They had to get to San Ignacio Springs on this day, a mile for every day of the year. A 365-mile journey, they could do the year in a day. But the feeling in the car was strange as Manita did not know what had happened, she was only concerned with the rapidly decreasing health of Lomita. Lomita who was in shock and decay, her immune system disintegrating by the minute, exacerbated by the intensity of what had taken place. The desert landscape and its simplicity, its basic function of primal reptile life and cacti and circling birds drove a confusion, an embarrassment, into Ever’s brain; he was now realising in his conscience the reality of what had been done.

The World Heritage Site of San Ignacio with its churches and endless religious artefacts became an annoying contrast to the position that Ever and his travelling companions were in. It was like hell driving through heaven.

The beauty and the incorruptibility shouted out loud.

He couldn’t wait for the neutrality of the open road. A cactus to breathe with, not a church, not a spectre of all that was good. They decided that they could not move Lomita and stayed in the car for the night, going out to get bottled water. She wanted no food; both he and Manita were content to grab a few hours’ sleep, carry on to Loreto and then move into a hotel on their night-time arrival. They had woken early to start their drive, stopping off at a roadside food stall for a breakfast burrito. Lomita only took in the water. Although wrapped up against the cold, the damp from the night air had in no way helped Lomita’s condition and Ever felt that a big mistake had been made in their decision.

They pulled into the roadside for a stop to urinate and whatever else. Manita carried Lomita out of the car for that purpose. There was nothing else in her but water.

They took a left turn out of San Ignacio heading to Santa Rosalía and continued the drive to Loreto down the coast of the Sea of Cortez.

It was difficult to take any of it in with Lomita in the back of the car appearing unmoving, in a state of catatonia. The radio, with its threat of connection to reality, was switched off. San Bruno and Punta Chivato were passed through and by. Eventually they arrived at Loreto.

A most beautiful town but with more churches: the reminder, the continual reminder. Ever was amazed he could consume diazepam and still drive with enough focus, it just kept the edge of panic from his brain.

They took two rooms at the Oasis Hotel on the beach, it was the perfect place to get Lomita out of the car and into a room with an overhead fan. She could be cared for.

Ever needed to collapse and close down.