Free Web NovelChapter 199: Chapter 199 - Trapped In
They hit the corner fast.
Walkers were already moving in, pulled by the noise. Heads turned. Then they locked on them.
Iyisha felt it before they rushed.
"Fuck," she breathed. "Go."
They pushed straight through.
Marybeth stepped in first, cracking one across the face and shoving it aside.
Aljun drove his blade up under another’s chin, ripped it free, kept moving.
Iyisha slipped between them, cutting through the opening they made.
A screech split the air.
Her head snapped to the sound.
Something moved fast along the side.
A twitcher broke from the corner and sprinted straight at them.
"Fuck," Aljun said.
Iyisha looked ahead.
Odelle’s sat just down the stretch.
Too far.
They were not making it.
Her hand dropped to her thigh.
She pulled the pistol and raised it in one motion.
Her feet planted hard, just like Malcolm taught her.
She fired.
She missed.
"Shit."
Her teeth clenched. The twitcher was already closing in.
Five feet.
Too close.
She steadied her hands.
Fired again.
The shot hit hard. The twitcher folded mid run and slammed onto the pavement.
Iyisha did not relax.
The sound carried.
Too far.
Everything turned.
Walkers from the street, from between the cars, from behind, all of them shifting toward the gunshot.
Iyisha felt it hit her chest.
"Go!"
They ran.
Full speed.
Aljun reached the door first and pulled it open as Marybeth and Iyisha rushed in.
Iyisha grabbed a metal rod near the entrance, turned, and forced it through the handles, locking the glass doors shut.
Bodies hit the glass a second later.
Hard.
The door shook.
More pressed in behind them.
Hands slapped against the surface. Faces dragged across it.
Iyisha stepped back, gun still up, breath tight in her chest.
The door held.
She bent slightly, hands bracing on her thighs as they shook. She forced a breath in. Held it. Let it out slow.
The glass rattled again under the weight outside. More bodies pushed in, smearing against it.
"That was close," she muttered.
No one answered.
Marybeth glanced around. "We need to cover that. They see us, they won’t stop."
Iyisha kept her eyes on the door a second longer, watching them press and reach, before forcing herself to turn away.
"We don’t have time."
Aljun moved ahead, scanning the aisles. Shelves were half stripped. Boxes torn open. Things scattered across the floor.
"Someone’s been through here," he said low.
Iyisha nodded and slid her pistol back to her thigh, bringing the machete up instead.
"Move."
They spread out.
Iyisha took the left, Marybeth the middle, Aljun the right. Each step careful but quick, clearing corners, checking behind racks and counters.
The banging on the glass carried through the store, steady and heavy, pushing them faster.
A shape lunged from behind a rack.
Iyisha reacted on instinct, stepping in and driving the machete up through its neck. She shoved it back and moved on.
"Fuck..." Her heart slammed against her chest, breath catching as she kept moving.
Marybeth dropped another near the counter, blade coming down hard, then ripping free.
Aljun took one near the shelves, quick and quiet.
They kept moving.
They tore through what was left of the stock, kicking aside boxes, checking under shelves, pulling open what hadn’t already been emptied.
"Here," Aljun called low.
Iyisha moved to him.
Snorkeling gear. Masks. Tubes. A few sets left, scattered but usable.
She grabbed one, checked the strap, then handed another to Marybeth.
"Take what you can."
They got everything.
Thank God.
Iyisha glanced at the window.
The glass shook again.
Harder this time.
More bodies had gathered outside.
The sound filled the store.
Her grip tightened on the machete.
"Let’s go back," Iyisha said.
They nodded.
They moved back toward the entrance, slowing as the glass door came into view.
It was covered now. Bodies pressed tight against it, hands dragging, faces smeared across the surface while more pushed in from behind.
Marybeth let out a breath. "That’s not happening."
Iyisha nodded, eyes fixed on the glass for a second too long before forcing herself to look away.
Her gaze shifted past it, scanning, then settling on a door at the back.
Storage.
"Back."
They moved quickly, keeping low, stepping around scattered gear and broken shelves.
Iyisha reached the door first and slowed, one hand on the handle, the other raising her gun. The machete dipped at her side.
"Careful."
She pushed it open.
The hinge creaked just enough to make them all stop.
They waited.
Nothing came.
Iyisha pushed a little more and stepped in.
Dark.
They pulled out their flashlights, beams cutting into a narrow hallway. Two doors sat side by side, closed. At the end, another door with a faded EXIT sign above it.
Iyisha moved first. The others followed close, footsteps quiet, packs brushing lightly against their backs.
She reached the exit and tested the handle.
It gave.
She looked back at them, her expression set.
"We got everything, but we’re heavier now," she said, glancing at their packs, stuffed with gear and padded with clothes to keep things from clanking. "Once we’re out, we don’t stop."
Marybeth gave a small, tight smile. "We don’t have time, do we?"
Iyisha shook her head. The light outside was already dropping. They’d spent too long getting here.
If they slowed now, they wouldn’t reach Gowanus before dark.
"We can do it," Iyisha said.
She turned back and eased the door open just enough to see through the gap.
Then she stopped.
"Damn it."
The street outside was worse than the front.
Packed tight.
Bodies filled the road, pressed shoulder to shoulder, shifting over each other with no clear space to move.
And moving through them—
Twitchers.
Fast, restless, cutting between the slower ones.
Iyisha counted without meaning to.
At least five.
She pulled the door shut again, careful with the sound, then turned back to them.
Marybeth shook her head immediately.
Aljun’s jaw tightened as he looked at the door.
"We’ll die if we go through that," Marybeth said, frowning.
Iyisha’s chest rose, breath still uneven. "Then we find another way."
Her light shifted to the two doors along the hallway.
A quick look between them.
Then a nod.
Iyisha moved to the right with Marybeth. Aljun took the other.
They opened at the same time.
A low groan answered from inside.
Iyisha stepped in first, flashlight sweeping—
Marybeth moved past her and brought the machete down hard. The sound cut off. The body dropped at their feet.
The room went still again.
Iyisha steadied her light and scanned.
Office.
Chairs knocked over. Papers scattered. No windows.
The body on the floor still wore a name tag, shirt stiff with dried stains.
"Dammit," she muttered. No exit. Not even a window.
From the hallway, the groaning carried. Louder now. Pressed through walls. Building.
Iyisha stepped back.
Aljun came out of the other room, face tight, already shaking his head.
She crossed over and checked it herself.
Same size but packed with stacked boxes and crammed shelves, leaving no way out.
Iyisha exhaled through her teeth and turned, heading back toward the front.
The windows were worse.
Bodies pressed tighter, hands dragging down the glass, mouths opening and closing as those broken sounds pushed through. A sharp crack split across the window.
They all froze.
"What now?" Aljun asked, voice tight with urgency.
She looked up.
Stopped.
The ceiling dipped on one side with the panels sagging.
Iyisha stepped closer and nudged it with her machete.
The panel shifted.
A gap.
Light slipped through.
Her chest loosened just a little.
"There."
Marybeth caught it and smirked.
Aljun moved fast, dragging a narrow shelf under the weak spot.
Another slam hit the glass behind them. Louder. Closer.
Iyisha stepped up, boots hitting the shelf hard. She tested it once, then shoved the panel wider.
Dust fell.
She pulled herself up, arms straining.
She turned immediately, leaning down.
"Go."
