It’s hard driving in the desert at night. You can’t tell where the road is. Maybe there isn’t even a road. I can only see about ten feet.
Even without a body in the trunk, there’s a sense of desperation in the desert. I think it comes from knowing that if one of the million moving pieces in this car stopped working, I’d be stuck with no help. I keep expecting a flash of movement in the headlights, like a deer out of nowhere. Your mind plays tricks out here.
How far into the desert does one need to drive to bury a body? When you see it in the movies, it seems so easy–like there’s a GPS location “middle of nowhere body burying site.” Real life never works like the movies. Someone should write a “Burying A Body In The Desert For Dummies” book. I could use that now.
This is far enough I think. I’ve got a lantern, a pick and a shovel. Let’s do this.
Damn, this ground is hard. I’m glad I brought the pick.
The pick isn’t budging it. Try another spot.
What the hell am I supposed to do? Digging a hole in this wasteland isn’t as easy as it seems. Well, I’ve got all night. A little at a time will get the job done.