Shadows from the clouds moved in large groups across the sparse land like gray battalions. Dirt swirled in lower circles and snakes buried themselves in the newly shuffled earth. Thunderheads began to blow east toward Bill, and he watched them dwarf the plateau in the distance. He counted the mesas one by one.
Earlier in the day he had ridden across the plain he now surveyed and found shelter in a high place that had been cut from rock centuries ago. He knew the riders that followed his path from the west would not have time to find such a place now, as a wall of rumbling deep blue had begun to build behind them. The two riders on horseback were trailed by one on a mule. They made their way across the green river that wound around the base of the plateau. The shine from the river threw a white echo onto the rock wall and the sound of splashing hooves bounced heavily around them. The banks were caked with the tracks of game and travelers.
Once across the river, they were greeted by a wide mouth of flat land. The formations behind them had blocked the warning signs of the storm but now it showed itself to them. The horses would not turn back towards it now.
From where Bill watched, he could see the riders and everything that unfolded behind them for miles. The sky was now a thick matting of purple and black and the sun had gone behind it all. Crackling bolts began to interrupt the continuous roll of thunder, and faint veins of light touched down on the plain. It was at such a distance that Bill thought the little bolts looked like frayed string that he could grasp with his fingers and pull.
The two on horseback took off hard towards the east, their quirts swiftly rising and falling on the hindquarters of the horses. The mule bucked his rider and the man fell to the ground in a heap and did not move again. The mule tried to run but found itself lost in the mercy of the storm, and soon the man disappeared in the thick curtain of rain. Black clouds trailed after the men on horses and the lightning nipped at them as they struggled east. The mesas were now only dark shapes in the distance. Bill had lost their count and began to feel a thickness in his gut.
In the rock, a cold had set in and Bill leaned over and pulled a thick wool blanket from his bed roll and wrapped it around his thin shoulders. The flames from his fire bent with the wind and the thin smoke rose and rolled along the hanging rock above him and out into the night. The two men rode like little toys across the floor.