Free Web NovelChapter 201: Chapter 201 - Return
Marybeth shifted Iyisha’s arm tighter over her shoulder and pulled her up, forcing her weight to stay balanced as they moved. Iyisha’s head hung slightly, her steps uneven, dragging more than walking.
"Keep up," Marybeth muttered, adjusting her grip, breath starting to shorten.
Aljun moved to the other side and lifted Iyisha’s arm over his shoulder. His hold slipped at first before he steadied it. "Iyisha," he said, breath tight. "Hey. Stay with us."
No response.
Iyisha’s feet dragged against the ground.
"Fuck..." Aljun muttered, already winded. "What did she—"
"Not now," Marybeth cut in, sharp.
She shifted Iyisha’s weight and grabbed a loose piece of debris with her free hand, throwing it hard across the street.
The sound hit metal.
Heads turned.
"Move."
They went.
As fast as they could with her between them.
Iyisha stumbled.
Marybeth tightened her hold and dragged her forward. "Stay up," she muttered under her breath.
Aljun let out a strained breath beside her.
Marybeth glanced at him. "You’re not pulling anyone like that," she said between breaths. "Sound like you’re dying already."
Aljun shot her a look, breathing hard. "I’ve got two bags," he snapped. "And I’m carrying more of her than you are."
"Sure," Marybeth said, but she adjusted her grip anyway.
They cut between two cars. Bodies shifted at the sound but not fast enough to block them.
Marybeth grabbed another piece and threw it farther this time.
A twitcher snapped toward it and sprinted off.
Good.
"Go."
They crossed the next stretch.
Iyisha’s weight sagged heavier.
Aljun adjusted, pulling her arm tighter. "Iyisha," he said again, louder now. "Can you hear me?"
Her head shifted.
Barely.
They moved again.
Faster now.
Another throw.
Another shift in the horde.
They slipped through.
Closer.
Marybeth’s eyes kept moving, scanning and choosing the next path before they reached it.
They turned right. Gowanus was two blocks away.
A walker stepped into their path.
"Watch out," Marybeth said as she released Iyisha.
Aljun took the weight, pulling Iyisha closer to keep her upright.
Marybeth stepped forward, her head slightly lowered, and drove the blade straight into the walker’s neck. She shoved it aside and kept moving.
Aljun followed, dragging Iyisha through the opening.
Marybeth came back immediately and took Iyisha’s arm again, lifting her higher. "Move."
They didn’t stop as Gowanus came into view, Iyisha’s weight dragging harder between them with every step. The sun dipped low, the light thinning across the buildings as shadows stretched along the street.
"Shit," Aljun muttered, glancing up. "We took too long."
Marybeth’s focus was already on the building, then the stairs.
"You’re slow. What can I say."
"Shut up," Aljun muttered.
Iyisha’s feet scraped against the ground, her head hanging forward, her breath uneven.
Marybeth adjusted her grip and looked at the entrance.
Closed.
She already knew what was behind it.
"Listen," she said, shifting Iyisha toward Aljun. "I’ll draw them out. You take her up after."
Aljun nodded.
Marybeth knew she couldn’t carry Iyisha upstairs. She would be more useful pulling them away.
She moved to the front door, pushed it open just enough, and slipped inside.
The hallway closed around her, and her steps slowed as her grip tightened around the blade.
She moved forward and angled toward the stairs, peeking down first. It was dark.
She lifted her gaze. Upstairs looked clear.
She stepped back and struck the wall with her blade, the sound cracking through the hallway as she waited.
Nothing moved.
Marybeth frowned and stepped closer, leaning toward the stairs again.
Still nothing.
She stepped onto the staircase, careful with each step as she moved up slowly.
Then she stopped.
Bodies were stacked across the steps, rotten and still.
She stepped around them, lifting her foot higher to clear the limbs, her eyes already tracking the rest of the stairwell.
The path was clear.
She raised the blade and struck the metal handrail, the sound ringing up through the stairwell.
No answer.
A grin pulled at her mouth.
"Huh."
She glanced upward.
"Good job, Malcolm."
They dragged themselves up the last steps and reached the landing.
The hallway was clear.
They didn’t waste time.
They pushed Iyisha onto the landing, her body slipping from their grip as they dropped beside her. Marybeth crawled forward and knocked hard against the door.
It opened.
Malcolm stepped out.
His face darkened the moment he saw Iyisha.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice low as he crouched and lifted her carefully.
Marybeth stayed where she was, breathing hard. "She’s fine," she said, meeting his eyes. "She lost consciousness."
A beat.
"She did it again."
Malcolm’s jaw tightened.
He turned and carried Iyisha inside without another word.
Lance came out, looking between them. "You both good?" he asked.
Marybeth pushed herself up, but her legs shook under her.
Lance caught her arm before she could fall, then reached back and pulled the bag off her shoulders.
"I got it," he said.
Aljun stepped in behind them.
They moved inside.
Marybeth dropped to the carpeted floor, her body giving out now that it was over.
Across the room, Malcolm lowered Iyisha down carefully.
"Iyisha," he said, firm, trying to pull her back.
No response.
Marybeth let her head fall back against the floor, her chest rising and falling fast. "She’s exhausted," she muttered.
Malcolm looked at her.
"She slept for days last time," he said quietly.
"Take her inside," Marybeth said. "She needs rest."
Malcolm nodded and carried Iyisha into the room.
Marybeth followed despite the exhaustion, one hand brushing the wall to steady herself as she came in after them.
Malcolm laid Iyisha carefully on the bed.
"What happened?" he asked as he pulled off her boots.
Marybeth sank into the chair beside the bed. "We were surrounded," she said, the words coming slower now. "I fell from the roof into a horde."
She exhaled, her gaze drifting for a second before returning to him.
"She said stop," Marybeth continued. "And they stopped."
Malcolm didn’t look up.
"I thought time froze," she said quietly, remembering it. "She held them there. Then they just... walked out of the store."
Iyisha didn’t move.
"She froze after," Marybeth added. "Same as the first time."
Malcolm stood and grabbed a cloth, wetting it before coming back to the bed. He wiped Iyisha’s face slowly, his expression unreadable.
Marybeth watched him.
"I think..." she started, then stopped, replaying it again. "That was her third time."
Malcolm’s hand paused.
"Third time?" he asked, his voice lower now.
Marybeth shifted in her seat. "Don’t look at me like that," she said. "She chose to use it."
Malcolm lifted his gaze to her.
"When was the second?" he asked.
Marybeth crossed one leg over the other, thinking. "I’m not sure," she admitted. "But I think she used it briefly. As a distraction."
She looked back at him.
"I saw a walker slam into a car over and over like it couldn’t stop."
Malcolm stopped and looked at her, something dark settling behind his eyes.
Marybeth pushed herself up. "I’ll leave you two alone," she said, already moving.
She stepped out before he could answer.
Outside, Lance was handing Aljun something hot.
Marybeth dropped down beside them. Lance passed her a cup, steam rising from it.
She let out a quiet chuckle.
"What?" Lance asked, glancing at her.
"You’re like my mom," she muttered.
Lance blinked at her. "Thank you?" he said, unsure.
Marybeth shook her head, a small smile forming. "That’s not a compliment."
Lance frowned slightly.
"My mom used to serve my dad like a king," she went on. "Hot coffee the moment he sat down."
Something shifted across Lance’s face.
Just for a second.
Then he smiled. "Well, you did work hard, hon," he said, playing along.
Marybeth huffed out a breath, amused despite herself.
Sometimes she couldn’t figure him out.
He could be easy, almost careless, acting younger than he was, especially when Malcolm was around, like he leaned into it.
But there were moments she caught something else.
A look that stayed too long.
Tired. Bitter.
Like he carried something he didn’t talk about.
It showed, then disappeared just as fast.
Marybeth looked down at the cup in her hands, the steam brushing against her face.
"You think this is all worth it?" she asked.
Lance paused, his body stiffening slightly.
Aljun cleared his throat and stepped away, heading inside toward the room, giving them space.
Lance looked back at her, a small smile forming.
"Yeah," he said. "Besides, we’re helping Iyisha too, right? She’s looking for her sister."
He shrugged lightly.
"Whether we find something to fix me or not, it won’t be for nothing."
Marybeth watched him, sipping from the cup, her eyes staying on him a second longer than before.
"Really," she said quietly.
Lance held her gaze for a moment, then pushed himself up.
"You should rest," he muttered.
He walked off toward the room, joining Aljun.
Marybeth let out a soft chuckle under her breath, shaking her head slightly.
She stared into the cup, the steam rising against her face. The only sound left is the wind seeping in through broken windows.
Her grip tightened.
Too close.
That was too close.
She drew in a slow breath and held it there for a second longer than needed.
Then let it out.
