The midday sun beat down on the desert sand. A young girl covered in dirt and dried blood lay where she’d fallen, too exhausted to get up. Above, a lone hawk circled. Two vultures had landed, stretching their fleshy necks to get a better look at her. One of them squawked, but she didn’t move. The hawk circled again, then dove. The scavengers hopped sideways with indignant screeches. She pushed herself up, and the hawk changed course, soaring back into the sky. The vultures lingered; she glared at them.

“Fuck off.” Her voice cracked. “I ain’t dead yet.”

The huge birds stared with glittering beady eyes. A flash of anger filled her, and she bared her teeth and growled, swiping in their direction like an angry cat. The vultures took off in a flurry of noise and dust.

Now alone, she struggled to her feet. Her chapped lips stung, and her throat burned with thirst. She started trudging forward again, not in any particular direction. Just one foot in front of the other. Her stomach cramped. The last thing she’d eaten had been a couple of small eggs she’d stolen from a nest two days ago.

The sun had moved halfway across the sky when a dust cloud appeared in the distance. She stopped walking, swaying as her legs trembled. Running was pointless; her pursuer could track anything. She took a deep breath and clenched her fists at her sides, steeling herself against seeing his face.

The ramshackle bikes skidded to a stop, and she squinted through the dust to see three strangers. For a moment, she felt lightheaded with a strange mix of relief and disappointment. It wasn’t him. The two on the sides revved their snarling engines, looking her over in a way that made her feel cold. One was young, still a boy, and the other was a giant man who leered at her, flashing a crude gold tooth. But she paid attention to the one in the middle. Faded tattoos crawled up his neck, and he eyed her with a calculating gaze. The other two kept looking at him as though waiting for instruction.

For a moment, she hesitated. She could try to run. She could cry and scream. She could even try to fight. But her brother had taught her too well for that. He’d trained her to survive.