Free Web NovelChapter 168: Chapter 168 - Again
Malcolm froze.
For a moment he thought he had imagined it.
He kept his head against her chest, listening.
There.
A second beat.
Weak.
But real.
His jaw tightened.
Slowly he lifted his head.
His eyes moved over her face. Her skin was still pale. Her lips still parted slightly. A faint line of dried saliva clung to the corner of her mouth.
She still looked like one of them.
But her chest rose again.
Barely.
Malcolm reached for the rope around her wrists. His hands moved faster now, pulling the knot loose, fingers rough and impatient as the cord finally gave way.
Marybeth stepped closer behind him.
"What are you doing?" she asked, voice shaking.
Malcolm didn’t look back.
"She’s breathing."
Marybeth froze.
"What?"
Malcolm slid the rope free and caught Iyisha as her body sagged forward. She was cold. Too cold. But not stiff.
Not dead.
He pressed two fingers against the side of her neck.
For a moment there was nothing.
Then he felt it.
A faint pulse against his fingertips.
Marybeth sucked in a breath.
"Oh my God..."
Malcolm exhaled slowly through his nose.
"She’s alive."
The words sounded wrong even to him.
He looked down at her again.
Her eyes were still closed.
Her skin was cold.
And somewhere out in the darkness of the parking lot, the walkers remained completely silent.
Malcolm’s gaze lifted slowly across the pavement.
None of them were looking at him anymore.
None of them were moving.
His eyes drifted back to Iyisha.
Something was happening.
And he had no idea what she had become.
Iyisha’s head tilted slightly against his arm.
Her hair fell away from her face.
Then her hand moved.
Her fingers lifted slowly and closed around Malcolm’s wrist.
His body locked.
Marybeth inhaled sharply behind him.
"Malcolm..." Marybeth muttered, staring at Iyisha. "Is she..."
He didn’t pull away.
Iyisha’s grip tightened.
Weak.
Another uneven breath slipped past her lips.
Then her fingers twitched.
Her grip loosened slightly before tightening again as if her body were remembering how to hold on.
Marybeth hovered a few steps away, pistol still raised though her hands trembled.
"Malcolm... that’s not—"
"Quiet."
His voice was low but sharp.
Marybeth stopped talking.
Malcolm leaned closer.
"Iyisha."
Nothing.
Her eyes stayed closed.
Her face was still.
For a moment he wondered if the movement had only been instinct. Some leftover nerve firing in a dying body.
Then her fingers tightened again.
Stronger this time.
Malcolm’s breath caught.
Across the parking lot something scraped against the pavement and a low growl rolled through the darkness.
Marybeth turned sharply toward the sound.
The bloated walkers scattered across the cracked asphalt were stirring again. They couldn’t move, their swollen bodies still fused to the pavement, but their heads were turning slowly, one after another, thick necks straining as hungry sounds crawled from their throats under the glare of the headlights.
"They’re moving again," Marybeth whispered.
Malcolm didn’t look.
His eyes remained fixed on Iyisha.
A faint crease formed between her brows as if something inside her skull was tightening or pulling. Her fingers tightened weakly around his wrist again before the strength suddenly drained from them and her hand slipped, falling limp against his arm.
Malcolm’s body went rigid.
"Iyisha."
Her eyelids lifted slowly.
Her pupils were dark.
Too dark.
But they focused.
On him.
For a moment he thought he had imagined it.
He stared into her eyes, searching for the dull emptiness he had seen when she turned.
It wasn’t there.
Her gaze stayed on him.
Focused.
Aware.
His chest tightened.
"Iyisha..."
The name left him quietly, almost like he was afraid the sound might break whatever fragile thing was happening in front of him.
Her breathing remained shallow.
But her eyes didn’t leave his.
Marybeth stepped closer behind him.
"Iyisha...?"
Her voice trembled.
He lifted one hand slowly and waved her back without looking.
Malcolm leaned closer to Iyisha, studying her face as if every detail mattered.
"You hear me?"
Her eyes shifted slightly.
Following his voice.
His heart slammed once against his ribs.
"She can see you," Marybeth whispered.
Malcolm didn’t answer.
His thumb moved slowly against the back of Iyisha’s hand where it rested against his wrist.
Her fingers twitched in response.
Malcolm exhaled slowly through his nose.
The tension in his shoulders tightened instead of easing.
"Stay with me," he murmured.
Iyisha’s fingers suddenly tightened.
Then her body jerked.
A low groan tore from her throat as her back arched violently in Malcolm’s arms. Her muscles locked and her eyes rolled upward until only the whites showed.
He held her through it, one arm wrapped around her shoulders as the seizure ripped through her body. Her limbs trembled uncontrollably, the movement sharp and desperate like her nerves were firing all at once.
He didn’t let go.
Slowly the convulsion weakened.
Her body sagged again.
The tension drained from her muscles and her head fell against his arm.
Her eyes closed.
Malcolm checked her wrist.
The pulse was still there.
Weak.
But steady.
He lifted her carefully and carried her toward the Land Rover.
"We need to go," he said.
Marybeth stood beside the vehicles, staring at Iyisha’s limp body in Malcolm’s arms. Her expression shifted between relief and disbelief.
"Did she evolve?" she asked. "Mutate? Whatever you call that?"
Malcolm laid Iyisha gently across the back seat before straightening.
"I don’t know."
Marybeth dragged both hands through her curls, pulling at them in frustration.
"She was dead a while ago."
Malcolm nodded once.
"She was."
They had seen her turn.
Seen her body move like every other undead.
Seen her try to bite them.
He still didn’t understand what had happened.
But one thing was certain.
She was alive.
And she was back beside him.
"Let’s go."
Malcolm grabbed the remaining guns from the bodies scattered across the pavement before climbing into the driver’s seat.
Marybeth slid into the passenger side.
The Land Rover’s engine roared to life, the sound echoing sharply through the empty lot.
Malcolm backed the vehicle out of the ruined building and steered it toward the road.
"Be careful," Marybeth said.
Malcolm’s hands tightened on the wheel.
The engine growled louder as the vehicle pushed forward into the night.
"Brace," he warned.
A twitcher burst from the darkness and sprinted toward them, its body jerking violently as it closed the distance.
The Land Rover slammed through it.
The impact rattled the entire vehicle.
Marybeth bit her lip as she looked out across the road ahead.
Walkers staggered in the darkness, drawn by the noise, while twitchers ran toward them in sudden bursts of unnatural speed.
Malcolm flipped open the center storage compartment.
Inside sat the automated gun control.
"Look out," he said. "If you see a hunter, use it."
Marybeth nodded, gripping the weapon mount as the Land Rover tore down the empty highway.
The road ahead was nearly black, lit only by the vehicle’s headlights cutting through the darkness.
They passed the overturned car where the horde had once gathered.
Now the road around it was clear.
Another twitcher lunged from the shoulder and slammed into the side of the vehicle, making the Land Rover shake violently.
Malcolm didn’t slow.
His eyes stayed locked on the road.
They needed to get out of Ohio.
His gaze flicked briefly to the back seat.
Iyisha lay stretched across it, motionless.
Unconscious.
But breathing.
Alive.
Malcolm drew in a slow breath and tightened his grip on the wheel.
She was alive.
Malcolm kept his eyes on the road.
The Land Rover tore through the empty highway, its headlights cutting a narrow path through the black. The engine roared under the hood as the tires struck broken asphalt and scattered debris.
He glanced up at the rearview mirror.
Something glinted in the darkness behind them.
Just for a second.
Then it was gone.
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed.
"I think a hunter’s following us."
Marybeth’s hand shot to the automated gun mounted in the center console. She twisted in her seat and aimed it toward the back window.
For a moment there was nothing.
Then her breath caught.
"Something’s coming."
Her voice trembled.
Scared.
"Kill it," Malcolm said calmly.
Marybeth squeezed the trigger.
The automated gun roared to life.
The entire roof of the Land Rover rattled as the weapon fired in violent bursts into the darkness behind them. The recoil shook through the frame of the vehicle while the muzzle flashes lit the road in sharp white pulses.
Marybeth stopped firing.
Silence rushed back in.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she stared into the darkness.
"I don’t know if I got it."
Malcolm checked the rearview mirror again.
There was nothing behind them.
Only the empty road and the endless black swallowing the headlights.
"Stay alert," he said.
Marybeth nodded and kept scanning the road behind them, her hands still tight around the gun.
The Land Rover pushed deeper into the dark highway.
