"Leave me!" She screamed, though her voice was a dry rasp. "Let me die!" "Get up!" Elias shouted over the roar of the wind.
"You are not dying today." He tried to pull her up, but she was dead weight. She was exhausted, dehydrated, and broken by the revelation of the night before. Suddenly, a flash of lightning illuminated the dust, turning the world a ghostly, brilliant white for a split second. A crack of thunder followed instantly, shaking the ground.
Naya screamed. It was a primal sound of terror. She curled tighter, covering her ears. "The guns!" She shrieked.
"They are shooting!" Elias realized then what was happening. The thunder sounded like cannon fire. The flashing light through the dust looked like the muzzle flashes of the howitzers in the canyon. She was back there.
She was back in the winter of 1874. Elias dropped to his knees. He grabbed her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him. "Naya, look at me. It is thunder.
It is only thunder." She stared at him, her eyes wide and unseeing, lost in the memory. "My baby!" She cried. "I cannot find him.
The snow is too deep." Elias felt his heart break. He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her rigid body. He shielded her face with his coat. "I have you."
He said into her ear. "I have you." He dragged her toward a rocky overhang he had seen moments before the dust closed in, a shallow cave cut into the side of an arroyo. He pushed her into the shelter, then pulled the horse in as close as he could, using the animal's body as a windbreak. Inside the small space, the roar of the storm was muffled, but the air was still thick with dust.
Naya slumped against the rock wall, gasping for air. Elias uncorked a canteen and held it to her lips. "Drink." He ordered. She drank, coughing as the water hit her dry throat.
Then she pushed the canteen away and looked at him. The panic was receding, replaced by the cold, hard return of her hatred. "Why did you save me?" She whispered. "You should have let the sand bury me.
It would be justice." "There is no justice in dying of thirst," Elias said, leaning back against the opposite wall. They sat in the gloom, the storm raging outside like a living thing trying to claw its way in. "You killed them," Naya said. It was not an accusation anymore.