If there is something comforting in this hellish heat, it is that at night the temperature, as it should be in the desert, dropped to almost freezing — a sharp contrast, to put it mildly, but this is what allowed them to at least at night escape from overheating, preventing the blood from boiling in their bodies.

Miles watches the landscape; it has become way more easier to breathe without the suffocating heat weighing down on them. He turns to look at Paz; the wind ruffles her hair, shifting the strands from her temples and forehead. Miles smiles at her as she looks up at the sky. Now, there are only stars over their heads, no trace of the sun, and the evening is approaching rapidly.

All of them still feel a little sleepy out of unusualness — they had to switch to a nocturnal lifestyle, because it was completely impossible to move or do anything during the day and, moreover, dangerous due to the high chance of overheating.

Miles stands there, looking out at the hills through their small house’s window, letting the cold, cool air fill his lungs. When he turns his head slightly to the left, he sees the last remnants of the setting sun over the hills surrounding them, which cast long, deep shadows over the soil. The sky over their heads is the color of fresh blood, slowly turning black as the night begins to thicken, and the first stars appear in the evening sky, blinking and glistening like precious stones.