"So, what's the plan?" Markus leaned against the crumbling brick wall, his eyes scanning the horizon as the city skyline grew hazier by the minute.
"We need to keep moving," June replied, her voice tight with tension. "Find somewhere safe before..."
Her words trailed off as the distant sound of sirens pierced the air, growing louder by the second. The two friends had known each other since childhood, and in the face of the world's end, their bond had only grown stronger. They had survived this long by trusting their instincts and each other.
"The angels are getting closer," Markus murmured, his grip tightening on the worn leather handle of his makeshift spear. The once gleaming steel was now dulled with the grime of a hundred battles.
June nodded, her eyes darting to the duffle bag slung over her shoulder. Inside, she had packed their meager supplies – a few cans of food, a water filter, and a map that was now mostly obsolete. "We can't outrun them forever," she said, her voice quivering slightly.
Markus knew she was right. The angels had been methodical in their purge, sweeping through cities and towns with a brutal efficiency that defied human understanding. They had seen their fair share of the carnage, had heard the wails of the dying and the cries of those begging for mercy that never came.
"We've got to find the others," he said, pushing himself off the wall. "They'll know what to do."
They set off at a brisk pace, their footsteps echoing through the deserted streets. The once bustling city was now a ghost town, littered with the remnants of a civilization that had lost its way. The buildings, once proud and gleaming, now stood as silent sentinels of the destruction that had come to pass.
The sirens grew closer, a cacophony of wails that sent a shiver down Markus' spine. He had never seen the angels up close, only heard the stories of their terrifying beauty and the swiftness of their judgement. June had described them to him once, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and horror. The thought of facing them now filled him with dread.
They turned a corner and saw a group of survivors huddled together, their faces etched with fear and desperation. A man with a makeshift bandana over his mouth stepped forward, a shotgun in his trembling hands.
"Who are you?" he barked.
Markus and June shared a quick look. They had encountered other survivors before, but trust was a commodity in short supply these days. "We're just looking for a safe place," Markus called out, raising his spear slightly in a peaceful gesture.
The man studied them for a moment before lowering his gun. "You're not with them?"
"With who?" June asked, her eyes narrowing.
The man jerked his head towards the sky, where the silhouettes of the angels could be seen, gliding on wings of light amidst the ash clouds. "God's army. They're wiping us out."
"We're just trying to survive," Markus said, his voice steady.
