Status Updates From Unassigned Territory

But just what was left for the old boy to do anyway, if suicide and insanity were his stock in trade? The dude had after all been a long time gone. What if, upon getting one good look at what had come down in his absence- his own shadow as it were- the son of a bitch should lose his nerve, turn right around and beat it, straight back to the safety of eternal night. A big disappointment, no doubt, for all concerned.

Distances were hard to judge in the desert. People had died here, or so he'd been told, believing they could reach some point they'd picked out in the cool of the morning only to wind up trapped by the heat, the point they'd started for no closer. And of course there had been no fancy inns to welcome the first visitors, no pools or Jacuzzis. Just the land. Tricks done with mirrors. There was a conspiracy for you.

At some point near sundown she complicated matters considerably with the purchase of two bottles of Mad Dog 20/20.

Charlie was a tall, skinny desert rat in his late forties...[who looked like] Buffalo Bill on speed.

His first real job was sneaking around in the dust attaching bumper stickers to cars which read: I SAW THE THING! The work paid a dollar an hour, and it was dangerous. Most people didn't want a bumper sticker admitting to such an act...

Each had done what was expected. For each it had ended badly.