Marc Brandel - An Ear for Danger

The shower of burning hail thinned in a gust of wind. Jupe choked on a blast of sulfur, then held his blanket headdress in front of his mouth and nose. He had never trusted the outdoors. And now he knew he’d been right not to. How could they ever get out of here alive?

Bob looked back. Those rivers of red-hot lava were oozing closer and closer. Birds and small animals fled before the molten rock. Bushes burst into flame without even being touched. Bob heard a strange, crackling sound like shattering glass as the rivers approached. This is it, he thought.

“At least we’re going out in style,” he said to Pete. “Right,” Pete answered. “Not everyone gets bleeped by a volcano.”

The two of them stared back at the mountain. The heat from the onrushing lava stung their eyes, but they forced themselves to keep looking.

The sound of shattering glass grew louder. Bob felt a sudden surge of hope. A black crust was forming over those deadly rivers. They were no longer pouring down the slope. They slowly staggered forward, then paused. They lurched on another few yards and finally halted.

Then the shower of hot cinders and beads came to a stop too, falling short of the fleeing horses and burros.

They were safely out of range of the exploding volcano at last!

Half a mile farther on they reached the valley. Ascención led them quickly up the foothills of the next mountain range. There they halted.

They were all coughing from the poisonous fumes they had ridden through. They raised their heads and took deep gulps of fresh air. Then they turned and looked back at the volcano.

Ascención saw him first. He raised his arm and pointed. A distant figure was leaping desperately from rock to rock. It stumbled and scrambled upright again, racing away from Villa’s cave.

On that side of the mountain the oncoming lava had only just reached the top of the cliff face. It seemed to hang there for an instant. Then it cascaded down — a river of death.

By some trick of sound they heard it quite clearly, echoing off the roaring mountain — Dusty’s terrified scream as he disappeared under the molten stream of lava.

All four of the young guys closed their eyes. Dustin Rice had been a ruthless crook. And maybe a killer. But they had known him, traveled with him, eaten his food. And none of them had ever seen a man killed before. It shook them deeply. They were still shivering as they opened their eyes.

Ascención crossed himself and murmured a prayer in Spanish.

“I warned you,” he said at last, looking at Jupe. “I warned you there was danger in the mountains.”

They rode on, keeping to the crest of the foothills. Mercedes drew level with Ascención.

“I’m sorry, old friend,” she said. “If Tom and Brit had gotten that silver, you could have bought your ranch back.”

“Who knows?” Ascención shrugged. “Perhaps my ranch will return to me anyway.”

He smiled in his patient Mexican way. “When my mother told me about Villa’s cave,” he went on, “she also told me no one would ever find those pesos. There were too many of Villa’s dead soldiers guarding them.” He paused. “And now they’ll guard them forever.”

Riding on, out of danger now, they circled for miles around the volcano. They were heading for the well-protected village beyond the foothills on the mountain’s other side.

They didn’t talk much. Even Jupe’s mind was at rest for a change. The last pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place.

Mercedes had first learned about Villa’s treasure from Ascención. His grandfather had been a soldier in Pancho Villa’s army in 1916. Mercedes had promised her old friend she would share half the silver pesos with him if her husband and son found them.

The secret had been carefully kept from Dusty until Brit showed up at the ranch with the little blind burro. Then the rancher had overheard him tell Ascención that he and his father had discovered Villa’s cave.

And Dusty had cooked up his scheme to use Blondie to find the treasure himself.

Jupe was still shocked by the rancher’s violent death. But it was Dusty’s own greed that had killed him. If he hadn’t made that last desperate effort to get his hands on the pesos, he would still be alive.

They stopped at a creek to water the animals and let them graze for ten minutes. A few miles farther on Jupe heard a strange sound — the distant braying of countless burros. Blondie brayed in response and trotted eagerly forward. The sound grew louder as she emerged from the woods.

There, stretching across the hills, were miles of pasture land. And cantering, grazing, and mingling on those hills were more than a hundred wild burros.

Blondie came to a stop. Her long ears were standing up straight, twitching with excitement. She gave a high, loud bray. Jupe slid down from her back. He slipped off her bridle and patted her neck.

Blondie looked at him for a moment with her big soft eyes. She rubbed her nose against him as though thanking him for bringing her home. Then she trotted over to Brit, sitting on horseback, and nudged his foot. He bent down and patted her head.

And then she galloped happily away to rejoin her own wild kind.

Jupe climbed up behind Mercedes. The group pushed on. If they hurried, they would reach the village before dark. From there Brit could phone his father in Chihuahua. He could tell him that he and his mother were safe and that they and Ascención would wait for him in the village.

The next day the Three Investigators would take a series of buses back to Rocky Beach.

“I’ll see you in L.A.,” Bob, who was now riding with Brit on Dusty’s horse, promised his new friend “We’ll hit some rock concerts, hang out with the guys in the groups.”

“Super,” Brit said. “And I know a couple of girls in L.A. Maybe we can double-date.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Bob had a feeling he was going to be busy with his own girlfriends when he got back.

Pete, who was riding with Ascención, was thinking of Kelly. He had told her he would be away at least two weeks. Would her heart be fonder after only ten days? At least she’d have had less time to forget him. And she had given him a T-shirt with her name on it.

Hey, Kelly, he thought. Wait till you hear about how I escaped from a volcano .

Jupe was thinking about beans and rice. He never wanted to see another bean or another grain of rice as long as he lived. He knew he’d lost a good ten pounds, but his taste buds were bored to death. He couldn’t wait to taste his first tomato, lettuce, and pickle salad again.

But first he had to treat his friends and himself to a big juicy pizza. They all deserved it.

Pete glanced at Bob as he drew up beside him. The words on Bob’s T-shirt couldn’t be truer.

The Survivors.

After all they had been through in these mountains the Three Investigators had certainly proved to be that.

Survivors.