The night brought a darkness so oppressive that it seemed as if the city had become nothing more than an abyss of death and destruction. 

Everywhere Michael and I looked, a scorching hellscape revealed itself. The whole city was alight in devastation, a hellscape that blazed up to the heavens and burned the night sky to a cinder. An endless sea of flames devoured the remains of buildings, their collapsing shells spewing out volatile smoke and the noxious stench of evaporated metal and burning flesh.

The roads were deserted save for the occasional moments when a spark from a downed powerline lit up the night with its fierce electricity, jumping and hissing angrily before fading away. The sky was pitch black and smoke shrouded the moon, leaving us to be guided to our destination by an eerie firelight.

Smoke choked the air and seared my throat raw. Jets and helicopters lay twisted and blackened in the streets and the side of buildings, their twisted metal guts screaming out with gouts of white-hot fire as their fuel reserves vented into the sky.

Not a soul stirred amongst the wreckage - just a faint sob or moan that would come and go forgotten in the rubble. We waded into the carnage time and time again, searching desperately for the source of the voices and moans we heard, but came up empty-handed every time. 

It was as if the fire had burned away all life, sparing nothing and no one, leaving only the voices of ghosts behind.

But what truly took my breath away was hidden from sight until I came to the top of the hill, affording me a view out over the ocean, overlooking the very beach I had been on the night before.

Unable to believe my eyes, I threw an arm out and smacked Michael across the chest, pointing. Michael looked up from his surroundings and gasped in amazement. "Holy ship."

Massive and unnatural, it hung over the ocean like a cancerous cloud. Grey and mottled, its sheer volume blocked out most of the sunrise, which was desperately struggling to reach the ground through all the smoke and fire.

Craters pockmarked its sides and from them, I spied dozens of ships taking off and landing in their depths.

A deafening roar echoed in our ears as a formation of human jets flew directly towards the great beast on the horizon. Its reaction was instantaneous – a menacing maw opened in its side and out streamed hundreds of alien fighters, a cloud of them so dense that it cast a shadow on the waves below - each twice as large as the human jets racing towards them. Their exotic blue metal glimmered in the morning light, and they were adorned with great sweeping spikes and blades, they sliced through the air with lethal grace without a single sound.

The human fighters broke ranks and split into smaller formations, twisting and spiraling magnificently as they dove and dodged between enemy craft, their cannons filling the air with light and sound.

The enemy responded just as beautifully, forming squadrons and chasing after individual fighters.

Explosions rattled the air around us as fighters from both sides of the battle burst into flames, crashing into the ocean below with nearly the same grace as they'd had while flying, their expert pilots struggling with failing controls as their cabins burned around them.

Struggling to tear my eyes away from the scene, I pawed at Michael's shoulder, leaning against him to Michael. "Come on man, let's go."

Reluctantly, Michael pulled his eyes away from the battle and followed me back into the city. "We are so fucked."

Our footsteps echoed throughout the empty street we had turned onto, the only sound piercing the eerie crackling of flames. As I surveyed my surroundings, I spotted something in the middle of the road and felt my stomach drop. A still form, laying close to the entrance of a building. I immediately grabbed Michael's arm and pointed. "Michael, look! I think someone is hurt."

Michael followed my finger to the figure of a young woman lying motionless. "Shit," he muttered under his breath.

We ran towards her as fast as we could, and it was easy to see that she was badly injured when we got closer. Her dark hair was matted with clumps of dried blood, and a large amount had pooled around her face and neck. I crouched beside her, brushing her shoulder with my fingertips and asking softly if she was okay.

But there was no response. With a quiet grunt, I rolled her onto her back to get a better look - only to recoil upon recognizing a pair of dead, glassy eyes staring up at me.

My breath hitched as I took in her gaunt features coated in dirt and blood, and my throat tightened when I saw her broken teeth visible between her half-open lips. "She's dead," I whispered in disbelief. "Oh god, she's dead."

Michael's hand fell on my shoulder as I stumbled away from the corpse, my breath coming out in shallow rasps as tears dribbled down my cheeks. I dry heaved multiple times into the grass. I choked out her name: "Amy..."

"What?" Michael said as he leaned closer to me. "Do you know her?"

I nodded miserably, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I whispered her name: "Amy... She's from my math class... We co-wrote a paper on statistics last year..."

Michael put an arm around me and guided me down the road. He quietly told me that they still had to find Emily before patting my back gently. I nodded in agreement and they walked away together in silence, leaving Amy behind in the dark, her eyes reflecting the flames slowly inching closer to her corpse.

As we trudged through the darkness, Michael suddenly laughed, a hollow sound which seemed to mock our dismal circumstances.

"We should've died as kids," he said.

I froze, horrified by the statement. "What kind of thing is that to say?"

"We're gonna die now anyhow, right?" Michael said, his voice edging on despair.

I was speechless for a moment, trying to wrap my head around his sentiment. "Maybe that's true, but think of all we've endured and survived together - not many kids can make it through what we did. We'll get through this too."

Michael scoffed. "Strong enough? For what? What do you think lies ahead for us here? Living like slaves or dying in the ruins of a nuclear holocaust after they take every bit of resources from us? So why keep fighting? What did we ever achieve? Just more pain, suffering and death? We'll never be able to find our medicine again - not with this war going on. Even if I manage to survive this all, eventually the cancer will come back and claim me anyway! What about you? Where are you going to find your immuno drugs, huh? Your liver is gonna fall out of your ass sooner or later! This is fucking bullshit!"

As I thought about his words, I made a desperate bid at some levity.

"So let's steal an alien ship and move to Mars! I hear they've had the cure for cancer there for a thousand years, we'll be fine."

Michael just shook his head and pulled away. He didn't reply, just continued walking.

Frustrated by his apathy, I savagely kicked a chunk of concrete on the ground only to yelp in pain at the sharp impact against my toe. "Ow!" I muttered under my breath while glaring at the offending stone. "How much further do you think until we reach y'all's place?"

Michael rolled his eyes. "I know everything about ya, bud," he said sarcastically. "I remember where you live."

"Don't fucking be like that." I snapped. "So I don't remember where y'all's little fuckshack is, big fucking deal. You're being a bitchass."

Michael snorted but bit his tongue.

A silence hung over us as we trudged on, and I went back to pondering our future and trying to block out my throbbing toes. I wanted to make conversation with Michael but felt too anxious to try – we may have been strong enough to face whatever was ahead of us but that didn't mean I wanted to face it alone.

"You know I'm right," Michael said, his tone bitter.

"Maybe. Maybe not. We're not sure what's going on. Maybe they hit hard and fast and take what they want and go."

"We both know that's bullshit," he spat back.

"I don't know what to fucking tell you Michael."

Michael sighed. "Just making conversation, don't need to get pissed at me."

"Well, maybe don't talk about 'we should've just died.' What the fuck, man."

Michael didn't reply, just stared with a vacant gaze, and then hauled himself limping to the left, beckoning for me to follow.