They didn’t wait.


Civilian gathered his things, folded the map, and slipped it into his pocket, keeping it within reach. Soldier swung the heavy pack back over his shoulders—the same pack that had caught Civilian’s attention the moment they met. It was obvious it wasn’t meant for personal belongings. But what it was meant for, he had no idea. And he didn’t ask. He suspected he wouldn’t get an answer anyway.


They set off. Civilian led the way, Soldier followed a few steps behind. Both remained awkwardly silent. Civilian, because Soldier made him uneasy. Soldier, because he had no idea what he’d even say to the kid. They came from completely different worlds, and it was clear they had little in common.


Then something caught both their eyes.


Civilian stopped and stood still, head tilted back. He shaded his eyes against the pale sunlight.


Hanging directly above him were a pair of shoes. They looked almost new, tied together by their laces and looped over an overhead power line, swaying gently in the breeze.


It could’ve been a leftover trace of the old world. A childish prank, a gang sign, or a message for dealers. That’s how it used to be, back when the city still belonged to the living. But now? Now it could mean anything. Or nothing.


Soldier stopped scanning the buildings and followed Civilian’s gaze. His jaw clenched.


“Is it a warning?” he asked aloud after a moment.


Civilian scratched the back of his head, uncertain.


“Maybe,” he admitted reluctantly. “Last time I passed through here, they definitely weren’t there. But whoever hung them up must’ve forgotten to leave a note. So yeah...it could mean anything.”


The city around them was full of questions like that. They whispered from every empty alley they passed, lay curled up in every house with a broken door, and clung to every shadow on the cracked asphalt.


Whose shoes are those? Who threw them up there? Where is the one who wore them? And where are all the people who used to live here? Did they leave? Or did they stay? Are they dead or still breathing?


Soldier scanned the facades again, more tensely now.


Satellite dishes jutted from the buildings like broken bones, and power lines twisted along the streets like resting snakes.


Where there had once been life, now only dust settled.


A single sound came from above.


The soft creak of the shoes, swaying slightly in the wind.


“Maybe we’ll find out later. Or maybe we never will,” Civilian said quietly and pulled the map from his pocket, marking their position.


Next time he passed this way, maybe he’d know.