Free Web NovelChapter 244: Chapter 244 - Caught
They stayed hidden longer than anyone wanted.
The helicopter hovered above the road, slow and low, blades beating dust through the broken street. The speaker did not repeat the order, but the words stayed in the air anyway.
Give us Iyisha Clarcke.
Iyisha stayed crouched behind the counter with Malcolm in front of her. His body blocked most of her view. She could still see the others through the broken doorway, pressed under cars and against walls, all of them too still.
The helicopter drifted once over the block.
Then it moved away.
No one moved until the sound thinned.
Malcolm lifted his hand.
"Run."
They came out of hiding in pieces and broke into motion again. No one shouted now. The helicopter had taken that from them. They ran with their heads low, bags slamming against their sides, weapons tight in their hands.
Iyisha caught up to Marybeth and Aljun.
Lance hung between them. His feet still moved, but barely. Sweat soaked through his shirt. Marybeth’s hair stuck to her face, and Aljun’s mouth was open as he dragged air into his lungs.
"They must have seen you," Marybeth said.
Iyisha looked at her.
Marybeth did not look away. "When you saved Malcolm."
Aljun swallowed hard and adjusted Lance’s arm over his shoulder. "If they put us in Long Island for observation, then they’re watching more than we thought."
Iyisha gritted her teeth.
The thought had already been crawling through her.
She had value now.
They wanted her.
But another question had been sitting under that since the lab. Why throw her into Long Island at all? Why leave her with the others if they knew what she was? She was a Clarcke. Based on Cena, that blood meant something. That DNA meant something. It could evolve. It could survive things it should not survive.
So why dump her here?
"They might have been on the way to capture you," Lance said.
His voice was weak, but clear enough.
Iyisha looked at him.
Lance’s eyes were still unfocused, but his mouth tightened like the thought had cost him something.
"Maybe this was never the whole plan," he said. "Maybe Long Island was just the cage until they came back."
Iyisha did not answer. She didn’t know. But if that was the reason, then it wouldn’t make sense.
"Switch!" a man shouted from the front.
The word snapped through the line.
Iyisha ran ahead before Marybeth could stop her. The group had started moving in a rough triangle, the front clearing the road while the injured stayed in the middle. The ones at the point burned out fastest. They had to switch before their arms failed or their aim went bad.
She reached the front with her machete in one hand and the pistol ready at her thigh.
Malcolm was already there.
He looked like he had no right to be standing so steady. The wounded woman hung over his shoulder, limp and pale, but he moved like the weight belonged there. Sweat darkened his shirt. Blood marked his neck. His grip on the machete stayed firm.
Iyisha came beside him.
He looked at her once.
She did not wait for the argument.
A walker lurched from between two cars. Iyisha stepped in and cut through its neck with the machete. The blade stuck for half a breath. She yanked it free and kicked the body aside.
Another came from the left.
Harry shot it before she reached it.
"Keep the middle moving!" Malcolm shouted.
The group pushed forward behind them.
Then a twitcher broke from the open road.
It came fast, body jerking low, hands slapping pavement before it sprang upright. Its head snapped toward the wounded woman over Malcolm’s shoulder.
Iyisha dropped the machete hand low and drew her pistol.
One shot.
The twitcher’s skull punched back. Its body kept sliding forward and hit the ground near Malcolm’s boot.
Four bullets left.
Malcolm’s eyes cut to her pistol.
"Save those."
"Then run faster."
His jaw flexed.
That was all the answer she got.
They pushed through another stretch of road. The front line fired only when they had to. Blades did the rest. Machetes rose and fell. Walkers dropped under their feet. No one checked if they were fully dead unless they reached again.
Behind them, the horde kept following.
Another shout came from the middle.
"Lance!"
Iyisha turned.
Lance had gone down to one knee. Marybeth and Aljun tried to lift him, but both were spent. Their arms shook under his weight.
Malcolm saw.
He cursed under his breath and shifted the wounded woman higher on his shoulder.
Iyisha moved first.
"Cover front!" she shouted to Harry.
"What— Fuck."
She ran back, grabbed Lance under one arm, and pulled.
Lance’s head lifted slowly. "I’m okay."
"No, you’re not." She checked his skin and found out he is running high fever again.
Marybeth gave him a sharp look. "Don’t waste your strength in talking. We need you to pull your weight."
Lance grinned but stayed silent.
Arnulf on the back caught to them. "Don’t stop."
Together, they dragged him upright.
Aljun’s face was wet with sweat. "I can still carry."
"You can barely stand," Iyisha said.
"So can he."
Lance made a weak sound that might have been a laugh.
A scream cut from the rear.
Everyone looked back.
One of the twitchers had reached the last man in line. It hit him from behind and drove him face-first into the road. Before anyone could fire, Arnulf was there. He slammed his machete down into the twitcher’s neck and hacked twice until it stopped moving.
"Move!" Arnulf shouted, voice raw.
The man he saved crawled up with blood running from his nose and a bite on his cheek. Iyisha bit her lip. They’re going to lose more if this keeps up. They can’t keep hiding from the helicopter.
The horde may keep up with them.
No one helped him gently. Someone grabbed his belt and hauled him forward.
Iyisha shoved Lance back between Marybeth and Aljun.
"Keep going."
Iyisha ran back to the front.
Of course he had.
"He’s fine," she said.
"He better be."
Iyisha almost answered.
The helicopter dropped out from behind the buildings. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com
Too low.
Too sudden.
The sound hit them a second late, blades chopping the air so hard loose dust ripped off the street. Everyone froze at once.
It had seen them.
Malcolm grabbed Iyisha’s wrist. "Move."
Then the group scattered.
Too late.
The helicopter swung over the road and came down in front of them, blocking the street toward Little Neck. Wind slammed into Iyisha’s face. Her hair whipped across her eyes. Bags dragged against shoulders. Someone fell behind her and crawled toward a dead car.
"Cover!" Harry shouted.
"There is no cover!" Arnulf snapped.
The helicopter landed hard in the middle of the road.
Its side door opened before the skids settled.
Four soldiers jumped out with guns raised. Their helmets hid their faces. Their armor was clean, black, and new against the ruined street. Inside the helicopter, another soldier stayed behind the mounted machine gun and turned it toward the group.
Everyone stopped.
Even Malcolm.
The soldiers formed a line in front of the helicopter. One of them stepped forward.
"Iyisha Clarcke."
Iyisha’s hand tightened around her machete.
Malcolm moved in front of her.
The soldier’s gun shifted to his chest.
"We’ve come to escort you back."
Iyisha looked past the soldiers, past the helicopter, toward the road they had been trying to reach. The way out was gone.
Behind them, the dead filled the street. In front of them, guns waited.
Malcolm did not lower his weapon.
The soldier looked at him.
"Step aside."
Malcolm’s jaw clenched.
Iyisha heard Marybeth’s breathing behind her. Lance made a weak sound. Aljun whispered something she could not catch.
The soldier raised his voice.
"Give us the girl, and the rest of you will be extracted."
No one moved.
Then the machine gun inside the helicopter shifted.
The barrel settled on Malcolm.
Iyisha’s stomach turned cold.
"Iyisha Clarcke," he said again. "Come with us."
