Lex Nelson's Arc

Chapter 1 of 13

Lex Nelson crouched in the sand and read the wreckage like a page. Splintered wood, dark stains, torn rocks kicked up by panicked feet. Two days behind her sister. Two days behind the caravan that took her. She tightened her grip on the rifle and moved closer. The dog found him first. The Malinois had been pacing the ridge, nose low, ears sharp. Now it stood stiff beside a heap of stained planks, whining once. Lex followed. A man lay propped against the broken boards. Strips of cloth were wound around his middle, soaked through and crusted brown. He had bound himself with whatever he could tear. A jacket. A shirt. Bandages made from his own clothes. His eyes opened slow when her shadow fell on him. "You with them?" she asked. "Was," he said. "Until I slowed them down." A dry sound that might have been a laugh. "Name's Bauer. TK. Save the speech." He fumbled at his belt and pressed a leather pouch into her palm. Faded star. Caravan mark. "Track this. They cut northeast through the salt pan. Watering hole at the black rocks. Six men. Wagons. Your people in the second one." His hand fell. His breath thinned, then stopped. The dog sat down beside him. Lex closed her fingers around the pouch, stood, and turned northeast.