He stayed in the entryway, listening with his ear to the door for the sound of the final door on the floor close. And once he heard it, he slipped out, quietly, walking out the front doors of the hotel, walking west, away from the city and far into the Texan desert.
He walked, and walked, and walked, until his feet were blistered, rubbing against his age-appropriate New Balance trainers. He kept walking, as his hamstrings cramped, and thirst captured his throat.
He walked until he no longer could, dropping to his knees as the barrel cacti bore silent witness to his pilgrimage. He began to crawl slowly forward in the darkness, mindless, until he found that he could no longer crawl, either, collapsing under the stars – alone.
Using all of his energy, he sat back up onto his heels, breathing heavily. He felt his forearms and shoulders cramping as he retrieved the impossibly-heavy, impossibly black knife from his pocket. He hesitated, only slightly, before pricking his finger, letting a single drop of blood fall to the desert floor.