By the time Elias reached a dilapidated outpost, he wasn't alone. He encountered a group of five other survivors—the maximum party size
Miles blurred into a monochromatic haze. The landscape, stripped of its vibrancy by the midday sun, was filtered through a layer of grime on the windshield. We quickly stopped trying to wipe it away; the streaks only made the glare worse. Instead, we surrendered to the grit. It settled on the dashboard, it lined the rims of our coffee cups, and it turned our skin a shade closer to the terrain we traversed. A Dusty Trip