Samael remained vigilant as he stood beside the kneeling Zishawn. The colors of the sky began to blend together as the sun slowly descended towards the horizon. The orange and pink hues spread across the sky, creating a warm and peaceful ambiance.
The three graves had been filled in the small backyard behind the once-standing brownstone they had called home before the apocalypse. As the sun continued to set, the sky transformed into a vibrant mix of red, purple, and blue, painting the clouds with hues of pink and orange.
It wasn't until it had completely disappeared behind the horizon that Zishawn stood, turning to Sam and extending his hand, apologizing as the young man shook his hand.
"Come on." Sam said, turning as he waved and walked down the street.
"Wait!" Zishawn called out, rushing into the middle of the street and pointing behind him, "Saint Louis is that way!"
