The desolate, barren womb of the Mojave Desert, births a serial killer who is as unforgiving and harsh as the dry, thirsty landscape that is his hunting ground. Just like the swirling winds that howl through creosote bushes and blow across the spines of cacti, his motivation for his merciless actions are unclear in both direction and destination. As his demented, manic fantasy evolves, two detectives are slowly drawn into - and repelled by - the steady stream of blood and carnage that awaits them at every crime scene. As Detective Hackett and Sgt. Norman find themselves slipping deeper into the psychopath's delusional world, they are taunted by the killer, who leaves with each body a daunting piece of evidence that indicates that each victim is part of a pair, the other's body still undiscovered. The killer's expanding reign of terror leaves Hackett and Norman floating like two wayward ships without a compass in an ocean of sand, grasping for a lifeline. His murderous run begins to attract national attention, as law enforcement clings to newspaper articles that are the only commonality linking one decedent to the next, leading the FBI to descend upon the investigation. FBI profiler Jay Kraburn paints a dark picture of an elusive predator with an unquenchable thirst for blood whose killing spree will not stop until his own death or capture. With the stakes clearly defined, the investigation moves like a dust devil swirling out of control, as the beginning is confused with the end - and the in-between is as clear as a desert night without a moon.