Through Fire and Fear

Adam glanced around for something to block the door. He needed sleep, but he wasn't about to risk it with the door unguarded. Scanning the apartment, his eyes landed on a washing machine. It was heavy and sturdy, making it a perfect barricade.

He moved toward it and started pushing. Surprisingly, it didn't feel as heavy as he expected, thanks to his increased strength stats. With some effort, he managed to shift it into place, securing the door.

With that done, he headed to the kitchen to gather supplies. He had already checked for food and essentials earlier, so now it was just a matter of collecting them. He set some rice to cook on the stove, then began searching for weapons. Rummaging through drawers, he found a large kitchen knife, one hefty enough to pass as a dagger or short sword, likely meant for cutting meat.

"This might come in handy," he muttered to himself, gripping the knife before tucking it away.

Afterward, he prepared a stew to go with the rice. He considered waiting for Emily, but hunger gnawed at him, and he couldn't hold back any longer. Once he had eaten his fill, exhaustion took over. The events of the past day, combined with the lack of sleep, weighed heavily on him.

Without another thought, Adam collapsed onto the bed. Sleep claimed him almost instantly.

Meanwhile, as Adam drifted into deep slumber, Emily stepped out of the shower, drying herself off before dressing in some of Josh's wife's clothes.

After dressing up, Emily stepped out of the bathroom, letting out a small sigh as she adjusted the sleeves of the clothes she had borrowed. The fabric smelled slightly different—clean, but unfamiliar. It didn't belong to her. It belonged to someone who wasn't here anymore. The thought lingered in her mind for a moment before she pushed it away. There was no use thinking about the past when survival demanded her full attention.

The scent of food pulled her toward the kitchen. The dim glow from the overhead light flickered slightly, casting long shadows across the small, quiet space. She hesitated at the doorway, her eyes landing on the table.

A bowl of rice and stew sat there, waiting. The steam had mostly dissipated, but it was still warm.

He left some for me.

A soft warmth settled in her chest. She hadn't expected that. Adam had never struck her as the considerate type. He was practical, blunt, sometimes annoyingly so—but this? This was different. A quiet gesture in a world where kindness had become a luxury.

She sat down, picking up the spoon. The first bite spread warmth through her body, easing some of the tension she hadn't realized she was carrying. It tasted simple but good. Familiar. Like something from before.

For a while, she just ate. No rushing. No watching over her shoulder. Just a rare moment of normalcy.

By the time she finished, the exhaustion from the past few hours had settled into her bones. Her limbs felt heavy, her thoughts sluggish. She glanced toward Adam's closed door. He had gone to sleep earlier, and she knew she should rest too.

With a sigh, she stood, rinsed her bowl, and found a spot near the couch, pulling a blanket over herself. The night stretched on in silence.

Time passed.

Nothing happened.

The world outside remained still, save for the occasional gust of wind rattling the loose window frame.

Hours slipped away.

Adam remained asleep in his room, and Emily dozed in and out of restless dreams. At some point, the moonlight shifted, casting pale beams through the cracked curtains. The faint hum of the refrigerator was the only sound accompanying the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing.

Then—

Somewhere in the distance—

A sound.

Faint at first. Barely noticeable.

A slow, dragging noise.

Emily stirred, her brows furrowing in her sleep. The noise grew, shifting into something more deliberate. More unnatural.

Then came the pounding.

A deep, rhythmic thud against wood.

Loud. Unrelenting.

Emily's eyes snapped open.

For a moment, she didn't move, her brain still sluggish with sleep. But then the sound registered fully, and her entire body tensed.

She sat up sharply, her heart hammering against her ribs. The pounding was coming from the front door.

Another hit.

Then another.

The wood creaked under the pressure, the hinges rattling slightly.

Her stomach dropped.

They had found them.

She was on her feet before she even realized it, her pulse roaring in her ears.

She sprinted toward Adam's room, shoving the door open without hesitation.

"Adam—Adam, wake up!" Her voice came out sharper than she intended, but he didn't stir.

She grabbed his shoulder, shaking him hard.

Nothing.

"Adam, wake up!" she hissed, gripping him tighter.

For a second, nothing happened. Then, with a groggy groan, he stirred.

"Who's at the door at this time…" His voice was thick with sleep, his brain clearly not caught up yet.

Emily's grip tightened. "It's not someone—it's something."

Adam's eyes snapped open.

The sleep vanished in an instant, replaced by sharp alertness.

He sat up quickly, glancing at the nearby digital display. His stats window flickered in front of him. Four hours left. That meant he had slept for about six.

"Man, that was some good sleep," he muttered, stretching his arms.

Emily exhaled sharply, still gripping his shoulder. "I bet it was. I've been shouting for more than five minutes! I thought you passed out."

Adam looked up at her then, and for the first time in a long while, he saw something strange—worry.

It was brief. Fleeting. But it was there.

A small, strange warmth settled in his chest. He hadn't felt something like that in a while.

But there was no time to dwell on it.

The pounding grew louder.

A crack splintered through the wood.

Adam's expression hardened.

"Emily, pack up our stuff. We're leaving." His tone left no room for argument.

She hesitated for only a second before nodding. Without wasting another breath, she rushed to grab their supplies, stuffing everything she could into their bags.

"But they're at the door! How are we supposed to leave?" she asked, voice tense.

Adam didn't answer immediately. Instead, he crouched near the kitchen drawers, rummaging through them with precise, quick movements.

His fingers closed around a can of lighter fluid and a small metal lighter.

He turned to her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"We'll go with a bang."

Emily blinked.

He can't be serious.

But the look in his eyes told her he absolutely was.

Without another word, he moved toward the door, flipping the cap open on the lighter fluid. The scent of chemicals filled the air as he sprayed it liberally over the wood.

Emily watched, a knot forming in her stomach.

How is he so calm?

As if sensing her unspoken thoughts, he chuckled under his breath.

"This time," he murmured, flicking the lighter, "we make fire zombies."

A small flame danced to life.

Then, without hesitation, he pressed it to the soaked wood.

The fire spread instantly, licking hungrily at the surface. Smoke curled upward, filling the space with the sharp, acrid scent of burning chemicals.

Seconds passed.

Then a minute.

The door gave out with a loud, splintering crack.

Four zombies forced their way inside.

But as soon as they stepped through the flames, their bodies caught fire.

And yet—

They didn't stop.

They didn't scream.

They didn't even flinch.

They just kept coming.

Adam and Emily locked eyes. No words needed to be exchanged.

They moved.

The zombies split—two toward Adam, two toward Emily.

Adam swung first, his bat connecting with the side of a zombie's skull. The impact sent it reeling, but it didn't go down. Snarling, he swung again, harder this time, and the sickening crunch that followed told him it was done.

Emily gritted her teeth, dodging the charred grasp of one of her attackers. Her grip tightened around the metal rod in her hands. With a sharp breath, she thrust forward—straight into the zombie's eye socket.

The creature stilled.

Then it dropped.

Silence filled the space, broken only by the crackling flames.

Adam let out a low whistle.

Emily turned to him, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"You could've helped me," she muttered, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

Adam smirked. "But then you wouldn't get stronger."

She scowled but didn't argue. Instead, she pulled up her stats window.

[You have leveled up.]

"Where should I put my points?" she asked.

"Durability. You look exhausted."

She didn't argue with that either.

With a few taps, she allocated her points. Almost immediately, the fatigue melted away.

She clenched her fists.

Stronger.

Adam gave a nod of approval.

"Good. Now let's get out of here before more of them show up."

And just like that, they were on the move again.