Clive Cussler (4 page)

Lacey's heartbeat became normal again as her fear ebbed, and she began to enjoy the ride. "Where are we going?" she shouted over the rattle of the exhaust.

"We're going to fly cross-country to New York," Casey yelled back.

"Isn't that an awfully long way?"

"Yes, but we should always look over the next horizon to see what's beyond."

"How do we know how to get there?" she inquired in growing disbelief.

Casey took a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. "Here's a map. While I fly, you navigate."

"What will Mother and Father say when we don't show up for breakfast?"

Casey smiled. "I left a note on my pillow telling them we would be gone for a while on a little camping trip. They won't mind. We've done it enough times."

"But we never went farther than a mile," Lacey protested. "I don't think of going to New York as a little camping trip."

"Vin Fiz is fast," he replied. "We'll be home before you know it."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small red leather book with a pencil. "Lucky I brought my diary so I can record events," she said, getting in the mood of the adventure.

Casey banked the airplane and set a course toward the northeast. The fields of artichokes spread out below them like a vast carpet. Then came the farms of the San Joaquin Valley, and before they knew it, they were flying over the Sierra Nevada Mountains into Yosemite National Park. Lacey and Casey stared in awe at the spectacular scenery, the high, sheer rock cliffs of Half Dome and El Capitan that rose above a flat valley filled with colorful wildflowers, all in vivid bloom. They flew past Yosemite and Bridalveil falls, whose streams of water fell hundreds of feet to the valley floor in a white spray accompanied by colorful rainbows.

Floopy barked at a bear that looked up at them and a herd of mule deer that ran, frightened by the strange bird with its loud engine exhaust that echoed back and forth across the valley between the rock walls. A golden eagle flew alongside them for a few miles, gracefully gliding above Vin Fiz before diving down into the valley.

Then they were over the giant sequoia trees that towered three hundred feet from the ground. The largest of all living things, they had endured for thousands of years.

After leaving the mountains, Casey swooped down into the Mojave Desert and on into Nevada. The flowering shrubs, oak woodlands, pine and cedar trees were left behind as the land turned brown and green plants faded away. All they could see were miles and miles of vast dry flatlands, broken only by occasional rocky hills that rose above a few clumps of sagebrush. There was little between them and the horizon but a barren wilderness.

"I'm hungry," cried Lacey.

"Already? It's not even noon yet."

"We didn't have any breakfast."

"Look for a nearby town on your map so we can land and find us a place to eat."

She unfolded the map and found a little town that sat alone in the middle of the desert. "Turn to the right. There is a town very close."

Casey pointed ahead. "I see it—there, at the foot of that big hill."

While he tenderly jockeyed with the control levers, Vin Fiz acted as if she had a mind of her own and began gliding gradually downward onto the main street of the town. It was little more than a wide dirt road; there was no pavement to be seen. The wheels touched gently onto the ground. The airplane rolled less than fifty feet down the middle of the street before stopping in front of a big two-story wooden building with an overhead sign that read GOLD CITY HOTEL. As they lifted their goggles and gazed around the town, they found it very strange that no one appeared to gawk at the sight of an airplane sitting on the main street. There was an unexplainable silence about the place. Even Floopy seemed subdued and did not bark.

"Where are all the people?" wondered Lacey.

"It looks deserted," said Casey.

"I find it awfully spooky."

"I know," said Casey, acting suddenly enlightened. "We must have landed smack-dab in the middle of an old ghost town."

And yet it did not look like an old, dilapidated or run-down ghost town. The boardwalks in front of the buildings were clean, and there was no litter in the street. True, the schoolhouse and the church looked badly in need of repair, as did the city hall and town jail, but the houses appeared neat and freshly painted.

Lacey unclasped her seat belt, jumped from the airplane and walked over to a window of a merchandise store and peered in. "The shelves and counters are stocked with goods," she reported. Then she cautiously stepped to the front door and took one step, no more, inside. New kitchen utensils were displayed, all clean and shiny. Clothes hung on racks, and cans of grocery items were stacked neatly on the shelves. She saw no sign of the dust or cobwebs that one might think would be found in an abandoned ghost town.

It was all very eerie.

Casey pointed to a sign advertising a cafe next to the hotel. "Maybe we can find something to eat over there."

"If not, the store looks like it has canned food," she said.

Floopy was not behaving like he was happy and about to be fed. He sniffed the air with his enormous nose and raised his huge floppy ears to listen. He did not act like a cheery dog. He definitely sensed something that mere humans could not. He sensed trouble.

Becoming a bit braver, Lacey and Casey entered the cafe and looked around. The chairs were all neatly parked under the tables. Silverware was laid out next to dishes on blue tablecloths, just like on their dining table at home. The napkin holders and salt and pepper shakers were all in order, as if expecting diners to arrive at any minute. Timidly, they sat down at a table and picked up menus.

"I'd love to eat a hamburger," said Casey.

Lacey began to read her menu. "I'm so hungry, I could eat everything in the kitchen."

At the mention of the word kitchen, they turned and stared at the swinging doors that led into the kitchen from the dining room. Kitchens always had swinging doors so the waiters and waitresses could walk in and out carrying dishes without reaching for a door handle.

"Hello!" Casey called out. "Anyone out there?"

No answer came.

Warily, they rose from the table, walked over and peeked under the swinging doors. The cooking area of the cafe was deserted. A big black iron stove stood cold and empty of pots and pans. The metal counters were clean and bright. The sinks were empty of dirty dishes, and the trays of knives, forks and spoons looked freshly washed.

"Where did everyone go?" Lacey asked as if lost in a dream.

"As soon as we make ourselves some lunch," Casey said, opening a walk-in icebox, "we're going to find out."

Lacey fixed her brother with a questioning gaze. "Do you mind if I ask how we're going to pay?"

He reached into his pants pocket and held up five folded one-dollar bills. "I borrowed from my piggy bank for just such an emergency."

Finding what they wanted in the big icebox and a pantry, they made cheese and ham sandwiches with mayonnaise, mustard, lettuce and tomato. For drinks they found a small pitcher filled with milk. Since they were half starved, it all tasted good, so good that they had to use their utmost self-control to keep from making more sandwiches.

But Casey looked at the menu and declared, "We have eaten up a dollar's worth of ham and cheese sandwiches with two glasses of milk. We can't take more without paying more."

"That's all right," said Lacey. "I'm full anyway."

They left the dollar on the table under the saltshaker and walked back out onto the wooden sidewalk. Then they looked up and down the street as fear and shock mushroomed inside them.

The middle of the street was as empty as a bedroom without a bed, as empty as a tool shed without tools, even emptier than a mountain stream without water.

Vin Fiz was gone. She had disappeared, vanished and evaporated as though she had never existed.

"She's not here!" Lacey cried. "Someone has taken Vin Fiz!"

Floopy frantically ran around the spot where he'd last seen the airplane and raised his nose toward the sky. Then he began to circle, using his big, black nose like the needle pointing on a compass. Catching the scent, he gave off a howl and began running down the street toward the big hill beyond the town. Both Lacey and Casey gave chase.

Though not nearly as fast as a greyhound or even a dachshund, who could run rings around a basset hound, Floopy’s short, stubby legs could carry him miles and miles without tiring. He soon left Lacey and Casey far behind.

"Oh no," cried Lacey, "We’ve lost Floopy."

"We'll catch him," Casey said confidently. "Look down. All we have to do is follow the tracks."

Staring down onto the dirt road, Lacey could see Floopy's paw prints over the wheel ruts of Vin Fiz. Casey pointed to hoof marks also pressed into the soft dirt. "Whoever stole our airplane towed it away with a horse."

They ran, following the trail until the tracks disappeared when the dirt road turned into a rock road that seemed to travel in all directions. "Oh no," Lacey cried again, searching in vain for a sign of the trail. "Now we'll never find Floopy or Vin Fiz."

"Don't worry, Sis. Look closer."

Lacey knelt down and studied the rock. There, before her eyes, as plain as the tips of her fingers, was a trail of black oil drops that traveled on toward the big hill outside of town. She looked up and laughed. "Vin Fiz is leaving a trail so we can find her."

"I told you she was enchanted," Casey said, puffing out his chest with an "I told you so" expression on his face. "And when we find her, we'll find Floopy. Come on, let's hurry."

The twins raced across the flat sea of rocks, following the trail of oil. As they got closer to the big hill, they came onto railroad tracks. These were not your ordinary wide railroad tracks with long ties and thick steel rails. This track was just a little over a foot wide from rail to rail.

"What sort of train runs on these narrow rails?" questioned Casey.

"Remember the train we rode on in the park when Father took us to the Castroville carnival last summer?" Lacey asked. "It had small rails too. They called it a narrow gauge."

They followed the track until it came to a huge pile of rock that fell off down the hill. Two rusty iron cars in the shape of large buckets stood on the rails that ended at the top of the rock pile. The bucket cars were attached together by what Casey recognized as couplings and were filled with rocks.

"They're ore carts," said Lacey.

"How do you know?"

"I saw them in a picture book on gold mining. They're used to haul ore dug from mines."

Then Casey's eyes followed the twin rails into the hillside and he saw it. No more than a hundred feet away and no less than ninety feet away was the entrance to a cave whose mouth yawned menacingly.

"The oil trail leads into that cave," he declared in a hushed voice.

Slowly, holding hands, they walked until they had entered the cave. It widened into a cavern as big as their barn back home.

Joyously, the children clapped their hands and shouted with glee. "Vin Fiz! There's Vin Fiz!"

And so she was.

The yellow airplane with the green lettering sat in the center of the cave, as good as the day she had materialized, which, of course, was that same day.

But something was wrong. Lacey immediately realized what it was.

"Floopy isn't here," she moaned. "I don't see him anywhere."

Casey nodded toward an opening in one wall, where the narrow-gauge railroad entered. "He must have run in there."

They approached what they recognized as the entrance to a mine shaft. Suddenly, three very tall men, at least they looked very tall to a pair of ten-year-olds, came near and glared down at the children. The one who stood in front of the other two was dressed like an old Western gunslinger, with his Colt revolver hung in a holster on his belt. A black hat covered an oily mange of hair and a huge walrus mustache spread across his upper lip. He wore a black shirt tucked into black pants tucked into black boots. His henchmen—they had to be his henchmen since he acted like a boss—were also dressed in black Western clothes. The twins were both relieved and fearful to see one of the men holding Floopy, who was whining with a muzzle around his nose and jaws.

The one clutching Floopy under one arm hissed at the man in front of him, "I told you they'd show up, Boss, after we stole their airplane."

"Yeah," said the other henchman, grinning. "It was my idea."

"No it wasn't. It was mine."

"Was not."

"Was too."

"Not."

"Too."

"You're both wrong," snapped the Boss. "I thought of it. Now be quiet."

The two henchmen hunched their shoulders and cowered at the Boss's cold voice.

The Boss glared down at the children and growled, "And where did you two little scamps pop up from? And who sent you?"

"Nobody sent us." Casey stepped in front of his sister since she was trembling so much, she could hardly stand. "We flew here"—he paused and pointed toward Vin Fiz—"in our airplane, from Castroville."