Anaya had paused as safe a distance ahead of the fog as she was able and rested her hands against her knees regaining her breath.  She looked up at him and shook her head.  "No...thought she was with you."  The girls that remained with Anaya were gasping for air and paid the two of them no mind.  One was inspecting a scrape on her knee from when she had fallen.  Anaya glanced down distracted and noticed for the first time that there were minute holes in her shirt as though she had walked through an acid cloud...  It took her a moment to recall the crazed man's voice and how black spittle had flown from his lips... how his blood had steamed.  She shuddered, then turned to survey the wilderness around them for any sign of the girl.  She saw nothing but sun-blown sand and the dry desert foliage.  The mist was now a low-lying cloud on the horizon behind them.  Horrid images filled her mind as to what may have happened to the little girl in that psychotic man's grip, but she knew it must be nothing to what Shawn must be fearing.  She debated within herself on the next course of action gauging Shawn expression.  Practically speaking, going back was suicide....