Surviving Armageddon

42. The Search: Part 3

Esther's fingers fumbled with the near-empty magazine, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. "Running low on ammo," she muttered, glancing over at Spencer, who shared a similar look.

Spencer sighed, his eyes scanning the surroundings where the Nephilims had them cornered. "Looks like you and I are in a tight spot, my friend," he remarked, his tone tinged with a touch of dark humor that tried to mask the gravity of their situation.

The building offered little support, its walls now serving as an cage with the relentless Nephilims closing in. Spencer's words hung in the air, acknowledging the shared predicament they found themselves in. "James's bad luck sure found its way to us," he added, an ironic smile playing on his lips.

Esther couldn't help but crack a small smile, appreciating Spencer's attempt to lighten the tension. "Things were manageable when we had to fight one Nephilim. Now out of nowhere a bunch of them just spawned. How the hell are we supposed to deal with a