High Stakes

Adam stared at the wound on Emily's shin, his heart pounding against his ribs. The blood had already dried in streaks down her leg, but the origin of the injury was still unknown. His hands clenched into fists. Was it a bite? A scrape? Could he risk believing her?

Emily's breathing was uneven, her body slumping slightly against the wall. She was weak. Sweat lined her forehead, and her lips were pale. That wasn't a good sign.

Then, without warning, her body gave out completely.

"Shit," Adam muttered as she collapsed onto the floor.

His instinct screamed at him to back away. To get as far as possible. But logic fought against his panic. If she was infected, she wouldn't turn instantly - at least, not from what he had seen . The people outside had taken time to change, though the exact window was still a mystery.

Taking a deep breath, Adam grabbed some duct tape from his closet. He worked quickly, wrapping Emily's wrists together behind the chair and securing her ankles. If she turned, she wouldn't be able to lunge at him. If she was telling the truth, she'd be pissed-but alive.

He moved back, and watched to see any changes such as dark veins forming, like he had seen on the creatures outside.

The minutes stretched as he sat there, listening to the distant groans outside. His mind raced. What if she turned while unconscious? What if she was already too far gone?

He checked the window again. The street outside was still swarming, the undead moving in erratic, jerky motions. The military was nowhere in sight anymore. Either they retreated… or they were wiped out. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

Adam grabbed his knife from the kitchen counter and sat down in front of Emily, gripping the handle tightly. He needed answers, but first, he needed her to wake up. He couldn't afford to be caught off guard.

After what felt like an eternity, Emily stirred. Her fingers twitched, her eyelids fluttering open. She groaned softly, her confused gaze locking onto his face before she looked down, realizing her current condition.

"What the hell?" she rasped, struggling weakly. "Why am I tied up?"

Adam folded his arms, keeping his distance. "You passed out," he said flatly. "And I need to know what happened to your leg before I untie you."

Emily's breathing was shallow, her face tightening with frustration. "Are you serious?"

He didn't answer.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the chair. "I wasn't bitten," she muttered. "I was running, then…someone shoved me, and I tripped on the pavement. Scraped my leg up bad."

His eyes stayed locked on hers, searching for any sign of dishonesty. "And you passed out because…?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I haven't eaten anything since yesterday morning. I was working my shift in my office and had a lot of work to do , then by night the world had changed as you know it."

That explanation made sense.

Adam exhaled slowly, weighing his options. If she was telling the truth, leaving her tied up was cruel. But if she was lying…

His gaze flickered to the wound again. Dried blood, but no visible teeth marks.

"I swear," Emily whispered, as if reading his mind. "I'm not one of them."

He wanted to believe her. God, he wanted to. But hesitation kept him frozen.

The silence between them stretched, Adam just looked at her thinking of any reasons to help her without risking his own safety.

Outside, something crashed against metal, followed by an inhuman screech. That brought Adam back to his senses.

Adam's grip tightened on his knife. He needed to make a decision. Now.

Adam's grip tightened around the knife handle, his fingers clammy with sweat. Outside, the distant screeches and the echo of something metallic being overturned sent a chill down his spine. The infected were still out there, prowling and searching.

He looked back at Emily, still tied to the chair. Her breaths were slow, controlled, but he could see the slight tremble in her fingers. Fear? Weakness? He wasn't sure. But uncertainty was a dangerous thing.

He needed to be smart about this. If she was infected, time would tell. If she wasn't, then he had just tied up an innocent person for no reason. But trust? That was a luxury he couldn't afford.

"You'll stay tied up," he finally said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "At least for now."

Emily didn't argue. She just closed her eyes briefly, exhaling through her nose. "I get it," she murmured. "I'd probably do the same."

That answer almost made him feel guilty.

Ignoring the tension in the air, Adam turned to his dwindling supplies. He had maybe three, four days' worth of food if he rationed carefully. Adding another mouth to feed was risky. But leaving her to starve would be just as cruel.

He grabbed an energy bar from the counter, unwrapped it, and held it out. "Eat."

Emily blinked at the small offering, then looked up at him, confused. "You sure?"

"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't. I am not a bad person , I am just worried about my safety."

With some difficulty due to her bound hands, she leaned forward, taking a bite straight from his hand. Her teeth sank into the bar, and for a moment, the exhaustion on her face lessened. She chewed slowly, savouring every crumb.

Adam stepped away, filling a mug with warm water from the kettle he had boiled earlier. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. He pressed the rim against her lips, tilting it carefully so she wouldn't choke. She drank greedily, letting out a shaky sigh when he pulled it back.

"Thanks," she muttered, her voice hoarse.

Adam didn't respond. Instead, he grabbed the bottle of rubbing alcohol from his makeshift first-aid kit. The wound on her shin might have been just a scrape, but infection was still a risk. And if she really wasn't bitten, she didn't need to die from something as stupid as an untreated wound.

"This is going to sting," he warned.

Emily nodded, bracing herself.

He poured a generous amount of alcohol onto a cloth and pressed it against the torn skin. She sucked in a sharp breath, her muscles tensing as the burn set in. But she didn't scream, didn't even curse, just clenched her jaw and endured it.

Adam studied her again. If she was faking, she was damn good at it.

Tying off the bandage, he sat back on his heels. "We'll wait," he said simply. "If you start showing symptoms, I'll handle it."

Emily swallowed hard. "And if I don't?"

Adam didn't answer. Because he still wasn't sure what he'd do next.

Adam sat on the floor, back pressed against the wall, his fingers idly tapping against the metal pipe resting across his lap. His eyes stayed fixed on Emily, who remained tied to the chair, her breathing steady but weak. The bandages around her leg were holding, and she had managed to sip down the warm water he had given her earlier. Still, she hadn't spoken much since their last exchange, her exhaustion keeping her silent.

The outside world had been chaos for hours- screams, the guttural sounds of the infected prowling the streets. But now… now there was nothing. Not a single growl, not a single echo of movement. Just silence.

His grip on the pipe tightened. Silence was never a good thing.

Emily must have noticed the shift in his expression because she finally spoke, her voice hoarse. "Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he pushed himself up and moved toward the window, careful to stay behind the curtain. He shifted the fabric just enough to peek through, his gaze scanning the street below.

Nothing. No bodies. No movement. Not even the distant flicker of emergency lights.

It was as if the world outside had been swallowed whole.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably. The infected weren't mindless - he had seen them react to sound, to movement, to fresh prey. They wandered, searched, attacked. But now, they were just… gone?

Emily cleared her throat, trying to wet her dry lips. "Adam?"

He turned to her, keeping his voice low. "The streets were filled with them an hour ago. Now it's dead quiet."

She frowned, struggling to sit up straighter against the bindings. "That… that doesn't make sense."

"No, it doesn't."

His instincts screamed at him to stay put. Whatever this was, whatever unnatural calm had settled, it wasn't normal. It felt like the moment before a predator pounced, the breathless pause before the storm broke. He had seen horror movies, played survival games. Silence was never good.

He moved back toward Emily, kneeling beside her chair. "Can you walk?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "If you untie me, yeah."

Adam studied her for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose. "Not yet."

Her jaw clenched. "Are you serious?"

"I gave you food, water, and I patched up your wound. But you're still under observation, and I'm not taking any risks."

She glared at him but didn't argue. Maybe she understood. Maybe she felt the same - scared, uncertain, trapped between hope and fear. Not knowing what to do. Not knowing what might kill you.