The Hansen Clan: Trouble in the Grand Canyon

By Bjarne Borresen

The Hansen Clan: Trouble in the Grand Canyon is an exciting action and adventure tale that places four children in a desperate battle for survival. The Hansen family sets out on a huge vacation each summer to search for adventure and explore the world. This year's trip to the Grand Canyon, however, gives them a bit more excitement than they bargained for. While visiting the Grand Canyon, Hannah Hansen slips and falls into the Canyon, pulling her three brothers, TJ, Noah, and Eli in with her. But the fall into the Canyon is just the beginning of their adventure. They stumble upon an Indian boy in desperate need for their help and a gang of men set out to steal treasures from a local Indian tribe. The Hansen children risk life and limb to stop the bad guys, rescue the Indian boy, and save their own lives in the process.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781684564576

Book preview

Chapter 1

Afull moon peeked over the canyon’s rim, slowly illuminating the landscape from what was inky blackness just moments before. A full moon was not what they wanted. Not by a long shot. Better visibility was the last thing they needed.

Jonathan Garcia, by all accounts the leader of this little group, cautiously stepped past a Whipple cholla cactus, careful to avoid its sharp points. Jonathan was a brute of a man, standing a touch over six feet tall. He weighed in at well over 250 pounds, and the majority of that was solid muscle. He had devoted the last several years of his life to either lifting weights or studying mixed martial arts. He kept a closely shaved beard and a clean-shaven head, now covered in a black bandana. His face showed the scars from martial arts.

Jonathan suddenly stopped and squatted, listening intently. The two men behind him instantly halted and quietly knelt behind him. No hesitation. The desert surrounding them was filled with soft, natural sounds. Insects were busy looking for mates. There was a slight ruffle of leaves in a Juniper tree as a rare breeze made its way through the canyon. Jonathan glanced back at the men, staring intently, then slowly rose and began silently walking again.

Jeremy and Eric understood the need for caution at this point in the journey. They were close to the village. If they were going to encounter trouble, it would be here. They moved forward, carefully choosing each footfall, mindful of every overhanging branch. Another hundred yards and they should be far enough past the village. Then they would need to climb the steep sides of the canyon.

After the difficult climb from the floor of the canyon, Jonathan chose a trail that paralleled the slope. A short time later, he veered off to the right to a seldom used trail that worked its way up the steep slope. The trail ended in a small clearing that butted up against the canyon’s wall and an old mine. Jonathan halted before the long-abandoned mine’s entrance and waited for the others. The entrance was essentially a large hole cut into the side of the slope. There were huge, square columns of timber placed on the sides and the top to bolster the opening. Bolted to the columns was a rusted iron gate that had several large, yellow, and red signs plastered across its front that read Warning, Danger, and Keep Out. Both halves of the gate were held tight by a thick chain and an ancient lock.

Jonathan stepped up to the gate and grabbed the old, rusted lock, the kind that looked like it belonged on a pirate ship: large, solid steel with an irregularly shaped hole for a key in its center. He twisted the handle. It turned easily in his hands because it had been sawed in two just above the body of the lock a week earlier. He slipped the chain out of the lock’s loop and pulled it through the gate. With a heave, he pulled the gate open, and the rusty iron hinges gave a loud squeak in protest. Eric and Jeremy snuck past Jonathan and through the gate, entering the darkness. Jonathan followed them through and pulled the gate closed behind him. He reached through the bars, slid the chain back in place, then repositioned the lock to appear as if it were still whole. He looked through the gate, scanned the steep canyon and the village in the distance that was now far below. Satisfied, he knelt on the floor of the tunnel and pulled out a folded sheet of paper from a pocket in his cargo pants and smoothed it out on the dirt floor. He took a small flashlight with a dimming cover over the lens from another pocket and used its weak light to highlight the sheet of paper.

Jeremy Atwood stepped past him and sat on the floor, leaning against the tunnel wall. Jeremy was the exact opposite of Jonathan in almost every way. He was average height and lanky. Some would say he was skinny. His face bore scars from some intense childhood acne. He had a long beak-like nose: the source of his unfortunate nickname, Beaker.

The last member of their party was Eric Johnson. Eric looked like everybody and nobody all at the same time. Five minutes after meeting him, you’d forget all about him. He was average height and average weight. He was not attractive, but not unattractive either. Light brown hair. No distinguishing marks. No tattoos. No nothing. Just a plain ol’ dude (coincidentally, this was perfect for his chosen profession which was anything illegal.) He had never been caught for any of his crimes, probably because nobody remembered him. And that was just fine with Eric.

So what’s the plan? Eric asked.

I say we go deeper, Jonathan said as he pointed down to the map. We’ve covered nearly all of the spurs up here by now. I think we need to go down.

Gonna make it hard. Long night, Beaker said as he took his solid black baseball cap off his head and ran a hand through his long, greasy hair.

Jonathan looked at him sharply. Nobody said it’d be easy, Beaker. We do what we gotta do. If we gotta go down, we go down.

Jeremy lifted up his hands in defense. Okay, okay. Just saying it’s gonna be hard, is all.

Eric rose to his feet and flipped his backpack onto his back. Whatever the price is in pain, it’s gonna be worth it, he said.

Jonathan refolded the map and tucked it back in his pocket. All right then. Let’s go. We’re burning moonlight.

Chapter 2

Early the next morning, Hannah Hansen sprinted through the trees on the edge of a small clearing, weaving between the trunks of the tall pine trees. She had to get away as fast as possible. She needed to hide. She spotted a fallen tree up ahead. She sprinted over the final few feet and leaped over its massive trunk, sliding to a stop like a baseball player sliding into second, then scooted herself back hard against the tree. She had to catch her breath and rest her thin, athletic body. Hannah was the oldest Hansen child at fifteen. She had beautiful, pale skin with a smattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks, which she absolutely hated. But she did have long, silky red hair and intense blue eyes the color of the sky, which she loved. She thought to herself, When was the last time I had to run that fast? Her heart was pounding in her chest. She took two deep breaths, then took a moment to evaluate her situation. She raised her gun. Only one bullet left. How did she let that happen? How could she have been so stupid? There were three of them, and she had only one bullet left. She might have hit one of them, maybe, but that still left two for sure. Panic began to seize her. There were two, probably three left chasing her, and only one shot left.

She rested her head against the tree’s trunk, tugged a few strands of her auburn hair loose from her pig tails and stuck them in her mouth, a nervous habit she’d had since she was a little girl. She had to find a way out of this. She racked her brain. Think, girl. Come on, think! Then an idea came to her. If she was able to…snap!

Hannah held her breath. What was that noise? It wasn’t just a forest sound, like a branch softly falling to the ground or a small animal scampering through the underbrush. Something heavy made that sound. She held still, not daring to move. Not daring even to breath.

The forest around her remained still and deathly quiet. She heard something far above in the tree’s canopy: maybe a bird taking flight. She could smell the musty odor of dirt and the mildew-covered leaves all around her. The sound that had startled her didn’t return. Should she risk a peek? She debated this with herself. Seconds passed, and still, no sound. Just do it! Slowly, she tilted over onto her left hip, making sure to keep down and behind the tree. She held completely still, straining to hear any sound. Nothing. Little by little, she turned and started to raise her head. Just as her eyes began to crest the top of the fallen tree… Thunk! A bullet rocketed through the forest and hit her dead center in the middle of her forehead.

Chapter 3

W ahooooo! TJ Hansen screamed at the top of his lungs. "Did you see that