The Hotel California

Chapter Three

The sun had come and gone and now a cool breeze in the desert night replaced the scorching sun and the hot dry air of the day. There was a full moon, but still the desert was filled with dark and eerie looking shadows. Cliff wandered away from the hotel, but he made sure to stay on the dirt road that led to the highway, He didn't want to get lost out in the darkness of the unforgiving desert night. As he continued to walk up the road toward the crest of the hill, he could hear the eerie sounds of the night, and he knew that if it weren't for the moonlight, he would easily stray from the road. He could hear the faint howling of coyotes, and when he looked up he could see bats hunting for insects. He was glad that he had taken the revolver from Will, and now he held it tightly in his hand. As he reached the crest of the hill, he turned and looked down at the old hotel. The only thing he could see from this distance was the dim porch light. It was then that he suddenly knew he had gone far enough and should return to safety. He suddenly noticed the scent of tobacco burning in the cool night breeze, and when he turned he saw the red tip of a cigarette. He watched as it silently fell to the road and was smothered out.

"Who's out there?" he almost shouted.

There was no reply.

Cliff raised the flashlight and aimed the beam where he had seen the cigarette fall. As the light fell upon the man's face, Cliff saw that it was the old Indian he'd met on the highway earlier that day. "What are you doing out here?" he asked.

Without a word, the old man took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one of the cigarettes from the pack, and lit it with a wooden match he struck against his dirty old jeans. He took a deep drag from the cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. Finally he spoke. "You shouldn't be out here at night."

"Don't worry," Cliff said. "I have this." He raised the revolver so that the old man could see he was armed. The Indian glanced at the gun and chuckled. "That's not going to help you much out here," he said. "You wouldn't even see it before you had a chance to use that, and even if you could see it, that little gun wouldn't do you any good. You can't kill what you can't see, and you can't kill what's already dead."

"See what?" Cliff asked. "What are you talking about?"

The old Indian took another long drag from his cigarette.

"I told you. No matter what, don't turn of the highway." Cliff pointed down to the hotel. "Why didn't you tell us about this place?"

"There is evil here. That's the Devil's playground."

"What in the hell are you talking about, old man?"

"Did you sign the hotel register?" the old Indian asked.

"What does that have to do with anything?" "Did you sign your name in their hotel register?" he asked again.

"Yes. Well, no, I didn't, but my wife did."

"Have you noticed any change in her?" the old man asked.

"Anything at all?"

Cliff hesitated for a minute before he replied. Yes, he said to himself, Sara had changed, but he liked and desired the change that had come over his wife. "No!" he said aloud. He knew he was lying and he could tell that the old Indian knew he was lying.

"You must take that pretty wife of yours away from this place," the Indian said. "In the morning. Before it's too late."

"This is crazy, old man. You're talking about something that can't be real."

"It maybe already too late for your wife," the old man said, not sounding crazy at all, "but to save your own soul, you must leave this place as soon as possible, with or without your wife. Remember, whatever you do, don't let them get you to sign register book, or they'll have your soul, too. Cliff looked down at the hotel again. "Old man," he said,

"I think the only weird and crazy thing around here is you."

When Cliff turned to face the old man again, the scent of burning tobacco had disappeared and so had the old Indian. He had vanished into the desert, just as he had done on the highway earlier that day.

Cliff realized now that he had walked and strayed too far from the hotel, and now he could clearly hear the loud yipping and howling of the coyotes that had drawn near. With every step he took they seemed to come even closer to him. He tightened his grip on the revolver and began to walk faster towards the dim light of the hotel.

Before the howling coyotes surrounded him, he began to catch glimpses of their red eyes reflecting in the beam of his flashlight. He picked up his pace, wishing now that he had taken Will and Becky's advice and not left the hotel. Suddenly he knew he was in deep trouble. What if he couldn't make it back to the hotel alive? If the coyotes got any closer, he would have to make a run for his life. He walked at a very fast pace for another hundred yards. Suddenly the road to safety was blocked by three growling, hungry coyotes. He knew they wanted his blood. They wanted to feast upon his raw flesh.

He stopped and, his hand trembling, raised the revolver and took aim at the largest of the three bloodthirsty, teeth-baring beasts. But when he pulled the trigger, the only sound that he heard was the firing pin clicking into an empty chamber. Frantically, he pulled the trigger again and again. It continued to fire into the revolver's empty chambers. The leader of the pack of coyotes took another step toward him. It growled and bared his long, sharp, ripping teeth. Cliff realized that they had encircled him. He knew he was dead if he stayed there. His only chance was to run for his life out into desert hills behind the old hotel.

He tucked the useless revolver into his pants, gripped the flashlight harder, and ran off the road, yelling and screening like a madman. The noise and movement startled the coyotes only for a brief moment, but at least he had broken through their deadly ring. The pack quickly gathered and followed their leader after their prey.

Running for his life, Cliff could hear and feel the pounding of his heart, which he was sure, was going to leap out from his chest. He could hear the cries of the hungry coyotes just behind him. He knew they would catch up to him and rip his flesh apart.

Suddenly, and without any warning, he fell, his face driven into the desert sand. Something had reached up from the desert floor and grabbed this leg! His first thought was that the coyotes had overtaken him. He felt pain in his leg as he rolled over and wiped the sand from his face. That's when he saw the barbed wire wrapped around his ankle. It had trapped him. The barbed wire had stopped his escape from the pack of coyotes. The wire spurs had torn deep into his leg and he could feel blood flowing down his leg.

Frantically, he tried to free himself from the wire. The pain was almost unbearable, but he forced himself to pull and tug at the wire while the spurs cut and ripped his hands. He had almost freed his leg when he looked up. The pack of coyotes had found him again. They were going crazy from the smell of Cliff's blood and pacing back and forth, waiting for their leader to lead their attack.

Then Cliff saw the white wolf appear from out of nowhere.