Creative Prompt: Inverted Apocalyptic Fiction (Introduction)

The Nevada desert spread out around them unendingly, a brown so washed out by the sun that it approached grey. To make matters worse, it was August. Andrew couldn’t have been more out of his environment. The dry air blasted through the car loudly enough to make conversation all but impossible, which was a shame, because Anne might have been able to cheer him up. But to close the windows would convert their black Land Rover into a portable hell; the air conditioning had been broken for years. There had been no need to fix it in Sacramento. They lived adjacent to the university where Andrew worked and they only went to the store at night. Humid, warm California nights. At the beautiful Victorian home they might never see again. He scowled with renewed revulsion at the desert. They couldn’t drive through fast enough.