Free Web NovelChapter 222: Chapter 222 - Hempstead
Iyisha stirred as the pressure in her head pulsed harder, the voices around her overlapping into a low, constant noise that pressed against her skull. She opened her eyes to find Malcolm holding her up, one arm firm around her back as he kept her steady while she adjusted.
She blinked and lifted her head slowly, forcing her vision to settle as the rooftop came into view, wide and exposed under the early light. The TAL group stood near the edge of the building, their bodies angled forward as they looked down, some pointing while others stayed still, their attention fixed on something below as if it had pulled them in.
"You okay?" Malcolm asked.
She squinted at him as the light pushed into her eyes, the faint glow of dawn rising behind him and cutting across his face while she tried to focus.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice coming out rough and heavy from her throat.
Iyisha let out a slow breath as the words settled in her head, then looked around the rooftop where buildings rose on every side, their windows dull and lifeless under the early light.
"They dropped us here using a helicopter," Malcolm said.
She turned back to him, her brows pulling together as the question came out dry from her throat.
"Why?" she croaked.
Malcolm glanced toward the edge where the others were gathered, his eyes narrowing slightly as if measuring something beyond sight.
"It has something to do with data gathering," he said.
She lowered herself to sit, her legs giving in as she steadied herself with one hand on the concrete while her gaze moved across the group.
Lance lay beside her, still out cold, his chest rising slow and uneven, while Marybeth stayed close and Aljun stood a few steps away with the others, all of them drawn toward the same direction.
Iyisha looked back at Malcolm and caught the dark circles under his eyes, deeper now under the growing light as his face stayed set and unmoving.
"They didn’t knock you out?" she asked.
The corner of his mouth lifted just slightly.
"They tried," he said.
She gave a faint smile, small and brief, the thought settling in her chest as she looked at him. Malcolm had been awake since Brooklyn, his body running on nothing but force.
Her smile faded.
"You need to rest," she said.
He nodded once, but his eyes stayed sharp, fixed past her as if the answer had already been decided.
Iyisha pushed herself up and walked toward the edge, her steps steady now as the noise from below started to press upward into the quiet.
She reached the side and looked down.
Undead lined the fence below, their bodies pressed against the wall of the building as they faced the building, heads tilted up in uneven angles while more shapes moved behind them, filling the space in slow, constant motion.
Hundreds gathered.
More kept coming.
Her skin prickled as the weight of it settled in.
"Hide," she hissed, turning back as she grabbed at the nearest person and pulled them away from the edge, her voice low but sharp as it cut through the group.
Marybeth lifted a shoulder slightly as she stepped back.
"I was telling them, "She said as she stepped back.
"Where’s Arnulf?" she asked as some ignored her while others only glanced at her with thin, unimpressed looks.
Marybeth lifted her hand and pointed toward the center of the rooftop where a man stood with his shoulders sagged, his head lowered as if the weight had already settled on him.
Iyisha moved without waiting and closed the distance, then grabbed his arm and shook him once to force his attention up.
"Tell your men to step back if they don’t want thousands of undead coming here," she said.
Arnulf looked at her, his eyes dull and tired, then let out a slow breath that barely held.
"We’re dead anyway," he muttered.
Her jaw tightened as her hand twitched at her side, the urge to strike him sharp and immediate, but she held it and straightened instead.
"Get away from the edge," she said, her voice rising just enough to cut through the air without breaking into panic.
She turned her head and swept her gaze across the group, her eyes sharp as they moved from one face to another.
"You can see them. They can see you," she said, lower now but harder. freewebnovel.cσ๓
A few grumbled under their breath, but they stepped back anyway and moved toward the corners of the rooftop, some sitting, some crouching, their eyes still pulling toward the edge even as they forced themselves away.
Iyisha felt the shift as it spread through them, a quick, tight rush as the group followed her lead without fully admitting it.
Aljun jogged over, slowing as he reached her, his head dipping once in approval while his eyes stayed on her.
"Now I know why Malcolm liked you," he said. "Fiesty woman."
She shot him a sharp look, the edge still in her gaze as she didn’t bother answering him.
"We have wounded, right?" she asked.
He nodded.
They moved together toward the side where the injured had been laid out, the group thinning around them as space opened.
Five lay there.
Most had minor wounds, shallow cuts and grazes that had already dried or been wrapped in whatever they could find.
One woman stood out.
She lay still on her back, her skin pale under the morning light as a thick bandage wrapped around her upper right arm, darkened in places where blood had soaked through.
"What happened?" Iyisha asked as she crouched beside the woman, her hand already reaching for the bandage.
The woman shook her head slowly, her lips pressed tight as she tried to steady her breathing.
"I don’t know," she said, her voice thin as she swallowed. "I woke up with this."
Iyisha pulled at the wrapping and peeled it back, the cloth sticking slightly before giving way as the wound came into view, about an inch wide and still open.
"You didn’t have this in the lab?" she asked as she leaned closer.
The woman shook her head again.
"I was fine in the lab."
Iyisha wiped away the blood with the edge of the bandage and checked the cut, her fingers careful as she cleared the surface to see deeper.
The wound was small, but the bleeding did not slow.
The edges looked wrong.
There was a narrow opening inside, deeper than it should be, as if something had been pushed through and taken out.
She lifted her gaze to the woman.
"I need to check inside," she said.
The woman nodded, her face tightening as she braced herself.
Iyisha pressed her fingers to the edges and pulled the wound apart just enough to look in.
The woman let out a low sound as her body tensed.
It was deep.
Clean.
Empty.
"There’s nothing," Iyisha said as she released the skin and let it fall back.
She looked around quickly for their bags, her eyes scanning the rooftop, but found nothing as most of them stood with nothing but what they had on.
The bleeding continued.
Slow, but constant.
She needed something to press it.
"Do you have a handkerchief or anything?" Iyisha asked.
The woman shook her head.
Marybeth, beside her, shifted.
"Wait," she said.
Iyisha glanced at her as she stood and jogged toward Lance, who still lay out cold, while Malcolm stayed near him and watched.
Marybeth turned him onto his side and reached into his back pocket, her hand moving quick before she pulled something free.
She came back at a short run.
A handkerchief was clutched in her hand.
Iyisha pulled at the hem of her shirt and tore a strip free, the fabric resisting for a second before giving way as she worked it loose. She pressed the clean handkerchief over the wound and wrapped it tight with the torn cloth, her hands steady as she secured it in place until the bleeding slowed under the pressure.
She pushed herself up and turned, her gaze finding Malcolm crouched near the edge as he checked the perimeter below, his posture still and focused as if he had not moved since she last saw him. Around them, people sat in loose clusters, some speaking in low voices while most stayed quiet, their shoulders slumped and their eyes distant as the weight of the situation settled in.
Iyisha walked over and crouched beside him, her movement careful as she kept her balance on the rough surface.
The building was surrounded.
Undead filled the perimeter below, their bodies packed along the fence as they faced the structure, their heads angled upward while the usual moaning had fallen silent, leaving them standing in place as if held there.
"You know this area?" Malcolm asked without looking at her.
She nodded as her eyes traced the buildings across the street, catching the broken signage and the familiar shape of the structure ahead.
"I think we’re in Hempstead," she said. "That building in front... Sacred Heart Academy."
Some of the letters had fallen, leaving gaps in the name as it hung crooked against the wall.
"My..." she started, then paused as her gaze flicked to Malcolm before dropping away, her teeth pressing lightly against her lip as she searched for the word.
"My, uh... stepbrother studied there."
She drew in a slow breath and looked back out, her eyes settling on the smaller shapes among the undead below, their movements uneven and wrong.
She did not know him.
She only knew that when their father left, he had built another life here.
Another family.
She never cared.
Except for Cena.
She had cared about them, and through her, she had learned the rest.
Malcolm stilled beside her when the word slipped out, his head turning just enough to look at her as his eyes settled and stayed.
Iyisha felt it immediately. His gaze held on her, steady and direct, as if waiting for something more to follow.
She kept her eyes forward. Her jaw tightened slightly. She wished he would not ask.
He didn’t.
His hand lifted instead and brushed lightly against her hair, a brief touch that lingered just enough before pulling away.
Iyisha let out a small breath she did not realize she was holding.
A faint smile touched her lips, quick and quiet.
She scanned the rooftop, her eyes moving from one group to another as she took in what they had and what they did not.
"We need food," she said, her voice low but firm as she looked at Malcolm. "And weapons. And water."
Malcolm stayed crouched, his gaze fixed on the streets below as he studied the movement beyond the fence, his focus shifting from one point to another as if mapping something out.
Iyisha followed his line of sight and let out a slow breath.
"It’s packed," she said.
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"The helicopter drew them in," he muttered.
He shifted his weight and leaned forward just enough to see farther down the street, his attention moving past the nearest cluster toward the outer lines.
"If we want out," he said, "we need a way to draw them away."
