It’s around 11 a.m. on an already blistering late spring day. The heat radiates off the pavement as a three-SUV caravan travels down a busy main drag in East Las Vegas.
It isn’t long before a man, who looks to be in his 30s, appears through the windshield on the side of the road. He looks to have slumped over unnaturally, mid-bicycle pedal stroke. He stands eerily bent in the settling dust, frozen and unaware of the cars whizzing by him.
One of the SUVs pulls over immediately. Snacks, water bottles, and a box of Narcan are pushed into the slack arms of the man, who’s slowly becoming more upright and alert…