Free Web NovelChapter 169: Chapter 169 - Alive Again
"Malcolm—"
Iyisha’s eyes snap open.
For a moment she doesn’t know where she is.
Then the memory crashes back.
Headlights.
Men laughing.
The rifle pressed to the back of Malcolm’s head.
Her body jerks upright.
"No—"
Her gaze finds him instantly.
Malcolm sits a few feet away against the wall, looking at her with his arms crossed.
Alive.
Iyisha scrambles to him before her mind can catch up. Her leg buckled, but she ignored it and ran to him. Her hands grab his shirt, fingers clutching the fabric like she’s afraid he might disappear if she lets go.
"You’re okay," she chokes.
A sob tears out of her before she can stop it. Her forehead drops against his chest as her shoulders shake.
"You’re okay..."
Her hands press against him, feeling the solid warmth through the fabric.
Real.
Alive.
Then something feels wrong.
Iyisha slowly pulls back.
Her fingers are still gripping his shirt.
She stares at them.
For a second she just watches them rest there.
Her hands.
Moving when she tells them to.
Her fingers loosen.
Turn slowly.
Her palm opens.
She flexes them once.
Twice.
Iyisha looks up.
Malcolm is watching her.
His gaze is steady, intense. Like he has been waiting for this moment.
There is the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth.
Relief.
Her legs suddenly give out.
The strength leaves her all at once and she crumples forward. Malcolm catches her easily, one arm wrapping around her before she hits the floor.
"You’re okay," he says quietly.
Iyisha clutches at his shirt again as she tries to breathe.
Her other hand moves across her body.
Her chest.
Her arms.
Her throat.
Checking.
Feeling.
Her fingers press against her ribs.
She waits.
Her voice trembles.
"What... happened?"
The words barely come out.
Her eyes lift to him, wide and terrified.
"I was dead."
The memory is sharp.
Her lungs refusing to move.
Her heart silent in her chest.
Her jaw snapping toward him.
Her voice breaks.
"I was a zombie."
Her fingers tighten in his shirt again.
"Why am I still alive?"
Malcolm’s hand rose.
His fingers brushed her cheek.
Iyisha flinched.
The touch was soft and careful. So unlike him that it startled her more than the cell.
Then it was gone.
Before she could react he lifted her easily and carried her back to the narrow bed. The metal frame creaked as he lowered her onto it.
Iyisha blinked at the ceiling, trying to steady her breathing.
"What happened?" she asked.
Malcolm stood beside the bed for a moment.
"You came back."
Their eyes met.
Then he stepped away and sat down in the chair again.
Iyisha pushed herself upright slowly.
"I don’t understand..."
The word stuck.
Her gaze dropped to her hands.
They trembled slightly in her lap.
Weak.
But they were hers again.
Ishmael.
The Chosen. Mutation.
Is she like them?
Iyisha suddenly turned and drove her fist into the wall beside the bed.
The crack echoed through the cell and pain shot through her knuckles.
"Ow—"
She grabbed her hand.
"What are you doing?" Malcolm asked.
Iyisha sucked in a breath through her teeth, examining the reddening skin across her knuckles.
"I thought I was evolved."
Malcolm didn’t answer.
She flexed her fingers carefully.
Nothing broke.
"You are," Malcolm said.
Iyisha looked up at him, blinking.
"What?"
"Just not the same as that man."
She stared at him.
"What does that even mean?"
Malcolm watched her quietly for a moment.
Then he said,
"The walkers in the parking lot listened to you."
Iyisha frowned.
"Listened?"
She searched her memory and found nothing but pain.
"You mean when I screamed?"
Malcolm shook his head.
"No."
Iyisha tilted her head slightly.
"...Then what?"
Malcolm’s eyes held hers.
"You told them to attack."
Silence fell between them.
Iyisha stared at him.
Then she laughed once.
Short.
Confused.
"That’s not funny."
Malcolm didn’t smile.
Iyisha’s laughter faded.
"...Malcolm?"
His voice stayed calm.
"You raised your hand."
Iyisha’s stomach tightened.
"And every walker in that parking lot turned toward the men."
The room felt suddenly smaller.
Iyisha looked down at her hand again.
Slowly she lifted it.
Her fingers spread slightly.
"That’s impossible."
Iyisha looked at him, confused.
She remembered that moment.
But she hadn’t been telling anyone to attack.
She had been begging for help.
"For you," she said quietly. "I wasn’t telling them to attack. I was asking for help."
Malcolm didn’t answer right away.
"I don’t know what happened," he said finally. "But those walkers moved when you raised your hand."
He pushed himself out of the chair and walked toward her.
"How do you feel?"
Iyisha watched him as he came closer. He reached behind her carefully, checking the place where she remembered being wounded.
"I’m okay," she said. "Just... tired."
Her eyes lifted to him.
"How’s the wound?"
"It was a nick," Malcolm said. "It’s healed."
Iyisha’s hand shot to her back.
Her brow furrowed.
She was certain the wound had been worse than that.
Her fingers searched the fabric but found nothing.
"I need to lie down," she muttered suddenly as the weakness rolled through her again.
Malcolm nodded and helped guide her back onto the narrow bed.
The metal frame creaked softly.
Iyisha lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling before slowly looking around the room.
"We’re in a cell," she breathed.
Malcolm nodded.
"We’re in Pennsylvania," he said. "Hydetown. Marybeth’s community."
Relief softened her face.
"Thank God," she murmured. "We’re out of Ohio."
Her eyes moved back to him.
"How long before they release us?"
Malcolm leaned against the wall again.
"We’ve already been here six days."
Iyisha blinked.
"Six?"
"Another day," he said. "Then they’ll decide."
Iyisha smiled faintly.
"I’m sorry we got stuck here," she said quietly. "Because of me."
Malcolm sighed and pushed himself upright again.
"Stop saying that."
Iyisha looked at him closely.
His voice had always been deep and steady.
But now there was something else in it.
Something softer.
Something tired.
Silence settled between them.
Finally she spoke again.
"...It’s good that you didn’t kill me."
Malcolm looked at her.
"I didn’t have time," he said.
Iyisha smiled faintly.
She remembered the gun.
Remembered him failing to pull the trigger.
"I remember everything," she said.
Malcolm’s eyes sharpened slightly.
"Remember what?"
"It’s like..." Iyisha hesitated, searching for the words. "Like I was watching from far away."
Her gaze drifted down to her hands.
"I saw everything."
Her voice dropped.
"It was horrible trying to stop myself from hurting you."
She looked back up at him.
"Like I was a prisoner in my own mind."
The words hung heavily in the room.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
Because the implication was clear.
Fresh walkers might still be conscious.
Iyisha swallowed.
"But I felt dying," she added quietly.
Her gaze softened.
"And I heard you."
Malcolm didn’t answer.
For a moment he simply looked at her.
Then he turned away.
Iyisha watched him go, a small smile touching her lips despite the exhaustion pulling at her.
"Take your rest," Malcolm said quietly.
She nodded.
Her eyes were already heavy.
The weakness in her body spread deeper now that the tension had faded. Her fingers loosened against the thin blanket as her breathing slowed.
Malcolm remained where he was, standing near the wall.
Watching.
Iyisha drifted off before she could ask another question.
Sleep took her quickly.
