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She put a hand to her throbbing forehead and gasped in pain at her own touch. She pulled her hand back. Even in the minimal light of the crescent moon, she could see the contrast between her pale skin and the dark stain on her fingers. Knowing the stain was blood made Sadie’s throat tighten and her hand shake from something other than the cold.

Fear began to take over. It was hard to breathe, and her body seemed to curl in upon itself involuntarily though her back and hip protested. Everything hurt. What had happened? How long had she been here?

“She went this way,” a voice said from somewhere above her, the words carrying on the wind. Another voice answered the first, but Sadie couldn’t make out what was said. She didn’t need to. What she needed to do was hide. Quick. Though she couldn’t remember everything, she knew that if they found her—whoever they were—she’d never make it back to Santa Fe.

Sadie knew firsthand how well the desert could hide a body.