![]() ![]() Like with most catastrophic events, it required a series of things to go wrong for something as horrific as this to occur. In May 2001, twenty-six men crossed the border illegally and entered the corridor of unforgiving desert called The Devil’s Highway. They were drunk from having their brains baked in the pan, they were seeing God and Devils, and they were dizzy from drinking their own urine, the poisons clogging their systems.” Their hair was hard and stiffened by old sweat, standing in crowns from their scalps, old because their bodies were no longer sweating. Their eyes were cloudy with dust, almost too dry to blink up a tear. They were burned nearly black, their lips huge and cracking, what paltry drool still available to them spuming from their mouths in a salty foam as they walked. ”Five men stumbled out of the mountain pass so sunstruck they didn’t know their own names, couldn’t remember where they’d come from, had forgotten how long they’d been lost. ![]()
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