Chapter 13Familiar sweat slicked down Violet’s body. Her arms, sore though they were, pumped with succinct direction. With every contact of her knuckles, hay flew from the burlap bag tied to her chosen slim tree. She beat it mercilessly, letting the impact of her knuckles rattle up her arms again and again, like a perfect drum beat. It was early—too early for the sun to be up, but late enough for the day’s first light. When the sun began to rise, Violet finally took her moment to breathe. Scooping up a ladle of water from her bucket, she splashed it onto her face to cool off. Her eyes scanned the horizon.
They were a few hundred miles north east of Carson by now. Nevada’s stretches of wide desert had transitioned drastically into mountainous, rocky ridges, with plenty of wildlife to boot.
