Free Web NovelChapter 243: Chapter 243 - Surrender Her
Continue it like this. I kept the run exhausting, the helicopter frightening instead of hopeful, and the horde pressure still behind them.
They ran until running turned into dragging.
The woman was too heavy between them. Iyisha had one arm hooked under her shoulder, but every step pulled at her back and burned through her legs. The woman’s feet scraped more than walked. Blood kept soaking through the cloth at her side.
Iyisha panted through her teeth.
Malcolm saw it.
He did not ask.
He shifted close, grabbed the woman under the ribs, and hauled her over his shoulder like a sack. The woman cried out, a broken sound that made Iyisha flinch, but Malcolm only tightened his hold and kept moving.
"Sorry," Iyisha said, though she did not know who she was saying it to.
The woman groaned against Malcolm’s back.
"Run," Malcolm said.
So they ran.
They ran until the street blurred. They ran until the horde behind them became sound instead of bodies. They ran until Lance nearly dropped twice and Aljun had to shove him forward with both hands. They ran until Tilly stopped looking back because Chanse would not let go of her wrist.
They stopped only when someone fell.
Then they moved again.
Run.
Pause.
Run.
The hour stretched wrong. Every block felt longer than the last. Every corner looked like a trap. Guns came up at every sound. Machetes stayed in hand. Nobody wasted bullets unless something got close enough to touch.
By the time they reached the road that would take them toward Little Neck, the group was breaking apart from exhaustion.
Lance could barely lift his feet. Jerry hung between two men, head sagging forward, blood dried thick along one side of his face. The wounded woman had gone quiet over Malcolm’s shoulder, which scared Iyisha more than the groaning had. Tilly walked with her eyes empty and Chanse’s hand locked around hers. Marybeth’s mouth had gone pale from holding Lance upright.
They were not safe.
They were only farther.
"Stop," Arnulf rasped.
No one argued.
They staggered into the shadow of a broken storefront and collapsed where they could. Some bent over with hands on knees. Some slid down walls. One man dropped to the curb and stayed there, chest heaving.
Behind them, the horde was no longer visible.
But it was still there.
Iyisha knew it. Everyone knew it. The road behind them was too quiet in the wrong way, like the sound had fallen back only to gather again.
Arnulf moved first. He went to the nearest abandoned car and tried the door.
Locked.
He smashed the window with the butt of his knife, reached in, and pulled the handle. The door opened with a dry creak. He dropped into the driver’s seat and leaned under the wheel.
Nothing.
"Come on," he muttered.
He tried another.
Then another.
No engine answered.
"Fuck," he snapped, kicking the tire.
Malcolm lowered the wounded woman beside Iyisha. The woman’s head rolled weakly to one side. Iyisha caught her shoulder and eased her down.
"Careful," she whispered.
The woman did not answer.
Malcolm crouched in front of Iyisha. Sweat ran down the side of his face. His shirt was dark where the woman’s blood had soaked into it.
"Are you all right?"
Iyisha nodded too fast.
He stared at her.
She took the water bottle before he could ask again and drank. Her hand shook against the plastic. She forced herself to swallow slowly because there was not enough water to waste.
Malcolm took the bottle after her and drank once. Not much. Just enough to wet his mouth.
A voice came from the street.
"Helicopter."
Everyone looked up.
For one heartbeat, hope moved through the group.
Then the sound reached them.
Low.
Heavy.
Coming fast.
The helicopter cut over the broken buildings, too close to the rooftops. Its dark body passed through the gray light, and Iyisha saw the guns mounted on its sides.
"We’re saved," someone shouted.
Malcolm turned at once.
"Hide."
The man looked at him like he had not heard right.
Malcolm’s voice dropped. "Hide. Now."
That broke the hope.
People scattered. Someone slid under a car. Two others pressed flat behind a concrete divider. Arnulf ducked behind the open door of the dead car. Marybeth dragged Lance into the shadow beside the storefront. Tilly pulled Chanse behind a cracked wall and crouched low with him.
Iyisha froze for half a second.
A helicopter should have meant rescue.
But there was only one place left that could send one.
The lab.
Malcolm grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the broken building. Glass crunched under their boots. He shoved her behind a half-collapsed counter and lowered beside her, one hand still around her arm.
The helicopter flew over the road.
So low the windows rattled.
Iyisha’s heart slammed against her ribs. She peeked over the edge of the counter. The wind from the blades chased dust down the street. Loose paper spun into the air. A hanging sign banged hard against a wall.
"What are they doing?" she whispered.
Malcolm did not look away from the helicopter. His jaw was clenched so tight a muscle jumped near his cheek.
The helicopter slowed.
For a second, it hovered above the road they had just crossed.
Iyisha saw people hiding everywhere now. Arnulf under the shadow of a car door. Harry pressed against a wall with his gun tight to his chest. Aljun crouched beside Lance, one hand over Lance’s shoulder. Tilly had Chanse against her body, her palm over his mouth.
Malcolm’s grip tightened on her wrist.
The helicopter stayed there for another few seconds, blades beating the air down over them.
Then it moved on. The sound dragged away toward the east.
No one came out at first.
Malcolm waited until the sound thinned before he stood. He looked through the broken doorway, then toward the road behind them.
"We can’t stay in the open," he said through his teeth.
Iyisha pushed herself up. Her legs almost failed under her.
"We have no choice."
He looked at her.
She looked past him, back the way they came.
"The horde is coming. We need to keep going!" Arnulf shouted.
That broke them again.
People ran before Malcolm gave the order. Bags swung hard against hips. Shoes slipped on loose gravel. Someone cursed when they hit the side of a dead car, but they kept moving.
Iyisha ran with the shotgun tight in both hands. Her lungs burned. Her legs felt wrong under her, heavy and loose at the same time. She could hear Lance behind her, half dragged between Marybeth and Aljun.
Jerry was worse. Two men pulled him by the arms, his boots scraping the road every few steps. The wounded woman hung over Malcolm’s shoulder again, limp except for the small groans that shook out of her when he moved too fast.
They crossed one street.
Then another.
"Faster!" Harry shouted.
"I am fucking trying!" someone snapped back.
A gun fired near the front. Then another. A walker dropped beside a burned delivery truck. Malcolm cut another down with his machete without slowing, the wounded woman still over his shoulder.
They reached the next block when the helicopter came back.
The sound hit first.
Low blades over the buildings.
Malcolm stopped so hard the people behind him almost slammed into him.
"Hide."
Everyone scattered.
No one asked this time.
Iyisha ducked into the broken front of a small store. Malcolm followed and pulled her behind a cracked concrete counter. He lowered the wounded woman to the floor, then pressed one hand against Iyisha’s shoulder to keep her down.
Outside, people vanished into whatever shadow they could find. Under cars. Behind walls. Inside doorways. Arnulf dragged Jerry behind a bus stop frame. Marybeth pulled Lance behind an overturned vending machine with Aljun crouched beside them.
The helicopter passed above the road.
It did not slow over them.
It did not point its guns down.
It was searching.
The speaker cracked. freeweɓnovel.cѳm
A hard voice rolled over the street.
"To all survivors in this sector, remain where you are."
Iyisha’s skin went cold.
The voice was not talking to them directly.
It was talking to anyone hiding. Anyone listening. Anyone desperate enough to believe. The helicopter moved slowly above the block, its blades pushing dust and paper across the road.
The speaker cracked again.
"We are authorized to extract civilians from Long Island."
Someone outside shifted.
Malcolm’s hand tightened on Iyisha’s shoulder.
The voice continued.
"Food, medical aid, and transport will be provided to any group willing to cooperate."
Iyisha looked at Malcolm.
His eyes stayed on the helicopter. frёewebηovel.cѳm
Then the next words came.
"Surrender Iyisha Clarcke."
Iyisha stopped breathing.
The street seemed to tilt under her.
The voice carried over the broken buildings, clear and cold.
"Give us Iyisha Clarcke, and we will get you out of Long Island."
No one moved outside.
Then, slowly, Iyisha saw heads turn from hiding places.
Arnulf under the bus stop.
Marybeth behind the vending machine.
Harry pressed against the wall.
Tilly behind the rusted car.
Their eyes found her.
Malcolm stepped in front of her before anyone could speak.
The helicopter circled back.
