Free Web NovelChapter 223: Chapter 223 - Fight
Aljun came in fast, slowing only when he reached them as his eyes flicked toward a group off to the side, his posture tight like he did not want to draw attention but could not ignore it.
"I don’t want to add to the problem," he said, his voice low as he leaned in slightly. "But some of them are pissed."
Iyisha followed his gaze and saw five people gathered together, their faces set as they stared at Arnulf with open anger, their bodies angled just enough to keep distance while still holding their focus on him.
She let out a short breath through her nose.
"Come on," she said as she motioned to Malcolm.
If they were getting out of here, it would not happen with people splitting off and turning on each other.
They moved toward the center of the rooftop where most of the group had settled, the space uneven with people sitting or crouching wherever they could find room.
"Come closer," she said, raising her voice just enough to carry across the rooftop without breaking into a shout.
Her eyes flicked back to where Lance still lay on the ground, unmoving in the same spot they had left him, his body untouched by the shifting around him.
She reached out and touched Marybeth’s hand.
"Can you check on Lance?" she asked, a quiet urgency slipping through.
Marybeth gave a small shrug and moved off toward the back corner where he lay, her steps quick but steady.
People started to gather, some sitting, some crouching, forming a loose circle around them that never fully closed, leaving gaps where hesitation still lingered.
The group of five stayed where they were, their posture tight as they watched with open hostility, their eyes cutting toward the others and back again like they were measuring who would take which side.
Iyisha glanced at Malcolm.
He gave a slight nod.
They walked toward the group.
The five straightened as they approached, their bodies shifting as if bracing, their stance tightening like they expected something to start the moment distance closed. freewebnøvel.com
"Calm down," Iyisha said, her voice low as she stopped just short of them.
One stepped forward immediately, his shoulders squared as he closed the space, his expression already set like he had been waiting for this.
"Calm down?" he said, his voice rising. "You’re telling us to calm down after getting dumped here in Long Island?"
"Lower your voice," she said, her eyes locking onto him, sharp and steady.
He scoffed and stepped closer, not stopping even when the space between them narrowed.
"I know what’s in here," he said, his voice tight.
Malcolm moved without a word and stepped in front of her.
The man’s eyes shifted up to him, then back to Iyisha, his lip curling slightly.
"You’re only talking like that because you’ve got your dog," he said.
Iyisha’s eyes hardened.
Malcolm’s hand shot out and grabbed the front of the man’s shirt, lifting him clean off the ground in one motion, the fabric pulling tight as his feet left the concrete.
"Fuck—let go of me," the man choked out, his hands grabbing at Malcolm’s wrist as his legs kicked slightly in the air.
Murmurs broke out around them as the tension snapped tight, voices rising and bodies shifting as people leaned in or pulled back.
"Put him down," Iyisha said, her voice low but firm as she looked at Malcolm.
Malcolm held for a second, his grip unmoving, then threw him down.
The man hit the ground hard and staggered as he tried to catch himself, his group stepping forward at once, their movements sharp and ready to turn into something worse.
Iyisha raised her hand.
"Don’t," she said.
They stopped.
"This man will beat you to a pulp," she added, her voice steady as her gaze moved across each of them, holding just long enough to make it clear.
The others hesitated.
Hands reached out from behind them as a few pulled them back, muttering low as they tried to calm them down, even the one on the ground pushing himself up slowly with a glare still locked in place.
Iyisha clicked her tongue under her breath and walked straight to Arnulf, then grabbed his arm and dragged him a few steps away from the others until they stood off to the side.
"Straighten up or I’ll beat your ass," she said.
Arnulf looked at her, his shoulders still sagged as he let out a breath that carried no weight.
"I’m sorry," he said. "It’s hopeless."
He glanced toward the street.
Iyisha stepped in and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down so his face was inches from hers, her grip tight as she held him there.
"You need to get your shit together or this group falls apart," she said.
Arnulf looked at her for a second, then exhaled again.
"We’re dead," he muttered.
Iyisha cursed under her breath, her grip tightening before she shoved him back.
"I’m giving you five minutes," she said. "Fix yourself or I throw you over the edge. You understand?"
Her voice stayed low, but it carried enough.
Arnulf didn’t answer.
She turned away.
Malcolm stood at the center, his posture still hard as he faced the group, his eyes moving across them without speaking, holding them in place by presence alone.
"Dog," Iyisha muttered under her breath, a short snicker slipping out as the word came back to her.
If there was a dog here, it was her.
His bitch.
The thought pulled a small smile from her.
It faded just as fast.
Her eyes caught movement at the far side where Marybeth crouched over Lance, her hand on his shoulder as she tried to wake him.
There was blood.
Iyisha’s chest tightened as she broke into a jog, her steps quick as her focus locked in, her pulse rising as she closed the distance.
She slowed as she reached them then blinked once.
Then again.
The blood sat wrong.
Not spreading. Not soaking through like a wound.
She let out a breath.
"Wait," she said quietly, her tone shifting as she looked at Marybeth.
Marybeth looked up at her, her hand still on Lance’s shoulder as she paused mid-shake, her brows pulling slightly as she followed Iyisha’s gaze.
"What?" she asked.
Iyisha crouched down beside her, her eyes dropping to the stain again as she reached out and hovered her hand for a second before lightly touching the fabric.
"You’re bleeding," she said.
Marybeth stilled for a moment as the words settled, then let out a short breath as she leaned back slightly, one hand moving to the back of her shorts as if confirming it herself.
"Seriously?" she muttered.
Iyisha gave a small nod.
Marybeth huffed once and shook her head.
"Of all times," she said.
Lance groaned under her hand, his body shifting slightly as his head turned to the side, his eyes still closed.
Marybeth looked down at him and pressed his shoulder again.
"Hey," she said. "Wake up."
He didn’t respond.
Iyisha leaned in and touched his neck, her fingers pressing lightly as she checked.
"He’s fine," she said. "Just out."
Marybeth exhaled and sat back a little, her shoulders dropping as she ran a hand through her hair.
Iyisha looked around briefly, checking who was close enough to notice, then leaned back toward her.
"We’ll deal with it," she said quietly. "Just stay here for now."
Marybeth gave a small nod.
"Yeah," she said.
Iyisha pushed up to stand, her eyes already shifting back toward the group as the noise of low voices started to build again across the rooftop.
She glanced once at Arnulf, still standing off to the side with his shoulders dropped and his eyes somewhere far below the rooftop, then turned and walked back toward the group at the center.
"We can’t stay here," she said.
Heads turned.
A few shifted where they sat.
"Excellent observation," the bald man said, his tone flat with sarcasm.
Iyisha’s eyes snapped to him.
"Okay," she said. "Smart guy. What do you propose we do to get out of here?"
She crossed her arms and held his gaze.
He paused.
Just for a second.
Then he stood and pointed at her.
"Don’t get smart with me," he said, his voice low but tight. "You and your group are the reason we pushed that attack early."
His jaw clenched.
"If we hadn’t—" he cut himself off, his breath catching as the rest stayed unsaid.
Silence settled.
Iyisha straightened slightly.
This wasn’t anger.
She saw it.
Grief sat under it.
"We’d get them out," she said, her voice steady as she looked at him, then at the others.
A short laugh broke out.
"Hah," the bald man said as he turned away, sweeping his hand toward the group. "You hear this?"
He shook his head.
"She’s crazy," he said, spitting to the side. "We’re going to die here."
He started pacing, his steps uneven as he moved.
"Maybe that’s the point," he said. "Maybe we were sent here as food."
Murmurs followed.
"You saw that thing in the lab," he added. "That massive one."
A few nodded.
Voices rose in low agreement.
Iyisha’s heart started to pound.
The weight hit her all at once, heavy at the back of her neck as every eye began to shift toward her, waiting without saying it, pressing without moving.
Her throat tightened.
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
She forced a breath in.
Then another.
She stepped forward.
