Free Web NovelChapter 100: Chapter 100 - A Goodbye
They sat on the bench just inside the gate, close enough that their knees touched. Mary kept adjusting the sleeve of her jacket like it was too tight. Ester kept rubbing her hands together even though it was no longer that cold.
"You two look like I’m walking straight into my grave," Iyisha said, trying to keep it light.
Mary shot her a look. "Don’t joke."
"I’m serious," Iyisha said. "I’m leaving the gate, not stepping off a cliff."
Ester’s mouth trembled despite herself. "You almost froze to death last time you left," she said. "That’s not nothing."
Iyisha exhaled slowly. "And I didn’t," she said. "I came back."
"That’s the point," Mary replied, her voice tightening despite her effort to keep it steady. "You came back, this time, you’re not going to come back, are you?"
Iyisha looked at her and smiled, soft and honest, the kind that did not pretend. "I don’t know," she said. "It’s a long drive from New York."
The words hung there, heavier than they sounded.
Ester nodded first. Mary followed. None of them argued, because they all understood what lived underneath it. The roads were dangerous. Time was worse. Even if Iyisha did turn back years from now, there was no guarantee of who would still be standing, on either side of that journey.
They stood together in that truth, quiet and unspoken, knowing that some goodbyes were not about certainty, only about accepting what the world had become.
Iyisha leaned back, following their gaze without meaning to.
Malcolm was by the Land Cruiser, hood open, checking something that had already been checked twice.
He had barely slowed since she got out of the hospital. One hunt, then another, then another. She had wondered if he was avoiding her, then realized it didn’t matter.
The community hadn’t given them a junk car. They had given them something meant to survive bad roads and worse situations. Malcolm answered trust by working harder, not by resting.
"The roads are thawed," Ester said quietly. "Which just means people will move more."
"And so will trouble," Mary added.
Iyisha nodded. She wasn’t pretending otherwise. "I know."
Ester swallowed. "You say that like it’s fine."
"It’s not fine," Iyisha said. "It’s just real."
Mary looked at her hard, eyes shining now. "You don’t get it. In here, if something happens, we can reach you. Outside, if something goes wrong—" She stopped, jaw tightening. "That’s it."
Iyisha reached out and squeezed her hand.
Mary didn’t pull away.
Ester finally leaned in and hugged her, quick and fierce. "You better be careful," she said. "No stupid risks."
Iyisha gave a small smile. "I’ll try."
Mary hugged her next, longer. "Don’t be a hero," she said. "Just survive."
Iyisha stood, heart heavy but steady. When she turned toward the Land Cruiser, Malcolm looked up and closed the hood.
Mary broke first.
She stood up abruptly and pulled Iyisha into her, the restraint gone, arms tight and shaking as she pressed her face into Iyisha’s shoulder. Ester followed a second later, wrapping herself around both of them, the three of them collapsing into a messy tangled hug on the bench.
Iyisha cried then. Not quiet tears. Ugly ones.
Sobs that came with sniffing and snot and breath she could not catch, her face buried between them as she clung hard like letting go would undo everything. Mary cried into her hair. Ester cried openly, shoulders shaking, hands gripping the back of Iyisha’s jacket like she was afraid she might slip away.
"I hate this," Ester choked.
"I know," Iyisha said, voice wrecked. "I know."
They stayed like that until the crying slowed into broken breaths and sniffles, until there was nothing left to hold back. Iyisha pulled away first, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, laughing weakly at herself.
"Thank you," she said simply. "For everything."
Mary and Ester nodded, their eyes red, unable to speak yet.
People began to gather then, quietly at first.
Some came close. Others stayed a few steps back. The elders watched from a distance, faces soft and approving. Rhea stood with her family, hand over her mouth.
A few of the hospital workers she had spent long nights with came forward to squeeze her shoulder or touch her arm, familiar faces who did not need words. Some of the friends she had come to know lingered nearby, offering quiet nods and small smiles. Even Michael stepped in, awkward for a second before giving her a gentle hug and wishing her goodluck.
Some of the students hovered awkwardly, eyes wide and unsure, offering small waves and shy smiles.
Men Malcolm worked with nodded at her as they passed, respectful and subdued.
Iyisha looked toward the Land Cruiser.
Malcolm stood nearby, listening to a teenager talking animatedly at his side. Kyle, she thought, if she remembered right. Malcolm rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder, nodding as if the words mattered, as if he had time for them even now.
Her chest tightened.
She looked back at the people around her, at the gate, at the familiar buildings and paths and faces that had become routine without her realizing it. This place had been home to her in a way West Bridge never was. More than the house she had lived in before everything fell apart.
The Heart community had held her. Fed her. Given her work. Given her back to herself.
She reached for Mary’s hand again. For Ester’s.
"I won’t forget you," she said quietly.
They squeezed back, both of them crying again, smaller this time, the kind that came when there was nothing left to say.
Mario came last.
He stopped in front of them, hands hooked into his belt, studying Iyisha for a long moment before nodding once. "If you ever get tired of being wanderers," he said simply, voice steady, "this place will still be here. You’ll always be welcome back."
Iyisha swallowed and nodded, because anything she tried to say would have broken.
Iyisha took one last look around, memorizing it without trying to, then turned toward Malcolm and the road beyond the gate, carrying the weight of this place with her because she knew it would never leave her, no matter how far she went.
The gate opened slowly and they drove through.
The Land Cruiser rolled first, heavy and sure, tires biting into thawed ground, and behind them a smaller car followed close, Waldo at the wheel with Lauren beside him.
The gate closed behind them with a sound that felt final.
Iyisha did not look back.
She sat quiet now, tears dried on her face, chest still tight from everything she had left pressed inside her ribs. The buildings faded. The voices faded. The safety faded with distance, replaced by trees crowding in closer, the road narrowing, the world stretching out rough and uncertain again.
Malcolm drove without speaking, eyes forward, hands steady on the wheel.
The path ahead was darker. Less traveled. The kind of route people avoided unless they had to take it.
Iyisha felt it settle in her bones, the familiar edge returning, the understanding that whatever waited ahead would not be gentle, would not be forgiving, and would not care what she had survived to get here.
The Heart community disappeared behind them.
And the road did not promise safety.
Only movement.
