Free Web NovelChapter 166: Chapter 166 - Something Wrong
The engines came first.
A low rumble outside that rolled across the concrete like distant thunder.
Malcolm’s head snapped toward the sound.
Then tires screeched across gravel.
One vehicle.
Two.
Three.
They came in fast.
Headlights cut across the broken windows and flooded the room in white light before the engines roared down and doors slammed open outside.
Marybeth froze.
"Shit," she whispered.
Voices followed.
Men.
Boots hit the pavement hard and fast.
"Clear the lot."
"Check inside."
Marybeth moved first. She ran for the door and pushed it open just as the first beam of a flashlight swung across the parking lot.
"Don’t shoot!" she called.
The light snapped straight to her face.
"Hold!" someone shouted.
Malcolm barely had time to react before the door burst open again and three men pushed inside with rifles raised.
"Hands!"
Malcolm lifted his slowly.
The pistol still hung in his hand.
One of the men stepped forward and grabbed his wrist, twisting the gun out of his grip before Malcolm could react. Another shoved him back toward the wall.
The room filled quickly.
Four.
Five.
One of them glanced toward the chair.
Iyisha’s body jerked forward against the rope.
Her teeth snapped loudly.
"Well I’ll be damned."
The others followed his gaze.
Iyisha thrashed again, her jaw snapping open and shut while thick saliva ran down her chin.
"Easy," the first man muttered.
He circled the chair slowly.
"Is this your wife?"
Malcolm didn’t answer. His jaw tightened as he tried to step between them and her instinctively, even though she was the one trying to bite.
That told the wanderers everything they needed to know.
They laughed a little.
"Man kept his girl even after she turned."
"Back away from her."
Malcolm stepped forward.
The reaction was instant.
A rifle slammed into his chest and drove him hard into the wall. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs as another man stepped in close and pressed the cold barrel of a gun against the side of his head.
The click of the safety snapping off sounded loud in the room.
"I wouldn’t do that if I were you," the man said quietly.
Malcolm froze.
Behind him the chair scraped violently across the floor.
Iyisha’s body thrashed against the rope, her jaw snapping open and shut while thick saliva spilled down her chin.
Her mind worried about him. About them.
Then one of the men grabbed Malcolm by the collar and yanked him.
"Let’s take this outside."
They shoved him toward the door.
Marybeth was dragged along beside him.
One of the wanderers laughed.
"Hey—"
He jerked his thumb back toward the chair.
More laughter.
"Let’s carry it outside."
"Yeah," another one said, amused. "Kill her in front of him."
Behind them someone grabbed the chair.
The legs scraped loudly across the floor as Iyisha’s body jerked against the ropes, her teeth snapping uselessly through the air.
Night had settled over the lot.
The three vehicles sat in the middle of the pavement with their headlights blasting white light across the empty space. The beams cut through the darkness and lit the cracked asphalt like a stage.
Malcolm and Marybeth were forced down to their knees between the cars.
A man stood behind each of them with a rifle pointed down.
Malcolm kept his head up.
Marybeth’s breathing was fast and shallow.
The chair was dragged out after them and dropped several feet away.
Iyisha’s body lunged forward again immediately, the rope straining while her teeth snapped toward the closest movement.
The men laughed again.
"Easy there."
"Hungry girl."
Around the edge of the parking lot shapes lay scattered across the pavement. Bloated undead that didn’t care about them.
None of them moved.
None reacted.
Just silent corpses baking into the cracked asphalt while the headlights washed over them.
"What did you want from us?" Marybeth asked, her voice tight with fear. Her curls were everywhere, falling across her face as she struggled to keep her breathing steady.
The men laughed.
Not amused.
Like she had asked the dumbest question in the world.
"Don’t worry, pretty girl," one of them said.
"We got plans for you."
More laughter.
Marybeth swallowed. "Please... just let us go."
A man stepped forward and crouched in front of her. He grabbed her chin and forced her face up.
"You’ll do real well at the base."
The others laughed again.
Iyisha felt something twist inside her.
If they thought Marybeth was valuable...
Her eyes moved.
Malcolm.
He was on his knees beside her.
A rifle pressed against the back of his head.
His jaw was tight.
His shoulders were rigid.
He would die here.
The thought hit her so hard everything inside her went cold.
God.
He was going to die because of her.
If only he had left.
If only she had hidden better.
If only—
No.
Inside her mind the words rose like a scream.
Help him.
Help him.
Help him.
One of the men wandered closer to the chair.
He frowned.
"Something’s weird with this one."
Iyisha barely moved now. Her jaw still opened and closed slowly but the violent snapping had stopped.
No one listened.
The man nudged her with the barrel of his gun.
Her head shifted slightly.
Inside her skull the same thought pounded harder.
Help.
Help.
Help him.
Please.
Something tightened at the back of her head.
A deep pressure.
Like something inside her brain was pulling outward.
Her vision blurred.
The pressure grew.
Then the pain hit.
White-hot.
Exploding through the base of her skull.
Her body jerked violently.
A sound tore free from her throat before she could stop it.
"Aaaaargh!"
The pressure grew until the pain exploded through the base of her skull.
White.
Blinding.
Darkness rushed up behind her vision, trying to drag her under again.
No.
Not now.
She forced herself to hold on.
She couldn’t leave them.
Not while Malcolm was still on his knees with a gun pressed to the back of his head.
Help him.
The thought burned through her mind again and again.
The pressure in her skull grew worse, stretching outward like something inside her brain was pushing against bone and nerve.
Her vision blurred.
Her jaw hung open.
But her body was no longer thrashing.
Slowly, her hands lifted.
The ropes strained as her fingers reached forward.
Toward Malcolm.
Her bloodshot eyes locked onto him with a focus no walker should have.
One of the wanderers noticed first.
"Hey."
Another turned.
"What the hell..."
The man standing closest to her frowned.
"She’s not acting right."
The laughter died.
Several rifles shifted toward the chair.
"What the fuck is happening with her?"
Another spike of pain tore through the back of Iyisha’s skull.
Her body jerked.
And the parking lot changed.
Around the edge of the headlights the bloated walkers glued to the cracked pavement stirred.
They couldn’t stand.
Their swollen bodies were fused to the asphalt.
But their heads moved.
Slowly.
All at once.
Every single one of them turned toward the men.
A low, hungry growl rolled across the lot.
And the wanderers finally noticed.
