They leaned against the wall, shoulder blades pressing into the cratered, decaying stucco, soiling the black t-shirts which made them distinct against the yellow-grey of their surroundings.
 Ahead of them the craqueleure vista stretched to the horizon. Part of their subconscious, disconnected from common sense by the enormity of the landscape told them that this really was the end of the earth; that they would plummet into the void if the overstepped that shimmering blue boundary.
A quickening breeze disturbed the hair of the sixth of them. His heart kept pace with the wind as he lifted a heavy-booted foot and stepped out onto the crumbling, eggshell flats.

The rest followed. They stepped out, through the wavering heat, and found what they had been looking for.