It started as a weekend trip to Las Vegas. A three-day weekend was coming up, some friends wanted to add spice to their lives and Vegas was on the bucket list. Not mine, theirs. I wanted to stay home and watch old cartoons I bought from a video store, maybe just sleep in that Friday. Maybe I didn’t make it clear to them, or maybe they just ignored me, but they had already bought me a plane ticket and booked a hotel room.
With it being too late to refund everything, so out of financial obligation, I couldn’t let that money go to waste and be a bad, boring friend.
We landed and reached the hotel before noon. I had five friends with me and everyone was feeling the excitement, especially one - Sadie. Sadie was the group extrovert, the leader. She didn’t suggest Vegas, but she sure as hell put herself in charge the moment the others considered the trip. Standing in front of us in the hotel lobby, she held a list of places for us to check out.
I stood by and let her list them off, everyone casting votes on which places to skip, which places to start with, and which ones to save for last. What we ended up with was a schedule starting with the most fun and physically demanding stuff, gradually leading towards the more exciting, unsavory stuff. I had already mentally decided to call it when evening rolled around to avoid the clubs.
I guess I am a boring friend.
I will say this about Vegas, a lot of places are surprisingly clean. Don’t get me wrong, we saw plenty of streets that looked like the physical manifestation of a painful hangover, but many were straight out of Hollywood. It’s colorful, it’s loud, it’s a theme park that people live in. It was almost surreal when we ended up on streets that looked plain and ordinary.
Men in suits, kids leaving school, that kind of thing. I guess I knew very little about Las Vegas, of course, a lot of it is normal, but still, I found it interesting. When we turned down onto a street where the buildings looked like modern art, I knew I would be in for a hell of a time. Day drinking, slot machines, live shows, you name it.
I can admire the work and effort they put into all of it, but it just wasn’t for me. When we had dinner at what I thought was a nice casino restaurant, until I saw the male servers were in very tight, revealing outfits, I had just about mentally checked out.
“Hey, I think I’m done,” I said. Before the chorus of “Aw”s could get any louder. “I’m tired. The…the flight gave me a headache and everything.”
“I have a pill for that in my purse,” one said.
“I-I think rest is better right now. You guys have fun though, try not to stay out…too late.”
I felt older with every word and excuse. I’m twenty-eight and I was talking like I was forty-eight. That being said, the amount of free relief I felt walking into that empty hotel room was criminal. I must have felt tired to some degree because the bed I fell onto had my eyes drooping. It was the cool, soft, Egyptian cotton sheets that had me feeling that sleep was the finest pleasure on Earth - I know that says a lot about me, but still, it was pretty good.
I turned the TV on, and flicked through channels, finally ending up on a new episode of How It’s Made. Well, maybe it was an old episode, I don’t know. What I can say for sure is that my brain was locked in and as the sun fell beyond the horizon, I was gone.
*
I woke up to a call. My phone was buzzing beside my head, the vibrations doing more to wake me up than the lighthearted jingle I had for a ringtone. I said the name - Sadie.
“Yeah?” I groaned. “What’s up? It’s five in the morning…where are you guys?”
“Hey, you’re really missing out here,” Sadie’s voice was garbled by music. “We’re up the road, towards the red place. We’re in the club with the big green monster truck out front. You can’t miss it. Come on!”
She hung up before I could say anything.
“You underestimate me,” I muttered.
I turned over in bed and looked out the window. The city was alive, even after a full night. Lights and sounds, the distant thumps of music. There had to be some stellar muting in the walls because I could see that the party was not far away.
I thought about going. It was the idea of missing out that bothered me a little because I didn’t think I was missing out. Yet, when so many people you call friends say that you are, you start to wonder if you really know how to live. Maybe the happiness you feel from simple things isn’t as potent as the happiness you get while being drunk in a club with your friends.
“Screw that,” I said.
I knew that was a dumb way of thinking, but I also didn’t feel that tired anymore. The least I could do was enjoy the trip my own way and at that moment, I just wanted to go for a walk. Not in the streets, of course, but I did remember Sadie mentioning on her list of activities a walk-thing just outside the city.
I was the only one who was interested, and she didn’t seem too enthusiastic when she told us about it either. I got out of bed and texted her, asking for the address, to which she sent me the Google business thing. No official page or anything, just a barebones minimum. It lacked that Vegas flair everything had and for me, that was a plus.
*
Just after midday, I arrived at the place.
I paid the taxi guy and jumped out into the heat. I always had decent clothing for the outdoors with me - it was like my entire wardrobe. Yet, the heat was still a surprise. I guess being in a cool car for half an hour would make it feel like stepping into an oven.
The trail started a small collection of shacks, with one larger building that looked like it was in good condition. It was painted an ugly yellow, with small cartoonish paints all around it, like a cactus character, a tumbleweed, with some classics like the Road Runner and Wile E, Coyote thrown in for good measure.
I don’t think they were going for a Cowboy theme, but that’s what I felt when I saw the owner - a tall woman, wearing chaps, a 10-gallon hat, and a checkered shirt. She looked like she had seen some things, just shocking the way the skin beneath her eyes seemed to bubble. Yet, when she saw me, she gave me the warmest smile.
“You must be Cassandra, right?” she greeted, marching over with her hand outstretched.
“Uh…yes, that’s me,” I said, holding mine out. She took and shook my arm like a wet noodle. “I’m not too late?”
“Not at all,” she said. “Some eccentric fellas are already set up for the first group today, there’s still time to join them before they go.”
“Group?”
“Yes, I find it’s better to send people in groups. Less chance of people getting lost, or bunching up on the trail. Better for pictures, you see?”
“Right.”
“We also have a route for horses if you’re interested in-”
“No, no horses, scare the sh-uh…they scare me. I will stick with the walking group.”
“Fair enough, I won’t press you.”
I always hated it when people said that. Nothing made me feel more ‘pressed.’ Still, she was the sweetest lady - sweeter than honey in iced tea. I didn’t say anything more and followed her to the start of the trail. There was clear signage with numbers near the fences and gates, indicating the different trails. The trail she pointed me to didn’t have a sign or number.
“The first group should be waiting there,” she pointed down the trail toward a large rock. “They are set to leave in five minutes. Do you have everything you need?”
“Water, hat, and sunscreen,” I said.
“Good, it’s hot now, but it will get cool later - a little-known fact about the desert,” Dorothy said, painting up a finger as if she expected me to take note.
Of course, I knew that already.
I nodded and started walking up the trail toward the rock. She already started her march back to the main building. I was feeling pretty good, even excited. I love the openness of the desert and I was hoping that being twenty minutes out of Vegas I would get to enjoy the natural beauty of it all.
There was a group of people waiting by the rock, but looking at them was a little…weird. I mean, I don’t want to show my ignorance, but I think they were religious or just had some kind of cultural thing going on. Maybe I was about to walk with some foreigners from overseas, or it was some kind of larping group…I don’t know.
There were at least twenty people there and it was hard to tell if they were all men or not because they were dressed in robes from head to toe. Not flowing robes either, but a lot more neat and constricted. My first real thought wasn’t, “What the hell are they wearing?”, but, “How the hell haven’t they melted?”
All but one of their robes were red, but the last one was black. He stood tall and straight, the first one to turn in my direction. Upon seeing them, I was already psyching myself up to say something. Approaching a group of people alone was terrifying. As you can guess, Sadie and her group were the ones who ‘adopted’ me at work - I was just happy they did because I would have never gone up to them.
“Room for…room for one more?” I said with a forced smile. I was a little quiet at first, but better a little too quiet than a little too loud.
The ones in the red robes turned from me and looked at the one in black.
“Please do,” the man said. “Have you been on this trail before?”
“No, first time,” I answered.
“Be sure to stick close and conserve your energy. It is to be a long walk.”
The man in the black robes pointed towards the desert, the distant rocks, and the sparse foliage. It felt so surreal, but right. Like I had stepped into the adventure I wanted. Only, something kept throwing me off. It was the silence from such a large group.
When we started on the path, I didn’t hear anything from the people in the red robes. The only one I had heard speak up until that moment was the one in the black robes. He would speak to me every few minutes, usually to point something out, but the gaps between those moments were growing larger.
Initially, I thought he was a guide, but it became clear as he drifted into the others that he was just familiar with the trail. I was too shy to keep the conversation going, finding myself just enjoying the sights.
The range of colors was just incredible. So many people think the desert is just muted, dry colors, but there are just so many shades of light and dark. The vibrant oranges when we found ourselves in a ravine were stunning.
We followed a stream in that shallow ravine until the trail opened into the desert again. It was just in time to see the sun settle beyond the horizon.
“The sky becomes like blood,” the man in the black robes said behind me. I jumped, not at his voice, but because I thought I was at the back of the pack. I wanted to keep everyone in view. “A beautiful red, yes?”
I turned to look at him. He was looking at me. I could see his eyes, his pale skin, through the slit in the robes. It was odd to look at because his hands were dark. Another cultural thing maybe? When I had finally registered his words as a question, I stuttered in response.
“Uh, yeah,” I said, feeling a chill run down my spine. I took the hoodie out of my backpack and pulled it on. “Amazing how fast the cold comes in too, huh?”
“Yes…do you think you can make the walk back?” he asked.
“We should almost be there, so…”
“No, no, we are quite far now,” he corrected. “By night, the journey back should be quicker, five hours seems about right.”
My heart sank. I thought we had taken some turns and were just about to see the start of the trail again over the hill. Yet, looking around, I should have been able to see that distant glow of Vegas. Instead, all I saw were dark, robed figures, shambling ever onward into the desert. My water had run out, my phone had long since died and I was hungry.
My panic was stiff at first, but I began to hear it in my voice.
“Then let’s turn back,” I said.
“You can go back, we are heading somewhere else,” the man in black said.
“Is it close?”
“Very, but you won’t be able to join us…not as you are.”
He looked me up and down. I wondered if he was referring to my clothes and how I stood out amongst them, but something in those eyes showed a different kind of…disgust. It was like my entire existence didn’t fit in, not just my clothes. His tone was growing more serious and less friendly as well - he was losing patience.
At that moment, I noticed a building noise. A rumbling, which I mistook for chatter amongst the men and women in red robes, but as it grew louder, it sounded more like an uncoordinated hum. Like they were all humming a song none of them knew the lyrics too.
“Again…too late,” he murmured. “As it should be, so it is.”
“Too late?” I repeated.
“Mind where you step,” he told me. “Once your weight is on your foot, your choice is made.”
The humming had reached a breaking point in the tone. The night sky became a lot darker, and the stars and moon vanished. The midnight blue became pitch black - a surreal void. It felt like something was blocking it out of sight because that same darkness seemed to move wherever I looked.
Yet, the desert remained illuminated by some strange source of light. I could see the red robes against the pitch black, and watch as they marched across the sands. I was overwhelmed by a sense of dread, a feeling of weakness. My whole body began to ache and every effort seemed to strain my muscles and even my bones.
I knew this feeling. The one bubbling inside of me. It was many years ago when I was a child. I was coughing in bed, constantly, day after day. That weakness kept me wondering how hollow I could get. I felt as weak and flimsy as a thin plastic bag. My heart, I could feel its every beat, as if all my insides were numb and only it soldiered on.
I was waiting for it to give out.
The people in the red robes began to shed their blood-red fabric. Naked forms that began to age and decay before my eyes. A space in the inky void ahead of them opened up, a shining white door, tall and thin. The way was clear and I didn’t have it in me to walk on.
I was terrified.
“Why are you scared?” the man in the black robes asked. “What awaits you is an end to the pain. Keep walking strong.”
He placed his hand on my shoulder and guided me. The people ahead of me were growing more grotesque by the second. I had no idea what made our bodies, so I was made to watch them unmake themselves. The skin, the fat, the pus, the blood. The shades of red began to turn blue and green.
My head was burning inside. I felt dehydrated.
While my body was in a state of shock and fear, my mind was trying its best to grip reality, to steer me away. The man in the black robes seemed to sense it because he stopped walking and looked at me. With all my energy, I looked at him.
“You cannot go back now,” he told me. “Your life is with them…it is only natural to pass over to the next plane.”
I felt the heat of tears. It was just like those nights years ago. The very real fear of death. I am ashamed of it now, but I was not thinking of my loved ones, not even my family. I didn’t think of all the wrong I did, the regrets I had. When I looked into that man’s eyes, all I thought was, “Why now?”
The man seemed to sigh, but I didn’t hear the exhale. His shoulders slumped and the humming faded completely. The shambling corpses turned around to look back at me with their empty sockets.
“The dead must be laid to rest,” he said. “It is only natural. The earth will bind the body, and free the spirit.”
The man in black grabbed both my shoulders, twisted me around, and began to lay me on the ground as if I weighed nothing. I couldn’t move. I could only watch as he began to scoop the sand with his hands over me.
I heard the rumbling again, but it sounded angry. I looked up, as far as I could with my neck arched. I could see the world upside down, the white arch, and the silhouettes of the dead against that divine light. The corpses were moving closer and they radiated malice.
More tears and even a pathetic whimper.
“Hush,” the man in the black robes said. “They are not upon you yet.”
He was working fast, and only a few seconds later I could feel sand over every inch of my body. He finished by pouring the sand over my face, covering me completely. I heard the dead close in. I heard a muttering of words, then I heard his screams. I try not to imagine the pain one must feel to make those sounds.
He was still alive, but his cries grew further away as they carried him towards the white arch. I could gather this much from what I heard. As his voice faded, the rumbling ceased and strength returned to my body. I could breathe, and I was breathing in sand.
With a choking gasp, I sat up, coughing and spluttering. I noticed immediately the pink and purple hue of the sky. On my back, I felt the warmth of the morning sun. Looking all around, I saw nothing. No dead people, no man in black, no inky sky and white arch.
All the evidence I had was the blood on the sand and it trailing off before stopping completely.
*
I found a road and somebody to point me in the direction of Vegas, but they weren’t willing to give me a lift back. Luckily, after an hour or two of walking, someone else. I watched as we drove past the road leading to the yellow building where the trail began. I think I even saw Dorothy talking to a group of tourists.
When I arrived at the hotel, I dug my room key out of a sandy backpack and held it in front of the machine. It still worked and a few seconds later, I was taking a shower, trying to let the hot water bring a little more warmth to my body.
All the while, I thought about that man in the black robes.
He wasn’t a dead man, not like the others. He didn’t seem evil, but he didn’t seem sane either. No matter what conclusions I made about him, I realized that he saved my life and paid a price for it. A thought that snapped everything into place and I cried in that shower as all the feelings rushed at me at once.
I spoke about this experience with only one person - a priest. I don’t think he believed a word I said, not truly. I think he thought I was talking about a dream, or more accurately, a nightmare. Yet, he showed enough concern to say something wise and biblical about sacrifice. It wasn’t his words that convinced me to refind my faith.
It was the thought of believing in nothing when something like that happened to me. It didn’t sit right. That’s what I gained for the price that someone else paid. I pray that it is enough.