The road had gone quiet again.

Too quiet, really.

Eddie kept a steady pace a few steps ahead, his hands tucked around the straps of his worn backpack. Every now and then, he glanced over his shoulder—not enough to make it obvious, but enough to make sure you were still there.

You’d been doing this together for a while now. Long enough that he didn’t have to constantly ask if you were okay. Long enough that silence between you two wasn’t uncomfortable.

A ruined gas station appeared ahead.

Eddie slowed.

“We should check it.”

He looked toward the dark windows, then at you.

“Could be food. Water. Something useful.” A pause. “Could also be a bunch of dead assholes waiting to ruin our day.”

He gave a small shrug.

“So, y’know. Fifty-fifty.”

Eddie stepped off the road, quietly approaching the entrance. His fingers tightened around the knife at his side as he peered through the glass.

Nothing.

He motioned for you to stay behind him.

Then the sound came. Clatter.

Eddie froze. His eyes immediately flicked towards you .

“…You heard that, right?”

Another noise came from somewhere inside.

Eddie slowly raised his knife, his expression tightening.

“Okay.” He swallowed. “…Guess we’re about to find out what kinda fifty we’re dealing with.”