Theo scratched his nose—a surefire clue that someone was about to lie—and looked Sam straight in the face. “I don’t know why,” he said. “But I’m sure Ms. Temple won’t stop until she finds out. I trust her; you should too.”
Martina walked over to them from where she had been sitting in the back of an ambulance, and Sam saw her eyes flitting back and forth between him and Theo.
“C’mon, Sam,” she said. “We made it. We’re okay. Maybe it was just an accident—some kind of contaminant got into the water and no one realized it. It’s possible.”
“Sure,” Sam muttered, unconvinced. “Totally possible.” He looked back at the plane, where Evangeline was coming down the steps ahead of the pilots. She squinted along the runway, as if she was looking for someone.
When she reached their side, she spoke softly. “The authorities will be investigating this matter.”
“Oh, good,” said Sam. “At least someone’s taking this seriously.”
Evangeline looked at him as if he were a second grader speaking out of turn. “I want you to let me handle this,” she said. “You’re under the protection of the American Dream Foundation.”
“Huh, some protection,” Sam mumbled before he could help himself.
Evangeline sighed, and something in her face betrayed a hint of fear. “Listen, Mr. Solomon, Miss Wright. We never anticipated this . . . unfortunate accident. But we will put it behind us. I’ll arrange a taxi to take us to the hotel right after I finish giving my statement to the police.”
Sam opened his mouth to argue again, but a sudden wave of weariness made him close it again. What was the point? He accepted a bottle of water from a paramedic.
Nothing about this made sense, and one thing in particular niggled at him. Why hadn’t Evangeline addressed Theo as well? Just “Mr. Solomon” and “Miss Wright.” More fishy behavior. He glanced up at Theo, but all he saw was his own sweaty and confused expression in the mirrored shades.
Soon they were speeding across a barren landscape in a taxi that had probably been white once upon a time but was now a dusty, desert brown. The same color as everything else, as far as the eye could see. Out the window, Sam watched the last of the sunset flaring a sultry, smoky red above the orange mountains on the horizon. Theo had chosen to sit in front, next to the driver, leaving Sam and Martina in the backseat with Evangeline. Martina had her headphones in and her eyes shut. Sam wondered if she was asleep or just avoiding conversation. Anyway, he didn’t really care. Sam didn’t feel much like talking either.
Evangeline had said they were heading to Furnace Creek Ranch, which would be their base for the trip. She’d even given them an itinerary. Sightseeing, mostly, tomorrow by jeep and the following day with a helicopter ride. After the near-death plane trip, Sam could have done without being airborne for a few days. Other than that, though, the planned trip seemed almost . . . normal. There was another little note about looking for “clues leading to our next destination,” so at least that sounded interesting. Sam settled back in his seat, staring at the scenery passing by. Maybe the whole plane fiasco had been an accident, and everything else on the trip would go by without a hitch. He was probably being paranoid about nothing; seeing puzzles to solve where there were none.
“Nice,” Sam whispered to himself once Furnace Creek Ranch came into view. It was a sprawling, fancy-looking place, the palm trees surrounding it making it seem like a lush oasis of green in the vast empty desert. Maybe this vacation isn’t a total bust after all, Sam thought, dreaming of late-night room service.
Once they got inside, cheerful people whisked him off to a room so big he could have gotten lost in it. He’d hardly had a minute to sit down on the bed, making the billowy comforter swoosh up around him, before his cell phone rang.
He recognized the ring tone and put the phone to his ear. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. Where are you?”
“At the hotel. I’ve been here for roughly six seconds. Do you have a spy drone following me, or what?”
“Ha-ha, Sam. So, is it nice?”
Sam glanced around. About fifteen pillows on the bed, widescreen TV, free Wi-Fi, teeny-tiny fridge with chocolate inside, bathtub big enough to do laps in. “Yeah, pretty nice.”
“Good, good. How was the flight?”
“Oh, you know, just a regular flight.” In person she would have seen right through the lie, but from a thousand miles away he managed to get away with it. If he told his mom what had really happened on that plane, she’d have him home so fast the soles of his shoes would be smoking.
After promising to call again soon, to wear sunscreen, and not to keep his wallet in his back pocket—geez, Mom—he said his good-byes. Evangeline had told him there’d be dinner downstairs in a few minutes, but even though Sam was hungry, he didn’t move. Instead he stood at the window, watching stars begin to appear in a sky the color of the quilt on his bed at home, the same sky he’d almost fallen out of not so long ago.
He hadn’t even been on this trip a day, and he’d already had a brush with death. On the other hand, he had also landed a plane, which—though terrifying—was pretty awesome. All in all, it kind of evened out.
What would tomorrow bring? Sam wondered.
Sam was falling, and as he fell, he was staring at a bank of dials and lights and monitors, all flashing dire warnings at him while alarms shrilled their panic in his ears. But he couldn’t understand what the displays were saying, and the ground was rushing up at him, and the alarms kept beeping and beeping and beeping—
With a gasp, Sam wrenched himself awake to find his arms and legs tangled up in the hotel’s bedspread. Only a dream. He flopped back on his pillows in relief. But something was still beeping like crazy. He lifted his head to gaze with bleary eyes at the alarm clock on the bedside table. The display read 8:05. He was late! Again!
Sam rolled out of bed and staggered to the bathroom to throw cold water on his face, shocking the rest of the nightmare out of his brain. Shirt, jeans, hiking boots, baseball hat, backpack . . . and he was ready. He burst out of the room, almost bowling over a maid and her neat stack of towels. In the lobby, he grabbed a gigantic cinnamon roll and a banana from the buffet before skidding to a stop beside Evangeline, Martina, and Theo as they waited just outside the front door.
“Is this going to become a habit, Mr. Solomon?” Evangeline asked coolly.
“Um, no. Sorry.” Sam felt his face getting hot. Martina was looking up something on her phone. Sam got a peek at the screen and saw a heading: Death Valley—Not Just For Death Anymore! Theo was too busy doing his statue impression to take notice of anything.
Sam shuffled along after Evangeline as they approached a group of tourists who were waiting for the same sightseeing tour they were taking—a family with two bored-looking teenagers, a pair of old ladies in red hats, and a man in a loud Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts who was already taking pictures of everything with his smartphone. They all climbed into an open-backed, weather-beaten safari truck that was parked in front of the ranch and settled into the seats along the sides. A minute later, the engine rumbled to life, and they took off in a cloud of dirt.
A man with a sunburned face and an impressively white polo shirt grabbed an intercom and brought it to his lips. “Welcome, travelers, to the amazing Death Valley National Park! My name is Randy, and I’ll be your guide through today’s tour. Our first stop is the beautiful Golden Canyon. This natural wonder . . .”
Sam tuned Randy out. He’d see the canyon for himself in a few minutes; this desert was dry enough without all those boring facts to listen to. But it turned out he didn’t have a choice.
“Did you know that Death Valley is the lowest, hottest, and driest area in the United States?” Martina asked brightly.
“I do now,” Sam muttered under his breath.
“Two hundred and eighty feet below sea level,” Martina continued. “And the second-hottest temperature in the world was recorded here! One hundred and thirty-four degrees.
”
Sam tried to ignore her, and instead he concentrated on wolfing down his cinnamon bun and looking at the world around him. Rippling sand dunes stretched out in all directions, and the sky was such a deep electric blue that it almost felt like they were on a different planet. Sam imagined an alien bristling with tentacles crawling over the ridge of a dune as they drove past. Or maybe Theo’s head would pop open, and the extraterrestrial life-form animating his body would come out, demanding that Sam take him to his leader. It definitely seemed plausible.
“They also have iguanas, rattlesnakes, and kangaroo rats,” Martina was saying, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Sam wasn’t listening. “Did you know that the kangaroo rat lives its whole life without drinking a drop of water? Isn’t that amazing? And did you know . . .”
Sam began to consider stuffing her NERDGIRL baseball cap down her throat the next time she said “did you know.” But then she moved on to something that actually caught his attention. She was talking about the sailing stones.
“Hey! I know about that!” he broke in. “They’re huge boulders, and they move across the ground by themselves. It’s an unsolved mystery.”
“Not anymore.” Martina looked delighted to prove him wrong. “Scientists discovered that ice deposits underneath the rocks coupled with the high winds cause the boulders to slide across the land very slowly. Extraordinary, but not a mystery.”
“Fine,” Sam grumbled. “Go ahead and ruin that too. Ruiner.” He nudged Theo on his other side. “That Marty—thinks she’s always Wright.”
Theo stared at Sam through his sunglasses, stone-faced.
“Get it? Wright? Because her last name is . . .”
Sam could have sworn he saw the edge of Theo’s mouth twitch—but maybe he was just imagining things.
At least Martina seemed to get the hint. She went back to looking at her phone and was silent the rest of the trip, until they stopped at the Golden Canyon.
As he jumped off the truck, it was Sam’s turn to speak. But all he could say was “wow.”
The walls of the Golden Canyon rose above his head in rippling layers. The burning yellow sun made the stone glow as if it had a heart of fire. Sam took a few steps down the path between the curving walls of rock, feeling as if he were walking through a frozen river. A golden, frozen river.
Man, what a great place this would be to skateboard! he thought.
Sam followed the tour group a little ways up the path, barely paying attention as Randy droned on about this landmark and that point of interest. After a while, the canyon walls widened. Smaller canyons branched off on all sides, like a natural labyrinth that spread out for miles. “Feel free to explore on your own,” Randy told them. “Just make sure to be back here in forty-five minutes.”
“I think I’ll take a short rest,” Evangeline said, sitting down on a rock. “I’m still a little weak from yesterday’s . . . ah, adventure. But you all go on without me. Just be careful—and stay together.”
Sam’s heart sunk. He had hoped to escape Martina’s lecturing for a while and go off on his own.
Besides, he wanted to keep an eye out for clues. The itinerary had reminded Sam that in each destination, they’d find clues about where they were going next. It’s like one of those reality TV shows, Sam thought, except I guess the American Dream Foundation is too cheap to bring a camera crew along. Wouldn’t it be great to be the first one on the tour to find a clue? Maybe he’d even be the one to figure out where they were going next. That would show old Always-Wright.
He’d just have to keep an eye out. And if he found anything, he’d keep his mouth shut.
“The walls are mudstone, with some conglomerates,” Martina chattered as she followed Sam and Theo along a path that led up a smaller, winding canyon.
Sam tried to keep an eye out for clues, but he didn’t really know what he was looking for—something out of the ordinary? This whole desert felt out of the ordinary to him. And Martina’s constant chatter was a distraction. Sam could feel his blood pressure start to rise as she went on and on.
“They used to mine for borax around here. They called it ‘white gold.’ And—”
Sam’s patience finally snapped. “And enough already!” he shouted, way louder than he actually meant to.
Martina jumped in surprise. Theo raised his sunglasses and regarded Sam with thoughtful brown eyes. Sam felt his face heat up, and not just from the sun.
“I’ll just go on alone, then,” Martina mumbled, dropping her gaze to the ground. She stalked past them both and disappeared around a curve in the canyon up ahead.
Theo was still looking at Sam. “She was just trying to be friendly,” he said.
Sam harrumphed. “Once again, the Great Theo honors us with his wisdom.” He mock-bowed to Theo.
“I only talk when I have something important to say,” Theo said, and one corner of his mouth quirked in that same minute smile that Sam had spied before. “Unlike some people.”
Sam found himself relaxing a little. “You know what, Theo? You’re a weird kid, and I’m a little afraid of you. But you’re okay by me.” He gave Theo a serious look. “So c’mon, man. Come clean with me. How did you end up on this trip? You don’t really seem like the puzzling type.”
Theo shrugged and looked away as they started to walk again. “American history’s kind of a family thing, I guess you could say.”
“Your parents are really into history, huh? Are they teachers or something?”
Theo looked at the ground. “A little like that.”
It was weird—this trip had Martina, who wouldn’t shut up, Theo, who barely had a word to say, and right there in the middle, Sam.
He was starting to feel a little bad for yelling at Martina. Not that she wasn’t the Queen of Annoying, but she had kind of saved his life yesterday. He’d saved hers too, so it wasn’t like he owed her anything exactly, but—
Suddenly, a scream echoed through the canyon.
Sam turned to Theo. “That sounded like—”
Theo broke into a run.
“Marty,” Sam finished, and took off to follow.
The two pounded up the narrow path along the canyon. Then Theo stopped short, and Sam nearly plowed into him.
“Don’t move,” said a quiet, shaky voice.
Sam peered around Theo’s massive shoulders to see Martina backed up against a stone wall. At her feet was something that looked like an old coil of dusty rope.
A rattlesnake.
Its head was swaying back and forth, eyes locked on Martina, its forked tongue flicking out to taste the fear in the air.
“I never saw it coming,” Martina whispered, wide-eyed. “I was just walking along and it came out of that crack and lunged at me.”
The snake hissed and began undulating closer to Martina’s leg.
“If it bites me,” Martina whispered in panic, “first I’ll swell up, then it will start to hurt, then—”
“Stop talking. Don’t move,” Theo muttered.
Sam bent down and picked up a fist-sized rock from the rubble at his feet. “Get ready,” he warned Martina.
“You can’t make it angry!” said Theo, putting his hand over the rock.
“Trust me,” Sam said.
Theo looked Sam in the eye for a moment before reluctantly withdrawing his hand. Sam pulled his arm back, took aim, and threw the rock at the canyon wall a few yards away from Martina.
Crack!
The snake whipped its head toward the impact. Martina recognized an opportunity when she saw one, and scrambled up the rock face to the top of a huge boulder, well out of the snake’s reach.
Theo had the idea now. He tossed another rock, and Sam added a few more, keeping the snake distracted. It hissed in disapproval and uncoiled itself, writhing across the rocky ground before disappearing into a dark crack in the wall.
Sam dropped the last rock in his hand and exhaled in relief. “You okay, Marty?”
She nodded briskly, then slid down the
boulder, her hands still shaking. “I bet it has a den under there. We’d better move away from here—we don’t want it to come out again.” Martina brushed herself off, and with the dust she seemed to brush away her fear as well. “Actually, even if it had bitten me, did you know that only a small percentage of rattlesnake bites prove fatal?” she told them.
“Right.” Sam snorted. “That’s why you practically levitated up that boulder.”
“Quick thinking, Sam,” Theo said calmly. “With the rock.”
Theo’s voice was casual, but Martina blushed. “Um, yeah. It was,” she said, looking everywhere except at Sam. “Thanks.”
Sam shrugged.
“I usually know what to look out for in the desert, you know, from reading about it,” Martina said. “But I got distracted—by that.” She pointed up at a patch of stone a few feet above them on the canyon wall. “It looks like some kind of rock carving, but I didn’t think there were any petroglyphs around here. I was trying to get a closer look when the snake attacked me.”
Sam squinted up at the wall and saw a long, wavy line etched into the face of the cliff. It seemed to be broken into eight pieces. The piece closest to the top of the canyon had a thinner line sticking out of it, like the tongue of a snake. In fact, the whole thing looked a lot like a snake, chopped up into sections. Strange thing to find in the middle of the desert.
A strange thing! Sam thought, brightening. Maybe it’s a clue? Rats. And Marty had been the one to find it!
“Join or die,” Martina murmured, staring up at the image in the stone.
Sam glanced at her. “What?”
“It was the title of a famous cartoon from the time of the American Revolution.”
“They had cartoons back then?”
Martina rolled her eyes. Sam should have known better than to ask her. “Not like your comic books, no,” she said. “A political cartoon in a newspaper. It showed a snake chopped up into eight pieces, representing the American colonies. And the caption was ‘Join or die.’ It meant that no state could survive without the others—just like a snake couldn’t go on living if it were cut up into pieces. It had to be whole.”
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