It was David Cianci's third consecutive week on the road and he was tired.
It was late and long, flat, empty desert stretching out before him at dusk was beautiful, but monotonous. His life for the last, was it 20 days now?, was the same. Rise early, meet and interview people all day, get back to the hotel to work out and go to bed.
Life as a documentary filmmaker offered rewards. Meeting people was interesting and putting the film together was fulfilling. But the road life could drain anyone. And here he was, 35, in the prime of his life and he was alone. His friends tried to set him up with women. That wasn't a problem for him. But the dates usually descended into simple trips back to his place, for one raucous night with little time for anything long term.
So he drove across the Arizona desert, engine nearly redlined, hoping to get to the next hotel soon.
The heat was still radiating off the sand and the windows were down. His white shirt was flapping in the wind.
When I get to the next stop I am going to have a cold beer and knock off for the night, he thought, No workout tonight. I'm bushed.
That was when he saw the flashers in the mirror.....