“Daddy, look!” Veronica said excitedly, staring out the living room window.

The blue skies and yellow sun had turned black. Birds of every color flew in one direction, away from the volcano. Fiery lava gushed out in giant arcs from the volcano’s peak, as ghostly steam rings stretched for miles into the wild, ash-flaked sky.

Veronica grabbed the family iPad from an end table. Two years ago, for the third-grade science fair, she had set up sensors all around her yard to measure earthquakes. Her father monitored the sensors on an iPad app that showed something like an X-ray of the volcano, how much lava might pour out, and even the temperature of the lava and the ground. The app was also connected to sensors placed by other hobby scientists on other volcanoes, including the largest active volcano of all, Mount Mystery.

Her screen told her this lava was hot—more than 1,500 degrees—hotter than an oven. The app showed a web of different-colored lava tubes deep underground, carrying molten lava all around the volcano. The red and orange tubes carried hot lava right now, while the blue ones were cold and empty. But today Veronica did not need the screen to find the lava. Outside the window, a river of fire headed straight for the house.

Still on the phone, Veronica’s dad glanced down at the iPad. “That won’t be necessary, John,” he said. “Maddy’s safe here. The Red Lady’s just putting on a show. I’ll call you back in a few.” And he hung up.

Red-glowing rocks hurled through the sky, pounding the lava shields and rattling the windowpanes. The shields stopped the biggest bombs, but the smaller ones danced in on the wind, pelting the house like so many fireflies, blinking on and off all around them.

The approaching lava glowed dark red, almost black, punctuated by veins of orange-yellow. Trees and bushes burst into flames as the lava tongue licked ever closer. “It’s coming for us,” Maddy whispered, spellbound.

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