, this case was full of surprises, but for me one of the biggest ones was that Jacob wasn’t involved in Happyland.”

  Frank nodded. “I was a little surprised too. He was unpredictable. But I guess he was just a dad struggling with his emotions and his responsibility to his son. This can’t have been easy for him.”

  “No,” I
agreed, “and I don’t think it will be easy for any of the parents. Dr. Carrini took a lot away from them.”

  Frank looked like he was going to respond, but just then we heard a crash over to our left.

  I looked at my brother with wide eyes. “Frank,” I snapped. “Don’t try to be funny.”

  “Funny?” asked my bro, looking nervously over to the left. “Who’s trying to be funny? I didn’t make that noise.”

  “There’s nothing out here,” I said, trying to convince myself more than him. “We solved the case. It’s all over.”

  Frank opened his mouth to respond, but then there was another crash—closer this time. He stood quickly, and I followed suit.

  “Come on,” he whispered, and together we backed into the woods and fell silent.

  The noises came closer, and I felt like my heart would pound out of my chest. But then something emerged from the trees at the far side of our campground—a female black bear! I looked at Frank, whose eyes were just as huge as mine, but he gestured to me to be silent. I turned back to the campsite, where the female was now joined by two young cubs. They sniffed around our campsite, overturning bags and pawing at our tent, ripping open the bag of chocolate and devouring what was left of that, the graham crackers, and the marsh-mallows. After a few more minutes of searching, the mother called to the two cubs, and they sauntered back into the woods the way they’d come. Frank and I stood silent and reverent, waiting a few minutes before turning to each other.

  “I guess Farley was right about one thing,” Frank said quietly. “Nature really is beautiful—but it deserves respect.”

  “Absolutely,” I said, shaking my head in amazement. “And as we’ve learned, the wilderness can be dangerous—in more ways than one.”