Despite her battered body, Hettie focused on getting far enough away from Villa del Punta that no one could catch up to them. The night sky was the color of an old bruise, the waning moon a beady white eye keeping watch high above.
They rode south through the flat part of the valley, pointed toward the line of distant hills. She was keenly aware that all kinds of dangers awaited them out there. Diablo’s weight bouncing against her aching thigh reassured her, though with the chupacabra and Ling and Stubbs out there, it would be dangerous to use it.
The hills grew steadily closer, which seemed odd—when she’d ridden out this way with Raúl, it’d felt as though they could’ve kept riding and never reached those red peaks.
“Everything’s going to be all right,” she said. “Come morning we’ll fin
