The sun was a hammer against Luna's skull.
She lay face-down in the sand. Couldn't remember falling. Couldn't remember how long she'd been here. Time had become liquid. Slipping through her fingers like blood.
Blood.
So much blood.
Luna's eyes cracked open. Desert stretched endlessly. Yellow sand. Blue sky. Vultures circling overhead. Black shapes against the burning light.
They were waiting.
She tried to move. Her body didn't respond. Arms splayed out. Legs twisted. She was a broken doll discarded in the wasteland.
The cuts from Victor's knife had reopened during her escape. The twisted ankle had swollen to twice its size. Every breath felt like drowning.
Luna's vision blurred. She saw movement. Small. Dark-haired.
Aria.
The little girl stood ten feet away. Wearing her thin nightgown. Bare feet in the sand. Those big brown eyes staring.
"Mama," Aria said. "Why did you leave me?"
Luna's throat closed. "I didn't. I tried. I'm sorry."
"You left me with the bad man."
"I'm coming back. I promise. Just... give me a minute."
Aria tilted her head. "You're dying, Mama."
"No. No, I'm not. I'm just resting."
"The birds are waiting for you."
Luna blinked. Aria vanished. Just heat shimmer and sand.
Hallucination.
Luna's cracked lips pulled into something like a smile. Her mind was breaking. Good. Death would be easier if she wasn't entirely present for it.
Maya's voice drifted through her consciousness. Warm. Familiar.
"Get up, baby girl. You can't quit now."
"I'm tired, Maya."
"I know. But that little girl needs you. Get up."
"I can't."
"You've survived worse than this. Remember the fire? Remember crawling through smoke when you were eight years old? You didn't give up then."
Luna's fingers twitched. Dug into sand. She tried to push herself up. Her arms shook. Gave out. She collapsed back down.
A vulture landed nearby. Hopped closer. Its black eyes gleamed with patient hunger.
Luna stared at it. "Not yet."
The bird cocked its head.
"I said not yet!" Luna's voice came out as a rasp. Barely human.
The vulture hopped back. But it didn't leave. Just waited. Patient.
Luna's vision darkened at the edges. Her heartbeat was sluggish. Irregular. Her body was shutting down. Cell by cell. System by system.
The thirst was worse than the pain. Her tongue felt like leather. Her throat was sandpaper. She hadn't had water since before the facility.
How long ago was that? Hours? Days?
Time meant nothing in the desert.
She thought about Aria trapped in that facility. About Victor's hands on her daughter. About the years ahead. The training. The breaking. The eventual sale.
No.
Luna's hand moved. Inches. Her fingers found a rock. She gripped it. Threw it weakly at the vulture.
The bird flapped away. Landed twenty feet off. Still watching.
"Not. Yet." Luna repeated.
But her body disagreed. The darkness spread. Pulled her under.
She woke to voices.
Not real ones. Ghosts.
Victor's voice. "You're nothing without me. You'll die out here like the worthless thing you are."
Maya's voice. "Don't listen to him, baby girl. Stay strong. Stay awake."
Aria's voice. "Mama? Where are you?"
Luna's eyes opened. The sun had moved. Afternoon now. The heat was unbearable. She could feel her skin blistering. Burning.
Dehydration was killing her faster than the blood loss.
Her lips were cracked and bleeding. Her vision kept fading in and out. She saw double. Triple. The world spun even though she wasn't moving.
The vultures had multiplied. Five of them now. Closer. Bolder.
One hopped within arm's reach.
Luna tried to move her hand. Couldn't. Her body had stopped responding entirely.
This was it.
This was how she died.
Alone in the desert. Torn apart by scavengers. Her daughter still trapped. Maya's sacrifice meaningless.
Tears leaked from Luna's eyes. Mixed with blood and sand.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to no one. To everyone. "I tried. I'm sorry."
The vulture hopped closer. Its beak opened.
Luna closed her eyes. Waited.
Then she heard it.
A sound. Distant. Growing louder.
An engine.
Luna's eyes snapped open. She turned her head. Pain screamed through her neck but she didn't care.
Headlights. Cutting through the heat shimmer. A vehicle. Approaching.
Hope exploded in her chest. Then terror.
Victor's men.
They'd found her.
Luna's hand moved to her boot. The knife. She'd hidden a small blade there. If they were taking her back, she'd open her own throat first. She wouldn't go back to that cell. That torture room. That water filling her lungs while Aria screamed.
Her fingers found the boot. Fumbled with the leather. So weak. So slow.
The vehicle was closer now. She could hear it clearly. Not a car. Something bigger. A truck maybe.
Luna's fingers wrapped around the knife handle. She pulled.
The blade wouldn't come free. Stuck.
The truck was almost here. Fifty yards. Forty. Thirty.
Luna pulled harder. The knife slipped from her grip.
No.
She tried again. Her hand wouldn't move.
Nothing moved.
Her body had finally given up completely.
The truck stopped. Door opened. Footsteps on sand.
Luna stared at her hand. Willed it to move. To reach the knife. To do something.
Nothing.
The footsteps got closer.
A shadow fell across her.
Luna's vision blurred. She couldn't see who it was. Couldn't tell if it was Victor's men or someone else.
She tried to speak. Warn them. Threaten them. Beg them.
Her lips moved but no sound came out.
The shadow leaned closer.
And Luna's hand still wouldn't move.