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I figured that if we were hearing Jerry, he would have chosen the easier route. When the groan didn’t come again, I said, “Go left.”

Slowly and carefully, Graham maneuvered the ATV. For the longest few beats, I was convinced we’d either chosen the wrong way or the noise we’d heard hadn’t been human. But then I spotted a brown thing that looked like a boot.

“Stop!” I exclaimed as I jumped off the ATV.

I tripped and high-stepped my way toward the boot, cactus needles finding their way though my jeans and into the side of my calf. The pain only registered as a distant thing, but I knew I’d have to deal with it later.

“Holy shit,” I said when I came upon the body.

Jerry Smoot was alive, but barely.

“Bring water!” I yelled.

Jerry Smoot was sixty-nine and in good shape. He’d spent his life trudging through the desert, and though he’d been searching for bones all these years, the exercise had done him good. Heat and maybe a bump on his head, however, were going to set him back a bit.

I kneeled beside him as he was going in and out of half consciousness, though he didn’t seem to fall fully under. Graham moved quickly and surely, making shade for Jerry out of sticks and his shirt. He dribbled a little water into the older man’s mouth and then stuck his cool water bottle next to Jerry’s neck.

“I have a satellite phone. I’ll call for help,” he said.

Graham stood and stepped away as he spoke into his phone. “Send a chopper. We have a man who needs to get to Tucson for medical attention immediately. This guy doesn’t have long—you what? That’s bullshit. I’ve approved the chopper. You can send the bill to the university in Boulder. If you don’t get out here to help this guy, I promise I will ruin you.”

I blinked at the harsh words, wondering why Graham felt the need to use them and holding on to hope that help was on the way.

There was a chance we could figure out how to transport Jerry using the ATV but not safely. I would have waited out there if we could have secured Jerry to Graham and onto the four-wheeler, but we didn’t know anything about Jerry’s injuries. The ATV didn’t seem like a good idea.

I said, “Look, you drive back into town just in case the chopper doesn’t come. We need more help.”

“You take the ATV. I’ll wait here with Jerry.”

I was tempted, and though I knew I could figure it out well enough, I’d never driven a recreational four-wheeler. My Jeep had been enough to get me wherever I needed to go.

“No, you. Hurry, though.”

There wasn’t time to argue. Graham nodded and hopped back onto the ATV. Expertly, he maneuvered it around and got it headed in the right direction, probably before I could have figured out how to turn on the ignition.

I sat on the ground next to Jerry and tried to figure out what to do. I kept dribbling water into his mouth and onto his cracked lips. Every time I felt his pulse, it seemed to become slower and weaker, so I stopped doing that.

“Hey, Jer, I’m right here. It’s Hazel.”

Suddenly, I realized we hadn’t searched any farther for Joey. Was he out here too? I didn’t think he was—his cell phone in the trailer made me think … well, I didn’t know what to think.

Nevertheless, I stood. “Joey! Joey!”

The only answer was the hot and increasingly lonely wind. “Shit.”

I sat down again “Aw, Jer, what happened?”

He grumbled something incoherent and seemed to be trying to roll his head so he could look at me.

I put my hand on his arm. “It’s okay. We’ll talk later.”

“No … ooo,” Jerry uttered.

“Shh. I’m right here.”

“I saw … he hit me.”

Jerry’s face was covered in the same grime we all got covered in if we were outside long enough, but as I examined his face more closely, I saw that bump and what might be a bruise on his jaw.