You’re looking down a lone road that dives ever deeper into Death Valley, California. Ahead of you lays one of the lowest (and hottest) land elevations in the entire North American continent. Behind you lay the same road, climbing out into the vast sprawling deserts of Nevada… the next stop looks like Rhyolite.
Well this is awkward.
These decent-sized creosote bushes don’t really account for a lot of shade, but it’s more comfortable than being under the vehicle.
There’s no way you could handle staying inside that thing, even with the windows down. So yeah- a nap under the biggest, shadiest bush you could find made sense considering your options. Until (and well after sunset) you woke up from your hazy fade to a snake slowly brushing by your neck.
You reflexively swipe at it but in doing so you also whack it right in the mouth. The snake’s fangs are stuck in your palm! You throw your arm in a wild arc, trying to sling the snake off. This works, but you also feel the heat from it’s venom start to throb in your wrist.
It’s pumped ever faster by your own startled heart up into your armpit, tingling. This is happening way too fast.
You immediately jump up and rush to the driver’s side door trying to escape this waking nightmare, but you feel a tingling in your neck and nausea start to take over. You stumble over the asphalt shoulder as you swing around the front of the vehicle, splaying headlong into the road itself. You can barely get your hands out to stop your fall and your head just
donks
off the asphalt like some cartoon sound effect. You note the sound well, because it seems so much louder than the blood that’s pounding through your eardrums.
What’s in a name like Death Valley, right?
Your arms feel like they aren’t yours anymore.
You taste something like metal in your mouth. Your vision begins to tunnel.
Your chest shudders. You can barely see down the road anymore…
Can’t even move… and so you wait; with a faintly sinking, almost roadkill feeling?
You can start over, if you’d like.
The town of Rhyolite looks, well… ruined.
But you’re here now, so might as well have a look around.
You can take a closer look at the ruins of the three-story tall building just ahead or check out a lone train caboose that seems to still be standing on the other side of town.
Wait… is that a sign?
This appears to be the truck that either got the most care over the years… or else it just suffered a lot less tragedy than the others.
It looks like it’s pretty decent shape, maybe it even still runs? Someone around here must be collecting these trucks, you think.
But who (and where) the hell are they? Enough trucks already; you decide to head over to the lively side of town: the Post Office.
Maybe it’s just the air around here but these ghosts remind you of some early Beastie Boys moment, frozen in time.
They seem to want you to turn around and… oh look, maybe they’re pointing to that other ghost!
Weird, how did you not see that before? And the ghost these three are pointing towards seems to have… a bicycle?
Did it just get here or something?
You gotta check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out… What-wha-what-what-what’s it all about? (RIP Adam Yauch)