"It's just like Phil Ochs says, man. I Ain't Marchin' Anymore. If we take a stand the suits and ties have to listen. That whole mess out East will be over..." Joey snapped his fingers. "Just like that." He warmed his hands against the campfire, a fragile man wrapped in a Navajo blanket, his long hair blown by the chill desert breeze.

"I hear what you're saying. A million kids talking with one voice. They have to listen." Greene was distracted by the tin of doings in his lap, eager for the moment to come. He was bigger and broader than his friend and didn't feel the night cold so easily.

They grew silent as they fell in tune with the Mojave night around them. Unobscured by the pollution of city light, the universe was spread out across the sky in a wash of brilliant stars. They both lay back on their bedrolls and took it in, feeling the wonder rise within them. They'd come a long way from suburban streets, filled with big ideas of politics and transcendence, and the best lay ahead, a way down the road, up the West Coast, in San Francisco, where times were a-changin' faster than anywhere else.

"This is what it's all about, man," Joey said gently.

The campfire crackled loudly, the only beacon of earthly light in the sea of shadows that lapped across the desert landscape.

"You ready?" Greene said, his mouth dry. Joey nodded. Greene placed the tin between them and they both took the peyote, swallowing it quickly to avoid the bitter aftertaste.

"We're on a big trip. The biggest," Greene said, content at last. The stars made his spirit come alive. "Lying on a ball of rock, flying through space and time.”

"This is our time." Joey's dreamy voice had the insistence of unshakeable belief. "1967 - Year Zero. The suits and ties have had things their way for too long, and look at the mess they've made. We're on the edge of something amazing ... something that will change everything."

"You know," Greene mused, "I heard the chicks up in Frisco are hot for it all the time. Free love, man, the way God intended."

He could feel his brain swimming as the peyote kicked in, the thunderous surge of his blood washing him into another place.

"The stars, man," Joey whispered. "Look at the stars."

There was a sound like an over-inflated balloon bursting and then a howling wind blasted into them, whipping the campfire up into a wild blaze. They jumped to their feet, cursing ferociously and covering their faces from the burning needles of dust.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Greene raged when the gale had subsided a few seconds later.

"Freak storm, man. Happens all the time." Joey didn't sound very convincing.

The peyote was making them paranoid; they knew the signs and struggled to contain it. Greene's mouth was as dry as the gritty sand, and he took a swig from the canteen.

"Am I seeing that," Joey whispered, "or is it the start of the trip?"

Greene followed his pointing finger into the night. In the distance, there was a flurry of light, like golden snowflakes, or fireflies dancing; they were transfixed by its beauty.

"Wow,” Joey said. "Am I seeing it?"

"You're seeing it."

The lights changed gradually before their eyes, taking on brilliant colours, swirling around until they formed a mandala.

"Maybe it's the telepathy, man." Joey's voice was an awed rustle. "Maybe this is the trip, but we're sharing it. Maybe we've broken the barrier.”

"Yeah," Greene replied. "It's like that chick told me ... you take peyote in the right time, the right place, you can see God."

"God," Joey repeated in wonder. "Wow."

The mandala broke up in sparkles, and then the little iridescent dots began to move slowly towards them.

Suddenly the sky was alive with beams of brilliant bright light, as hard and threatening as the other magical glimmering was comforting. A roaring noise rose up above the distant mountains, echoing off the rock to flood the plain.

"What's that?" Greene yelled. He jumped to his feet and ran to the perimeter of the campfire light to peer anxiously into the night. "What is it? What's happening?"

"Stay cool, man," Joey said. "Don't freak. It's just...it's just..." He was caught again by the approaching spots of coloured illumination, only now he thought he could see a face in the shapes made by their dance. Eyes, then gone. A mouth, roaring silently, filled with fury, fading. And horns...

"It's the Devil." Cold rushed along his limbs to his heart.

"What's going on?" Greene screamed as he hurtled around the edge of the campsite, raging at the heavenly display of lights and noise descending on them. The dust whipped up in eddies.

Joey stood. He wanted to run, but the Devil had him in its grasp. The colours had become more brilliant, changing rapidly, mesmerising. The face was fully formed now, and he was in no doubt of who it was. Serpents and huge leathery wings beating the night sky, blazing red coals and the sickening smell of decay. The world was folding up around him.

Greene stood to face the rising wind, infused with the stink of fuel. He had a sudden impression of an enormous bird of prey high overhead, fixing its cold gaze upon him. Spinning round to tell his friend they had to flee for their lives, he was shocked to see Joey was already gone. The moment of realisation seemed to last for an eternity until the sickening scream tore across the desolate landscape.

"Joey!" Greene yelled in reply. He was filled with a dread from which he knew he would never recover. "It's just a bad trip," he tried to tell himself futilely.

And then Joey staggered back into the firelight and Greene knew it was all over; for them, for the world. Joey was still screaming. His skin had disappeared to reveal the complex net of the pulmonary system and muscles, and as Greene watched that too started to fade until all that remained was a screaming skeleton, tearing at the bone of its skull.

It was the last sight he saw. Somewhere there was the crack of a rifle. But Greene didn't have time to register it before the bullet burst through his head and out of the spot where the tripping chick had once told him the Third Eye would open.

And then the wind descended, and the dust rose up in fury, and a chaos of light flooded over all.

Mark Chadbourn