“It looks better down,” Henry said. “But you might get all sweaty.”
“Good point.” Aunt Kathy studied her reflection in the mirror. “I’ll wear it down but bring the elastic with me,” she decided. “So I can put it up later, if we’re hiking and it gets too hot.”
“Aunt Kathy, Emmett’s here.” Simon’s voice drifted down the hallway.
“Oh, my goodness, he’s right on time,” she exclaimed. “Well, I guess this will have to do. Can’t keep them waiting on the first date! You have to create the illusion that you’re as punctual as they are.” She winked at Henry, snatched her purse from the bed, and hurried out of the bedroom.
Henry rolled his eyes and followed her. Emmett was standing awkwardly in the kitchen. Simon and Jack, after announcing his arrival, must have disappeared. “Hey,” he said, grinning. “Ready to go? Hi, Henry.”
“All set,” Aunt Kathy answered merrily. “You’re so nice to do this! I can’t wait to see the desert and those rocky places you were talking about.”
“Sure. It’ll be fun.” Emmett glanced at her shoes. “Uh … do you have hiking boots?”
Aunt Kathy shook her head. “Just my running shoes. But they’ll be okay, won’t they? They have a grippy bottom.” She touched the edge of the kitchen counter for balance and lifted one foot to display the patterned rubber sole.
“Well, we won’t go anywhere too rough,” Emmett said. “They’ll be fine for walking around the desert.”
“And we’ll be back by five o’clock?” Aunt Kathy asked. “I promised my sister. She was fine with Simon being in charge for the afternoon, but I told her I’d be home before dinner.”
“Of course,” Emmett said. “That’s no problem.”
“Simon! Jack! Come say good-bye,” Aunt Kathy called.
Simon and Jack came charging in from the garage, with Delilah close on her heels.
“Oh, Delilah! How are you, honey?” Aunt Kathy hesitated. “Emmett and I are just leaving—is it okay with your mom if you’re here without a grown-up? Should you call and ask?”
“It’s fine,” Delilah said easily. “She knows.”
“Oh … okay, well…” Aunt Kathy turned to the boys. “You three—four!—be good while I’m gone. You have my cell number.” Aunt Kathy indicated the notepad on the kitchen counter. “I’ll call to check in.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Simon said smoothly. “We’ll be fine. We might go over to Delilah’s.”
“Ready?” Emmett held the door for her.
“Yes! I think that’s everything,” Aunt Kathy said. “Okay, guys, I’ll see you around four or five.”
With a wide smile and a breezy wave, she followed Emmett out the front door, closing it with finality behind them.
Simon, Henry, Jack, and Delilah stood in the middle of the abruptly silent house, looking at each other.
“Okay,” Simon said. “Let’s go. We don’t have much time.”
They hurried to the garage and dug the supplies out of the box, quickly filling the two backpacks. Henry remembered the tube of sun lotion in the kitchen drawer and they covered themselves in it, barely pausing to rub it in.
“Are you sure that’s everything?” Delilah asked as she zipped the backpacks. “Map, directions, shovel, flashlights, rope, water, snacks,” she rattled off under her breath.
“Candy,” Jack added.
“It’s everything,” Simon said. “Come on.”
Just as Simon took his own backpack and Henry pulled Delilah’s pink one over his shoulders, they heard a jangle of keys and the creak of the front door swinging open. They all froze. Henry’s heart leapt in his chest. Now what?
“Kids?” Aunt Kathy called from the foyer.
“What’s she doing back here?” Simon hissed. In one seamless motion, he snatched the pink backpack from Henry and slid his arm out of his own, shoving them both under the kitchen table, seconds before Aunt Kathy bustled into the kitchen. They stood still as statues, even Jack. Henry tried desperately to look blasé.
“Hey,” Simon said. “What’s the matter?”
Aunt Kathy scanned the kitchen. “Forgot my sunglasses,” she said. “Here they are!” She grabbed them from the counter, then paused, surveying the circle of alert faces. “Look at all of you, right where I left you. I hope you’re not going to spend the day like this! Why don’t you go outside?”
“We will,” Simon assured her. “That’s what we were just about to do.”
“Good! Don’t forget to rub in that sun lotion!” Sliding the sunglasses on top of her head, she dashed out the front door as quickly as she’d come.
“Phew.” Simon exhaled. “That was close.”
“No kidding! I thought she snuck back to check on us,” Henry exclaimed.
“She’s too busy thinking about Emmett,” Delilah said. “She wouldn’t even have noticed the backpacks.”
“Maybe not,” Simon said, “but we couldn’t take any chances. Okay, let’s go!”
They all ran onto the back deck, Delilah thumping behind with her cast. Josie, who was lying on the top step in a patch of sun, leapt to her feet in annoyance at the commotion. She darted over to the swing set and hid under the slide. There, in its shadows, she watched them cross the yard, the tip of her tail twitching.
“Should we put her in the house so she doesn’t follow us?” Henry wondered.
“Nah,” Simon said. “She always does what she wants anyway.”
They passed through the sparse scrim of trees at the back of the yard and started into the sandy foothills. The giant saguaro cactuses sprung up all around, prickly arms raised—for all the world like guardsmen lifting their hands to warn: “Stop! Go back!” Go back while you still can, Henry thought grimly.
Simon paused and turned around, surveying the perimeter of the neighborhood, the crude line where the scrubby yards ended in desert. “Make sure we’re not being followed,” he said to Henry, his voice low. “We have to keep checking on that.”
Henry glanced nervously over his shoulder. “Okay,” he mumbled. Privately, he was wondering what they would possibly do if they found out they were being followed. Especially if they were being followed by those members of the historical society—somebody with a gun, like Officer Myers. He shivered, remembering the loud crack of the gunshot in the canyon, shattering the silence. Was this how Uncle Hank had felt, when he fled the irate, gun-wielding frontiersmen he had beaten at poker, and sought refuge in the mountain’s rocky nooks and crannies?
What does it matter? Henry thought. They were on their way now, stumbling through the low bushes and across the dry ground, passing the remnants of the sticks Simon had planted weeks ago to mark their way. There was danger ahead and behind them. The only true choice was the choice for adventure. Their path led directly toward the dark, looming shape of Superstition Mountain … home of the Thunder God.
CHAPTER 22
THE SOUNDS OF SILENCE
THE CLIMB UP the mountain took less time than before, even with Delilah’s slower pace. Henry wasn’t sure why … was it because the landscape was more familiar this time? The steepness of the path, the pockets of gray-green shade trees, the craggy reddish-brown walls of rock that rose all around them—all of these were recognizable from their earlier treks up the mountain, and yet there was nothing calming about the familiarity. If anything, Henry felt a thin blade of anticipation slicing through him. The cloudless blue sky stretched innocently overhead, but the strange sense of menace prevailed. He remembered what Emmett had said about the Thunder God. He wondered if that was why it always felt like something was watching them. Despite their noisy progress (Jack in the lead, crashing through brush and scattering stones; Delilah far behind, clomping and thudding up the trail), the mountain seemed eerily quiet. As if it were paying attention.
“How are you doing?” Henry asked Delilah, stopping to rest against a large boulder.
“Okay.” She was breathing heavily, and her face was damp with sweat. The sun was beat
ing down, pulsing against their backs. The air was thick with heat. Henry scanned the trail down the mountainside. At first, he and Simon had been checking regularly to make sure nobody was following them. But once the trail became steeper and crowded with rocks, it had taken all of Henry’s concentration to keep climbing.
“Does your leg hurt?” he asked Delilah.
“No.” She shook her head quickly. Her cast was so covered with brown dust that it was impossible to read the colorful signatures. Henry wondered what her mother would think.
He glanced up the trail to where Simon and Jack were forging ahead, their bright T-shirts bobbing through the wilderness. “Should we slow down?” he asked.
“No!” Delilah pushed determinedly past him.
“Wait,” Henry said. “Don’t you want some water? It’s okay, we can take a break.”
She hesitated, panting, and wiped her sleeve across her forehead. She looked so hot and tired that for a minute, Henry was worried she might start to cry. But then he remembered that she hadn’t even cried in the canyon when she broke her leg.
He unzipped the backpack and took out a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap for her.
“What’s going on?” Simon yelled. “Why’d you stop?”
“I’m thirsty,” Henry yelled back. He waved the water bottle. “Want some?”
Simon considered. “Okay. But make it a short break. We don’t have much time.” As he and Jack headed back down the trail, Henry whispered to Delilah, “Don’t worry about Simon. He won’t really leave you behind. He just said that to scare you.”
Delilah took a long gulp of water and handed the bottle back to him. “I know,” she said. “It’s like when my mom gets mad ’cuz I’m not ready and says she’s going to leave without me.” She wiped her face again on her shirt, then smiled at Henry.
Simon and Jack thundered down the path toward them, kicking up clouds of dust. A lizard darted out of the shrubbery. At the sight of them, it panicked and disappeared again.
Taking the water, Simon dumped a little over the top of his head, letting it run down his cheeks. “Man, it’s hot,” he said.
“Can I have something to eat?” Jack asked.
Simon shook his head. “You have to wait. We don’t have time now.”
Jack frowned. “You are not the boss of me.”
Henry intervened. “We can have a snack when we reach the canyon, Jack. It’ll be our reward for getting there.”
Jack seemed to accept this logic. “Okay.”
And so they climbed on. Henry listened for the stillness in the air, the strange, breathing silence. He imagined the Thunder God guarding the mountain’s secrets. How had Uncle Hank survived so many trips up the mountain? Was it because he was an explorer, a bona fide U.S. Army scout? He had been looking for the gold too, hadn’t he? Henry thought of his big blue book of Greek myths, the stories of people making offerings to angry gods, to appease them … was that what the Thunder God wanted? A sacrifice? Sometimes what the gods wanted was a human sacrifice. He remembered Sara Delgado, the daughter of the caretaker at the cemetery, who’d spent days wandering on Superstition Mountain and came back wild-eyed, talking nonsense. Had the Thunder God taken her spirit as an offering?
“Does this seem like the right way?” Delilah asked, looking around.
Simon nodded with conviction. “You haven’t been up here as many times as we have. See that stick? That’s from our first trip up, when we were chasing Josie.”
“Yeah,” Jack bragged. “Before you’d ever even heard of the mountain!” He skipped and scrambled ahead, charging over the rocks in the path.
“I may not have been up here as many times as you have, but I’ve stayed up here longer,” Delilah pointed out. “Hours and hours. Right, Henry? By ourselves.”
“Right,” Henry said. By ourselves except for whoever was shooting at us, he thought. But she was smiling at him conspiratorially, so he couldn’t help but agree.
“Do you think it really was those people from the historical society who shot at us?” Delilah asked. “Mrs. Thomas, Officer Myers, Sara Delgado’s father? I mean, if they were trying to kill us, that would make them murderers. Would they do that just to keep us from reaching the gold?”
“I don’t know,” Henry said grimly, looking behind him.
They followed a curve in the path, and suddenly Weaver’s Needle appeared before them, its sharp pinnacle rising boldly from the maze of canyons and bluffs. It pierced the blue sky.
“We’re getting close now,” Simon urged. “Let’s pick up the pace.” He started to walk faster, then glanced back at Delilah. Though he said nothing, Henry noticed that Simon deliberately slowed down. Delilah took a deep breath and gamely stomped after him.
“Hurry!” Jack shouted. “I’m hungry!”
“You take the backpack for a while,” Simon told him, sliding it off his shoulders and handing it to Jack.
“But—” Jack started to complain. At Simon’s look, he changed his mind and snatched it, barreling ahead, his sneakers churning up the dry ground. They were walking several paces behind him when Simon stopped suddenly.
“What’s the matter?” Henry asked.
Then he heard it—a dry, raspy, shaking noise, like nuts or seeds rattling in a jar.
What was that?
Simon was standing as still as a statue in the middle of the path. He turned toward Henry very slowly and shook his head imperceptibly. His face was frozen in fear.
There on the side of the path, half hidden by a ledge of rock, was a rattlesnake.
CHAPTER 23
DON’T MOVE
THE SNAKE’S PATTERNED SKIN blended perfectly with the sandy ground. Its triangular head was raised and drawn back over the dense coil of its body, thin tongue flicking.
Henry stopped in his tracks and motioned to Delilah, but she’d already come to an abrupt halt, staring at the snake.
Simon whispered, “What should I do?”
Very quietly, Delilah answered, “Don’t move.”
Henry nodded. The snake was less than two feet from Simon’s legs. Simon wouldn’t be able to leap or run to safety before it struck, and its body was as tensed as a spring. It would easily cross the distance between them.
The rattlesnake shook its tail a second time; the same terrifying dry rattle. Henry could see the glint of its small, bright eyes.
They all stood just as they were for what seemed like endless minutes.
Henry’s mind was racing. He thought of Uncle Hank, trekking up and down Superstition Mountain dozens of times. He must have run into more than a few rattlesnakes. What would he do?
And what if Simon got bitten? They wouldn’t be able to get him down the mountain in time to save him. Henry had read in Jack’s book that it didn’t work to suck out the poison, like people did in old movies. You shouldn’t even move somebody after a snakebite. The important thing was to keep the person quiet so the blood didn’t circulate any faster than necessary, to prevent the venom from spreading through his body.
Then they heard Jack’s sneakers pounding back down the trail toward them.
“Where are you guys?” he yelled.
Henry’s heart seized. If Jack stormed into this scene, the snake would surely strike. He forced himself to speak slowly and clearly.
“Stop, Jack. Don’t come any closer.”
Amazingly, Jack listened. He skidded to a halt several yards from Simon and stared at all of them in bewilderment. Henry realized how strange they must look to him: all of them as still as statues in a garden.
“Snake,” Delilah said softly.
“Snake,” Jack echoed, staring.
The snake remained poised, a question mark in the air.
“Stay still,” Delilah whispered.
Henry thought of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone and the scene where Harry first realizes he can talk to snakes. He stared at the rattlesnake, thinking hard, chanting over and over in his mind, “Don’t bite Simon. Don’t bite Simon.
”
“Hold on,” Jack whispered to Simon.
“What are you doing?” Henry asked, alarmed.
Henry had never seen Jack move so slowly and carefully in his life. It was like the time-lapse photography in one of those nature films. He took Simon’s backpack from his shoulder and unzipped it, pulling their mother’s green net shopping bag from inside.
“I can throw the net on it,” he said.
“No,” Simon said, “it’ll strike—”
But before they could stop him, Jack tossed the net through the air.
Henry’s eyes widened in horror.
“Jack, stop—”
But to his amazement, the green net landed squarely on top of the snake. Immediately, it started writhing and squirming, but it was caught.
“Quick,” Delilah said. “Move out of the way, Simon.”
Holding their breath and giving the tangled snake wide berth, they ran past it up the trail.
A minute later, they were out of danger. Simon didn’t say anything, but Henry could see that his legs were trembling. He walked a few more yards up the path before collapsing on a rock.
Delilah let out a long breath of relief.
Henry’s head was pounding from concentrating so hard. He vaguely remembered some old saying about rattlesnakes … how did it go again? The first person wakes him, the second one makes him mad, and the third one gets bitten.
“Wow!” Jack crowed. “A real live rattlesnake! Aren’t you glad I brought my net?”
Henry thought again how Jack’s impulsiveness was sometimes such a virtue. Instead of endlessly agonizing over what action to take, he just DID something … and there were times when doing something was more important than doing the right thing.
Simon shook his head. “That was too dangerous! What if you’d missed? The snake would have bitten me.”
“I didn’t miss,” Jack said. “I saved you! Between my rope in the ghost town and my net up here, I’ve saved you TWICE. And we got to see a rattlesnake!”