August 1999 was supposed to be a victory lap. David Coughlin and Raffi Kodikian were best friends, the kind of guys who didn’t need a plan because they had each other. David was 26, headed to graduate school in California. Raffi was 25, an aspiring writer with a bit of a Jack Kerouac streak. They loaded up the car in Boston and drove west, chasing that classic American rite of passage. But things went south—literally and figuratively—when they decided to pull over at Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico for a quick overnight hike.
The death of David Coughlin didn't happen because of a mountain lion or a fall. It happened because of a terrifyingly common series of small, human mistakes that spiraled into a nightmare.
Most people think of the desert as a place where you get lost for weeks. But these two were barely a mile and a half from their car. They weren't in the middle of nowhere; they were practically in the backyard of the park's visitor center. Yet, in less than four days, one friend was dead by the other's hand, buried under a pile of desert rocks.
The Wrong Turn in Rattlesnake Canyon
It’s easy to judge from an air-conditioned living room. Honestly, you've probably looked at a map and thought, "How could they get lost?" But the New Mexico desert is a master of deception. Everything looks the same. Every cactus, every ridge, every dry wash starts to blend into a monochromatic haze of brown and orange when the sun is beating down at 100 degrees.
They started their hike on August 4. They brought three pints of water. Just three.
If you know anything about desert hiking, you know that’s basically a suicide mission. The National Park Service usually recommends a gallon per person, per day. These guys used a chunk of their limited supply that first night just to boil hot dogs. By Thursday morning, the water was gone. They tried to find the trailhead to get back to their car, but they couldn't find the cairns—those little stacks of rocks that mark the path.
They wandered. They got turned around. The heat started to cook their logic.
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Dehydration and the "Mercy" Pact
By the third day, things were grim. You’ve probably heard stories about people drinking their own urine or licking rocks to catch a hint of moisture. They did all of that. They even ate cactus fruit, which they thought might save them. It didn't. In fact, experts later suggested the fruit was unripe and actually made David violently ill, causing him to vomit and lose what little hydration he had left.
The death of David Coughlin began to feel inevitable to the two men. They weren't thinking like rational adults anymore.
Raffi's journal, which later became a haunting piece of evidence, tracked their descent into despair. He wrote about the "St. Nicholas" (rescue) that never came. He wrote about how they were planning to die. At some point, the two allegedly made a pact. If they weren't going to make it out, they didn't want to suffer.
According to Raffi's testimony, on the morning of August 8, David turned to him and begged him to end it. He was in agony. He was vomiting mucus and blood. Raffi took a four-inch folding knife and stabbed his best friend twice in the chest.
He then buried David under a pile of rocks and waited to die himself.
The Discovery and the Shocking Reality
When Park Ranger Lance Mattson found Raffi later that day, he wasn't looking for a crime scene. He saw a man huddled under a tarp, barely moving. Raffi's first words weren't "Help me" or "Save Dave." They were, "I killed him."
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Here is where the story gets really complicated.
Investigators found the campsite was only 240 feet from a main trail. If they had walked just a little bit further, or climbed a slightly different ridge, they would have seen the road. Even more jarring was the medical evidence.
While the death of David Coughlin was caused by the stabbing, the autopsy showed that David was "moderately to severely dehydrated," but he wasn't necessarily at death's door. Experts argued that he likely could have survived another day or two—long enough for the rangers to find him alive.
The prosecution’s argument was simple: Raffi wasn't a hero or a "mercy killer." He was a man who gave up too soon. They pointed out that Raffi had enough strength to move 70-pound rocks to bury David. If he could move rocks, why couldn't he move toward the trail?
The Legal Fallout
Raffi Kodikian was charged with second-degree murder. The case became a national sensation because it forced people to ask a gut-wrenching question: What would you do if your best friend begged you to kill them in a moment of extreme trauma?
The defense tried a unique angle called "involuntary intoxication." They argued that the dehydration had physically altered Raffi's brain chemistry, making him essentially "drunk" and incapable of making a rational choice.
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The judge didn't totally buy it, but he was lenient. In 2000, Raffi pleaded no contest. He was sentenced to 15 years, but the judge suspended all but two. He ended up serving about 16 months in a New Mexico prison.
The most surprising part? David’s family didn't want Raffi to rot in a cell. They released a statement saying they didn't believe there was "malicious intent." They knew the two were inseparable friends. They saw it as a tragedy, not a murder.
Lessons from Rattlesnake Canyon
We talk about the death of David Coughlin because it’s a terrifying reminder of how quickly "adventure" turns into "survival." These weren't reckless kids; they were educated young men who simply didn't respect the environment they were entering.
If you’re planning a trip into the backcountry, the "mercy killing" case offers a few brutal, actionable takeaways that go beyond the usual "bring water" advice:
- Trust the Map, Not Your Gut: Dehydration causes a specific kind of "looping" logic where you become convinced the trail is "just over that hill" even when the map says otherwise. If you are lost, stop moving.
- The 1-Gallon Rule is a Minimum: In 100-degree heat, you lose a liter of water an hour just through sweat. Three pints for two people for multiple days is mathematically impossible for survival.
- The S.O.S. Signal: Raffi and David tried to make an S.O.S. out of rocks, but it was too small to be seen from the air. If you're signaling, you need high-contrast materials and massive scale.
- Mental Fortitude: The "feedback loop" between the two friends was their undoing. They fed each other's hopelessness. In survival situations, the person who stays calm usually lives.
The case remains one of the most debated "mercy killings" in American history. It wasn't a crime of passion or greed. It was a crime of exhaustion, heatstroke, and a devastating lack of preparation.
To stay safe in the desert, always carry a satellite messenger like a Garmin inReach, which wasn't an option for David back in 1999. It allows you to hit an S.O.S. button that alerts search and rescue via GPS, removing the guesswork and the "death pacts" that arise from pure desperation.