Adrian was bending down to brush the thistles off his socks when he saw something shiny in the dirt. At first, he thought it was a quarter. He expected it to be burning hot from sitting in the sun all day. But when he picked it up, it was cold as ice.
This was no quarter, he realized. Sure, it was silver-colored and a quarter’s size and shape. But it had no markings, except one: a spiral so small you had to squint to see it.
If this were a movie, Adrian thought, this would be the moment the drumbeat began. It would start low and get louder—a drumbeat crescendo. But a crescendo to what? Could he really have found the thing Aunt Lorna had been searching for his entire life?
His eyes scanned the desert. In the distance, a cloud of dust bloomed upward; someone must be dirt biking. Beyond that, the mountains rose steeply, their sky-bound peaks white-tipped even as the valley floor sizzled. He breathed deeply and could almost taste the cactus. If he listened very closely, he could hear the sound of traffic from town murmuring on the wind.
For a moment, he considered dropping the thing back in the dirt, maybe burying it. Then he wouldn’t have to make the decision.
Instead, he tucked the object into his pocket, got back on his bike, and pedaled as fast as he could.