Death Valley

The Mojave sun was blazing and the air was filled with the heaviness of a running oven in a Summer heat wave. Each second draining more sweat from their boiling bodies trying to acclimate to the intense heat. Their black shirts turned white with the salt of the instantaneously evaporated sweat. The car had broken down a good amount of miles after having passed the Death Valley official entry on the 190 heading towards Stovepipe Wells. They had not shut off the air conditioning in time which had probably caused the engine to overheat. Even though they had stocked the trunk with several gallons of water, there was no way they could carry such heavy bottles along with them. They had absolutely no signal on their phones, nada, so they had no choice but to start walking towards the hotel. Although the GPS had announced only three miles, three miles in such conditions seemed quite arduous. Neither of them talked as they were too busy fighting with their own bodies to gather enough strength to keep going. The tar covering the road pulled the soles of their shoes back towards it each time they lifted their feet off the ground to take another step. The tar itself was melting in the scorching midday sun. As they looked out into the distance they could only make out haze and sun dancing together forming a densely blurred horizon.

It had now been an hour since they had been walking and not a soul had passed them by. It felt like they were walking up the opposite way on a moving walkway. Not even the sweat could cool them down as it dried out the moment it escaped their pores. They stopped to drink every five minutes, tiny sip by tiny sip to keep enough water.

The three miles seemed awfully endless but the GPS had been playing tricks on them the entire way. It was early afternoon and the sun was high and strong. The heat covered the ground like a huge soft blanket. Mary's hair was dry and salty just like a day at the beach. Her skin was burning and the black tank top, now white, did not protect her arms nor her chest and she could feel her lips starting to chap, with that incessant twitch on her upper lip relentlessly banging. She innerly cussed at herself for having said she'd wanted to drive through the deadliest Valley of North America. She had been stressed the entire way since they had left the main highway following the GPS through lonely desert roads all the way to the 190. It felt like a good idea to flatter her adventurous side which turned out to be quite the contrary. She was the city-type adventurous not the middle of a hostile desert type one. Ben, on the other hand, seemed unchanged. He, who she had depicted as attached to his comfort zone, was coolly dealing with their predicament. She hid her anguish the best she could so he could not guess it and throw it back at her slickly in another situation.

"Almost there!" Ben's voice broke through her string of heated thoughts.

She strained her eyes to see through the haze and managed to make out what looked like an old rusted red truck. The truck she had seen on the hotel's website.

As they approached and the blur lifted, the truck became clearer and they made out the hotel lobby sign. As they walked in, the freezing air greeted them ruthlessly. By the look on receptionist's face as they walked in they quickly deduced the strenuous desert walk had physically taken it's toll on them.

"Our car broke down a few miles down." Ben broke her silent jaw-opened stare.

"Oh, I see, that's terrible. Please, sit down I'll fetch you something to drink and to nibble on. Are you feeling alright? No dizziness?" she inquired as she got busy getting us what she had promised.

"No, just tired. It's quite a tough walk with those temperatures." Ben continued.

Mary did not find the energy to talk and her mouth felt like a sandbox. The lady came back with two blankets which turned out to be a relief as the cool air was not as welcoming as one would have imagined. She also handed them a cup of warm exceedingly sweetened lemon tea each.