The tires skidded on the dirt, losing traction. Hitting a bump, the jeep leaped into the air, and I felt the air crushed out of my body as I wrestled with the steering wheel, trying to regain control. The wheels clipped the edge of the road and ran onto the surrounding sand, spinning wildly. I barely felt the machine turning, forming a perverse arc through the air. My limbs spiralled into dangling shapes as I was thrown free from the cab. I remember seeing the rise of a giant sand dune in front of me, and then everything snapped into an empty nothingness.

I awoke, and it was night. Without the moon, the open, star-filled sky above shed very little light around me, so I just lay on my back for a while, trying to figure out how much I had broken. I still hadn't come to terms with the enormity of my situation, and just lay, posturing about whether I had broken my back. I strained to lift my arms, found my balance and pulled myself up. My head was swimming, and ached with the kind of pain I hadn't felt since my drinking days, but apart from that, I felt surprisingly well. I looked around in the darkness, trying to pick out my bearings. I thought I could see the gleam of metal in the near distance, and walked over to what I presumed would be my jeep. It should have been my jeep, it had been my jeep when I had left it, but now it was a twisted heap of junk metal, deeply blackened by the burnt-out fuel tank. Panic, at this point a dull hum in the background, began to rise slowly inside me. I edged my way around to the back, and there on the open ledge were the charred remains of the large water tank I always kept in case of emergency. The radio was gone. I was at least an hour's ride out of Palmerson on a back road rarely used. The dull thud of my heart quickly joined with my now roaring panic, a cacophony that made me sway on my feet more than the dizziness in my head. I looked for Venus in the sky, and it had already gone. It was at least three hours after darkness had fallen, and if the burning wreck had been spotted, the recovery crews would have been here before I'd even woken up. No one knew I was gone, no one expected me back. I was, in a moment, alone. I would break the first rule, the first law of survival in the desert. I was going to leave my vehicle, and head out along the desert track.

I had walked for hours, my legs tired and aching, but I knew I had to set a fast pace, if I was going to survive my journey. The heat of the desert was not unbearable at this time of year, unlike in the midst of summer, but it burned unmercifully. Without water, if I found shade, I might survive a couple of days. Enough, if I kept to this pace, to get back to civilisation during the nights. I watched the sky lighten from black to deep blue, and then soften as the sun raced towards the horizon. In the gathering light, I could make out the broken landscape. The dunes were more separated here, and interspersed with low plains, covered in rocks. I saw a few with tilting outcrops, but nothing I felt I could squeeze my entire body under.

The sky was a pretty light blue, and the yellow blaze was nearly upon me when I finally found a more suitable set of rocks, rising high above the surrounding landscape. The wind had hollowed out a space in one of them, recessing back into the centre, in such a way I could squeeze myself inside, and the surrounding rocks would keep me well shaded throughout the day. Tired, and feeling weak, I slumped against the hard rock, and felt numb. The rays of the sun rose gently into the sky, throwing sharp shadows across the landscape around me. I closed my eyes to help me think, and thoughtlessly drifted off to sleep.

I remember the heat, despite the shade. The glowering hot sun scorched the dry ground around me, which in turn radiated back out. The surface shimmered in the haze. I remember thirst, and hunger, but I remember little else – the time passing indistinctly, as I faded in and out of consciousness. The rock was hard, but strangely comforting, the towering pillars surrounding me feeling like guardians against a violent sun. Eventually the sun began to set, and, while the earth was still warm, the air at least began to cool off.

I knew I had to get up, and get moving. The closer I got to the town, the higher the chances of finding someone. A second day in the heat would tire me completely, and I wondered if there would be the same shade to protect me. I ached all over, but pulled myself into a walk, and forced myself onward. Again, within the full darkness of the night, it was hard to find my way; I trudged on, following the road as best I could. The dry air caught thick in my lungs, as the tiredness seemed to compound upon me. It felt like I was swallowing water sometimes. I could hear the wind, as it blew across the open plains, and thought I heard the cries of animals lost within it.

My feet were sore by this point, blistered and tired from my relentless forced march. Several times, I felt myself slipping into sleep, and had to wake myself up, trying to keep as alert as possible. I still heard what I thought sounded like hyenas in the distance. It made no sense, because there were no hyenas in this region. I wiped my eyes, breathed deeply, and walked on.

I woke up, still on my feet, as I stumbled forwards. I had wandered to the edge of the road, and tripped as the ground dropped away. I shook myself, and stretched out, trying to relieve the aching in my limbs. I had no idea what time it was, but I felt tired, my stomach ached with the pain of thirst, and my lips were cracked dry. My eyes picked out the road, and I started up again, trying to follow it, hoping I was going in the right direction, but too tired to care to check. In the distance, the sky glowed, and it looked like the town was near, but then, if felt like everything glowed, despite the darkness. My eyes were salty, and I felt my heart beat in time with my blinking. Then I could hear them again, their laughing goading me. I closed my eyes and pushed my spirit onwards, feeling the laughter turn to a muted cheer. I walked on, trying to ignore them, trying to keep within myself, hoping they would stop. And so it went, as we marched on together, towards the sun, the rising sun ahead of me, the black sky turning blue, and the landscape stretching out into the light. There were trees, and great outcrops, and scented flowers, and in the distance I could see a great lake that would quench a thousand thirsts. But the sun was coming, the hated, burning one. I could feel its fire already heating the edges around me, and I knew that I would have to wait to drink my fill. I scanned around, and tried to find a place to hide. I stumbled out from the road, towards a great tree, which turned into a large rock when I got closer. I ran my hands over its warm skin, trying to find its pulse, but it seemed dead. I circled it, and found it was just the tail of a great beast, with the rock jutting high from its thickset backbones. I was on my hands and knees, crawling along, and I found a hollow, a dark place recessed inwards. It felt cool to the touch, shaded from the growing sun. I pulled myself inside, holding myself in a tight bundle, and stared out at the brightening landscape.

The whispering awoke me. They were standing in a circle, at the mouth of the cave. They were short, and dark, not so much tanned by the sun as coloured by their malcontent. Their faces were child-like, but their eyes held a deeper power, burning with what I took as evil. I pulled back further, crushing myself against the inner wall, still cool despite the heat outside. But they each looked at me like I was a hurt animal, something to be pitied and cared for, not with the torment I thought they intended. They smiled, and it felt as though the air sang. It felt like nectar, washing my body, sustaining, and rejuvenating. These were no ordinary angels; they were the nameless ones, the higher echelons of cherubim. I had never studied my faith, and had often never really believed, but here was solid truth, as undeniable, as impassable, as the rock walls behind me.

I felt awe, stunned into subservience by their great good. I felt the purity of their silence wash the dirt from my skin, and at the same time felt the stubborn grime of my sins stick to my ribs, refusing to relinquish its hold from me. I felt like the rotting mould to their freshest fruit, as if I could in some way soil their innocence. They leant forwards, holding out their hands, beckoning me to join them.

I strained against my body, but it refused to be moved, paralysed by their presence. Instead, they took one another's hands, and raised their gaze to the blazing sun. They grew white, until they glowed, and the brilliance of their brightness faded all the shadows from where I lay; it turned the ground from brown to yellow, and then to white. Everything was swimming in the dazzling whiteness, so that nothing was real, except for what the heaven's cry had imparted upon it. Their presence faded, but the whiteness remained, sheer and painful.

My head screamed with unbearable static, my tongue bulging huge in my mouth. The light outside was fading, the deep hues of blue mellow against the sharp edges of my agony. I clenched my teeth, trying to pull my thoughts away from the pain. I looked around my refuge, a holy place now. It showed no signs of the revelations from the day past. I ran my hands over the cave walls, looking for something that would reveal a message, some consecrated instruction to my faith. It was nothing but a dark, cool rock. I felt a great weight of sadness, and knew that I should not leave the cave, because I had been touched here by the divine.

I started a vigil, breathing slower and attempting to calm my heart rate. I had felt the holiest touch upon myself, and it had inspired me to seek some form of absolution, an attempt to purify my dirt-ridden soul. I still felt my own disgust at my imperfections, so glaring in contrast with the beauty of the white spirit of heaven's messengers. The pain that cut through me, my thirst, my growing hunger, they all revolted me. The only way to attain the purity I had envisioned was to defeat my bodily urges, and harmonise with my spirit. I crushed myself against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut, desperate to shut out the corporeal world. I felt my wavering breath against my arm, and tried again and again to stop breathing, to leave no mark on the imperfect world. My body, ridden with imperfections, refused to relent to the demands of my soul.

As the sun set, the familiar darkness gathered in. I sat in the coolness, tears welling in my strained eyes. I had been touched, but that unattainable perfection was a curse, and as the light faded and failed, so did my hope. I had been visited by the heavenly, and left alone. I drew my knees up against myself, staring out at the ground outside. The pain gnawed at me, and demanded that I turn from perfection, and I hated myself for it. If I could settle myself in this place, release myself from the bonds tying me to the darkness of the cave, I would ascend to the holiest of places, I knew it as if it were my very being. I had tried to let go, and I had failed. Instead, guilt-ridden and lost, I was forced back into my pain, my hunger, and beyond all, my thirst. I would leave my sanctuary, walk away from this holy ground, and survive as best I could in the faithless world beyond.

In the darkness, I pulled myself along, sometimes managing to stand, sometimes having to crawl. The cool air brought some relief from the stuffiness of the air during the day. I felt exhausted, my legs being forced along by my failing will, and a desperation not to fail. The shame was fading into shadows, along with all other thought, and I became a walking machine, one foot in front of the other. It was in this walk I think I first found atonement. I had nothing left, which meant I had nothing left to give. I lost everything to the need to survive. I walked on for hours, my eyes often closed.

I stumbled, and fell. I thought that it was my legs finally giving out, but felt I could still move them, and realised that I must have tripped. I felt around, and my hands touched water, running cold and fast. There are no streams in the desert, and I thought myself falling into deeper hallucinations, but the water was wet, and when I plunged my face into it, it ran through my hair, and chilled me. I gasped as I gulped deep drafts of the water. It tasted bitter with dirt, but I drank on, washing my inner impurities away. I had found, at last, some kind of wholesomeness, however base. My mind made some connection: close to town, the farmers would run water through sluices to irrigate their crops. The water still ran over me, as I lowered myself into it fully. Whether I had turned away from the very doors of heaven, or simply pushed beyond some delirium, I had chosen my path, and had finally completed my journey. The dawn was coming, and I had made it home.