Chapter 29

Consequences

Gabe and I couldn’t stop passing the key back and forth.

It was small but ornate. The top was some kind of iron skull. It was awesome. We had no idea what it might open.

The crinkly old map was simpler. Just a set of coordinates and some hand-drawn mounds of rock. The mounds in the middle looked like an actual castle, or maybe a sandcastle, and had a blood-red X drawn overtop.

Here’s the thing we’d learned about maps: they get you close to a place, but not standing-on-top-of-anactual-X close. So we still had to do some searching.

I looked out the car window as we drove farther into the desert. There were a LOT of rocks. And they all seemed to look like the mounds on the map.

“I had hoped this last part would be easier,” I said.

Gabe nodded. “Maybe we’ll know the perfect mound when we see it?”

I smiled, imagining the scene. “The sun will set just over the top,” I said, “sending rays of light flowing. There’ll be some awesome dramatic music playing.”

“Verdi.”

“Disco. And then a fallen angel with wings of fire will raise a hand and point toward a cave, saying—”

Sam broke our reverie. “The sun will be setting in about two hours, angel or no angel. If you haven’t found it by then, we’ll have to get moving and come back tomorrow. The desert can be pretty darn cold at night.”

Jo tapped the dashboard. “And we should stop for gas and oil. Don’t want to be trapped out there.”

Miles back, we’d passed a sign with a picture of a longhorn skull and the words “Al’s Gas—Last Stop Before You Drop.” Later, another one read, “Leaving Civilization? Better Visit Al’s Station.” And finally, “Last Gas Before Your Last Gasp.”

I totally wanted to meet this guy!

And Al’s rusted sign appeared on the horizon as we made the next turn.

“Shoot,” Jo said.

“Is it closed?” Gabe asked.

She held up Sam’s cellphone. “No. But we just lost service, so we can’t use the phone as a GPS.”

Sam didn’t seem as concerned. “It’s cool. I’ve got a pretty good idea where we’re heading. I’ll get us close.”

I stared at the heat rippling off the ground, the miles of cacti and barren rock. I hoped Sam was right.

We pulled into Al’s. There was a sign on the pump that read, “Don’t pass this gas! Pay inside . . . unless Al’s died.”

Seriously, this guy!

Sam started filling up.

Jo went to find some motor oil and use the bathroom.

Gabe and I went to see what snacks Al might offer. I also wanted to share my five-star review of his signage.

A little bell dinged as we pushed open the screen door.

“Afternoon,” said a deep bass voice from somewhere to our right. “Can I help you all?”

Al, it turned out, was about a thousand years old.

He sat behind a scuffed tile counter with samples of beef jerky, beef rinds and some kind of beef-flavored gum.

“Anything without beef?” Gabe asked.

Al frowned. “Why would anyone want that?” Then he smiled. “Potato chips are back there behind the spark plugs. I think there’s a couple of non-beef-flavored varieties.”

Gabe went off to look.

“I LOVE your signs!” I said.

He bowed slowly. “Those signs don’t lie. I made them years ago, when this really was the only road through the desert. People would think, ‘I can skip Al’s and make it to the other side.’ They’d find them the next morning—lost, sometimes frozen to death. Or bitten by a rattler. Eaten by scorpions. Or coyotes.”

Seriously, could Al be any cooler?

He had more. “Or wild dogs. Or stabbed by a cactus.”

I heard Sam yell that she was done filling up.

Jo said something I couldn’t hear.

“Or trapped under a rockslide. Or—”

Rockslide.

I had an idea. “So, Al, you know this area really well?”

“Yup. Been here all my life. Old as the rocks, some say. Why?”

“Well, we’re looking for some kind of castle, and we really want to find it before sunset. But we don’t seem to have cell service anymore, so we’re kinda guessing about the coordinates.”

He listened, nodding. Then he rubbed his chin and looked at me.

“Can’t really help you with the numbers. Never had a cellphone myself. But did you say castle?”

“Yes. The Monster’s Castle.”

He smiled. “I know it very well. Used to hike around there as a kid. But you won’t find it on a map, leastways any official map.”

Gabe had rejoined us, his arms wrapped around about ten bags of chips. “Why not?”

“Well, the official maps all call it Table Top.” He laughed. “Stupid name for something so strange and beautiful. The locals, though, we’ve always called it the Monster’s Castle. Legend has it the cave there is haunted. Makes an awful racket when the wind blows.”

As if on cue, the wind began to blow outside, slapping Al’s screen door open and shut.

Okay, it was actually Sam and Jo coming in to pay, but it was getting windy.

“You’ve got some amazing tools in your garage,” Jo said. “Antiques!”

Al grinned. “Like me. But thank you.”

“Is the castle far?” I asked.

“It’d take a little while to walk. But in a car . . .” He got up and motioned for us to follow him. Once at the back door, he pointed. “You see that mountain top there in the distance?”

An almost perfect triangle cut into the sky.

We nodded.

“You head straight for that. You’ll have to pull off the main road when it turns. Then you gotta walk, but keep heading for the mountain. Okay so far?”

We nodded again.

“Okay, there’ll be a point where you see a riverbed split. One arm cuts to the left and the other heads down to the right. Go left. It’ll wind a little, almost like you’re in a valley. The Monster’s Castle is in among a bunch of other rock formations there.”

“Can’t miss it, I bet,” I said.

Al chuckled. “Oh, you can miss it. If you do, you’ll keep walking until your feet wear off. It can be like a maze inside that place, so don’t be hasty about it.”

He closed the door and shuffled back to his desk.

“That’ll be thirty dollars for the gas and oil and another twelve for the chips. The advice is free.”

Sam paid him and we headed back to the car, ready for the final leg of our epic adventure. The wind was actually picking up now, sending puffs of dust into the air.