The Bird Saviors Read Online Free Page B
she rubs crusty tears from her eyes and can see again. She pulls off the gauze mask and sits up, coughing and wheezing. All about her dust covers the grass and stones. She struggles to her feet, cradling her arm close to her side. Her elbow is swollen and shot with hot pain.
    Not far away a coyote stands motionless. She stares numb and confused in its direction for several moments before she notices it, still as the landscape, the gray of its fur contrasting with the dust- covered boulders and stones.
    She stares at it and takes a step forward. The coyote drops its head and backs away, keeping its eyes on her, until after a few feet it turns away and trots down the middle of the gulch floor.
    She follows the coyote's prints in the dust. The gulch is a dozen feet deep, with sides of steep, corrugated dirt. At its lip are hard- packed overhangs, pocked with the mud cones of Cliff Swallow nests.
    She comes upon two illegals in white cowboy hats, carrying bolsas , their faces covered by bandannas. Only their eyes and black hair are visible in the wedge of skin above their noses and below their foreheads.
    Ruby pulls her gauze mask over her nose to hide her face. She stands coughing as they near. Her heart beats so hard she feels faint.
    The illegals look like sand people. One of them has a bandage on his hand, brown blotches on the gauze, the stain of blood seep. They nod at her and pause.
    She nods back and takes to coughing again.
    One of the illegals removes his hat and holds it in both hands. Está enferma? he asks.
    SÃ. Mi boca está lleno de arena.
    Lo siento. Puedo ayudar?
    No, gracias. Estoy bien.
    The man nods. Bueno. He looks behind him, in the direction she's headed. The one who has not spoken, who has the bandage soaked with blood and coated with dust on his hand, removes his hat and slaps it against his leg, brushing free a plume. A rifle hangs from his shoulder.
Ruby moves away. V aya con dios , she says.
Dondé está su casa? asks the one with the rifle.
    She keeps walking. She listens for their movements. She tenses to run even as she yet steps carefully through the sand and cactus. Her heart in her throat, she struggles to suppress her cough and to breathe, to be able to hear any sound of movement behind her.
    Ruby moves toward town slowly. She feels snowflakes in her eyelashes like the smallest of blessings. A glorious hush falls upon the world. With the dust storm behind her and the snow squall upon her, she has no sense of east or west, past or present.
    She thinks of the warmth and comfort she could find if she reaches the vet's office where her mother works, if she reaches someone to take her fever, to hold her up. To keep her from falling. To keep her safe. To return her to her baby girl, to squire them both away from Lord God and all his righteous rants and ravings.
    She's faint and weak and begins to doubt her eyes. The falling snow looks red, soft crystals floating down like bloodstained feathers. She knows she's close to town but suddenly a quartet of horses appears galloping, snorting and shaking their heads.
    One is a palomino, a pale golden blur in the blizzard of red snowflakes. The others are chestnut and roan, shaggy manes and arched tails. Their eyes are bright and wild as they gallop past. One of the roans, a stallion, slows and whinnies, tossing his head up and down.
    Ruby remains still, frightened by the power and excitement of the horses. They canter around her for a moment, this quiet girl eerily motionless in the middle of a desert field, a girl out of place. It's like something out of Lives of the Saints , a miraculous girl there to tame the wild heart of the horses, only it is the animals
    Not far away a coyote stands motionless. She stares numb and confused in its direction for several moments before she notices it, still as the landscape, the gray of its fur contrasting with the dust- covered boulders and stones.
    She stares at it and takes a step forward. The coyote drops its head and backs away, keeping its eyes on her, until after a few feet it turns away and trots down the middle of the gulch floor.
    She follows the coyote's prints in the dust. The gulch is a dozen feet deep, with sides of steep, corrugated dirt. At its lip are hard- packed overhangs, pocked with the mud cones of Cliff Swallow nests.
    She comes upon two illegals in white cowboy hats, carrying bolsas , their faces covered by bandannas. Only their eyes and black hair are visible in the wedge of skin above their noses and below their foreheads.
    Ruby pulls her gauze mask over her nose to hide her face. She stands coughing as they near. Her heart beats so hard she feels faint.
    The illegals look like sand people. One of them has a bandage on his hand, brown blotches on the gauze, the stain of blood seep. They nod at her and pause.
    She nods back and takes to coughing again.
    One of the illegals removes his hat and holds it in both hands. Está enferma? he asks.
    SÃ. Mi boca está lleno de arena.
    Lo siento. Puedo ayudar?
    No, gracias. Estoy bien.
    The man nods. Bueno. He looks behind him, in the direction she's headed. The one who has not spoken, who has the bandage soaked with blood and coated with dust on his hand, removes his hat and slaps it against his leg, brushing free a plume. A rifle hangs from his shoulder.
Ruby moves away. V aya con dios , she says.
Dondé está su casa? asks the one with the rifle.
    She keeps walking. She listens for their movements. She tenses to run even as she yet steps carefully through the sand and cactus. Her heart in her throat, she struggles to suppress her cough and to breathe, to be able to hear any sound of movement behind her.
    Ruby moves toward town slowly. She feels snowflakes in her eyelashes like the smallest of blessings. A glorious hush falls upon the world. With the dust storm behind her and the snow squall upon her, she has no sense of east or west, past or present.
    She thinks of the warmth and comfort she could find if she reaches the vet's office where her mother works, if she reaches someone to take her fever, to hold her up. To keep her from falling. To keep her safe. To return her to her baby girl, to squire them both away from Lord God and all his righteous rants and ravings.
    She's faint and weak and begins to doubt her eyes. The falling snow looks red, soft crystals floating down like bloodstained feathers. She knows she's close to town but suddenly a quartet of horses appears galloping, snorting and shaking their heads.
    One is a palomino, a pale golden blur in the blizzard of red snowflakes. The others are chestnut and roan, shaggy manes and arched tails. Their eyes are bright and wild as they gallop past. One of the roans, a stallion, slows and whinnies, tossing his head up and down.
    Ruby remains still, frightened by the power and excitement of the horses. They canter around her for a moment, this quiet girl eerily motionless in the middle of a desert field, a girl out of place. It's like something out of Lives of the Saints , a miraculous girl there to tame the wild heart of the horses, only it is the animals
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