I see another SUV
(pickup truck, minivan, whatever
) and I wave it down. It's a guy in his 50's. Dressed like a rancher. I tell him about the not-yet-dead guy. I describe his location, what he's wearing, what's in his backpack. I tell him about the lady in the other SUV/minivan. I tell him about the slice of pizza. That we left him water. The guy in the pick-up is extremely nonchalant. Tells us that people live off that road, that he probably belongs to one of them. Speculates that someone will probably be along to fetch him before long.
He starts asking me about our trip, did we ride these bikes all the way from New York, how do we like Arizona? etc.
"So, I think the guy needs some help."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, I don't think anyone lasts very long out there in the heat and the sun."
He pauses for emphasis. "We do."
I am silent. He stares at me. I stare at him. He looks ahead up the road through his windshield.
"How far up ahead is he?"
"About 2 miles. On the left."
He pulls away.
I felt like I was in a Hal Hartley film. I don't know how else to describe it.