Dai, an Apache lady, whispers the name of the man who buried her alive while ants cover her body. From then on, the desert is her weapon, and her revenge is a story that will live on. In the midst of dust, fire, and betrayal, a man named Bryant will meet her fate. They will confront a concealed past and a hell that endures beneath the scorching sand.
The sun shone down on the desert, melting the sand as if hell itself were breathing on the ground. There was a dark object lying half-buried in the middle of the golden sea. It was still and covered in dust and small critters that moved slowly. Ants crawled all over her, creeping up her neck and biting her dry, chapped flesh. Her mouth was open, and she was hardly breathing. The only sound was the wind moaning between the stones, like an old, persistent complaint.
Dai, the Apache woman, was barely awake. Her thoughts drifted between recollections and shadows. She remembered the harsh laughter of the men who had buried me alive, the echo of their voices, and the name she would never forget: Silas Pike. He owned half the area and had told her to be punished. He had charged her with treason, horse theft, and helping outlaws. But Dai knew what was really going on. She had heard something that no one else was supposed to hear under the floorboards of the hall.
Ants
Dust rising in the distance.
In the heat haze, a horse moved slowly. Bryant, a bounty hunter who was tired of killing, halted when he saw something sticking out of the earth. He wasn’t sure if it was a dead body or a miracle. He got off and wiped the sweat off his forehead. The scent of death and heated dirt filled the desert. He walked up carefully, with his hand on his gun. In Arizona, even the dead could be a trap.
He saw the face when he bent down. It wasn’t just any dead body; it was a woman. Her chest rose and fell slowly, as if the air didn’t want to leave her. Ants crawled all over her skin, and her eyes pierced him like a spear.
Bryant took a step back in shock. He had seen many dead bodies, but none that were still alive with their eyes open. He knelt down, pushed the sand away with his hands, and said softly, “Damn… you’re still alive, aren’t you?”
Dai didn’t move while he watched him. She tried to say something, but her lips were shaking. “Water,” she said in a weak murmur.
He carefully raised her head and poured a few drops from his canteen. She drank them like they were pure life. Sand stuck to her wet skin and made muck.
“Who the hell did this to you?” He mumbled.
She said one name in a gasp: “Him.”
Bryant stopped. That name was familiar to him. Silas Pike was in charge of trade routes, ranches, and sheriffs. If Pike wanted her dead, she must have witnessed something that was worth more than her life.
Bryant put her on his horse without thinking about it. “Hold on, woman.” I won’t let you die like this—not on my route.
The sun went down slowly, like a knife going into flesh. The desert watched them as they walked through the dunes and shadows.
Bryant handed her the last of his water later, next to a ravine where the air was cooler. When she asked him why he would help her, he said in a low voice, “Because no one should die underground.” Not even you.
The night came. Shadows moved across Dai’s face. Bryant poked the fire. “I need answers soon.” And I’m not sure I’ll enjoy them.
Dai dreamed about flames, voices, and Pike’s face looking down at her grave. She woke up with a strangled scream. Bryant told her not to worry, but he wasn’t sure either.
Bryant nodded when she inquired if he had worked for Pike. “That’s why I know he buried you alive: he was afraid of what you knew.”
A breeze blew the ashes away. Dai said softly, “Then you’re wrong…” He should be afraid of what I’ve become.
They rode south of Dry Creek at dawn. Her wounds hurt like scorching coals. She continued, “If Pike finds me alive, he’ll finish what he started.”
Bryant said, “Then we make sure he doesn’t.”
Dai told the truth as they traveled: Pike had been selling property that belonged to her people. When she talked to him about it, he asked her to bury him alive. He had done the same thing to her brother before her.
Bryant’s jaw got tight. It all made sense.
He responded, “Then we go back.” “But don’t expect mercy when everything starts to burn.”
They rode in the direction of Pike’s property. Bryant asked her whether she was scared at night, when the fire was dwindling. She said, “Fear died with me the day they put me in the ground.”
A sandstorm was coming soon. Dai smiled and said, “We can use it.” The desert should blind him, just like it did me.
The storm took them all. Bryant and Dai were not together. Dai ran into Iram Cole, one of Pike’s soldiers. Bryant came through the dunes and shot him down before he could hurt her.
Bryant said, “We’re all dead in this desert.” “It’s just a matter of time.”
Finally, they got to Pike’s property. They got in through the old well, which was where she had been thrown alive. She went down into the dark and got a gold pendant with the Pike family insignia on it, which proved he was guilty.
People saw them. There were gunshots. They fought their way out through dust, blood, and screaming.
Then the last fight happened.
Pike was inside the tower, waiting with a drink of brandy.
He sneered, “So the story is true.” “The Apache woman who was buried has come back.”
Dai flung the medallion on the table, and it sounded like a gunshot.
“I found it in my grave,” she replied, her voice firm. “You dropped it because you thought I wouldn’t breathe again.”
Pike sought to excuse himself. She didn’t pay attention.
She aimed the gun toward his chest.
He begged. “Don’t do it; you’ll become what you hate!”
“No,” Dai said softly. You already did it.
And she pulled the trigger.
The tower was quiet.
They set fire to the ranch, letting the past go up in flames with it.
The smoke billowed upwards, akin to a reversed prayer.
“Where are we going now?” she questioned.
Bryant stared at the horizon.
“To a place where the wind doesn’t know who I am.”
They rode toward the river Salado. With each step, Dai appeared to shed the identity of the woman who had been buried under Pike’s name.
Bryant responded, “It’s over.”
Dai shook her head.
“Nothing ends as long as the desert remembers our names.”
