She felt an agonizing blast of pain and saw a brilliant flash of light— then she felt herself falling backward in space. She hit the ground headlong but never felt the impact—she seemed to be moving in slow motion, as if she were lowering herself onto a feather bed. She found herself lying on her back in the dirt a few seconds later—or was it a few minutes, or even an hour? What if Nick had come looking for her while she was unconscious? The thought made her frantic. She tried to focus her thoughts, but every heartbeat sent a mind-numbing pulse of agony through her head—and now her face hurt too.

She turned her head to the left and rubbed her face against her shoulder. She felt nothing—no steady trickle of fluid leaking from her nose. There was no blood—either the force had been insufficient or she had misjudged the angle. She thought about struggling to her feet and trying again—but when she did, she burst into tears and lay weeping on the floor.

She wasn’t sure she could even get to her feet again without passing out—and even if she did, how could she ever bring herself to drive her face into the wall with even more force than before? The misery in her head would force her to pull back a little more each time she tried, and then she would only be slowly beating herself to death.

Maybe that’s the answer, she thought. Kill myself and let Trygg find my body. That’s what the dog was trained to do, after all—that’s what she was good at. If Alena could just will herself to die, then Trygg could find her putrefying remains—or maybe she could drown herself and let Trygg find her submerged remains. That’s it—she could just drown in her own tears, and then—

My tears.

Alena turned her head and rubbed her face against her shoulder again. This time she felt thin fluid draining freely from her nose, but it still wasn’t blood. It was tears—the by-product of a distressed victim.

Alena couldn’t make herself bleed—she couldn’t even get to her feet—but she could amplify her distress. She could let her mind run wild; she could call up every personal demon and revisit every dark corner of her tortured life until she radiated terror and pain. If Nick and Trygg had visited the barn while Alena was lying peacefully unconscious there would have been no scent of distress—but she was awake now, and she could change that.

It was worth a chance. No—it was her only chance.