Free Web NovelChapter 252: Double Update 251 - Impossible Feat
Marybeth cleared her throat. "Malcolm. Iyisha. Go rest. We’ll take first watch."
Iyisha grumbled. "No. Go—"
Marybeth’s eyes widened at her.
Iyisha stopped.
The warning was clear.
Talk.
She dragged in a shaky breath and stood. "Right. Let’s go."
She looked at Malcolm.
He was still sitting with his elbows on his knees. His hand was around the rifle strap. His thumb kept rubbing the same spot on the leather.
He heard Marybeth.
He just did not move yet.
Iyisha waited.
Malcolm stood after a second. He picked up the rifle, checked the hallway, then looked back at the others once. Marybeth gave him a small nod. Lance watched from the sofa, pale and quiet.
Iyisha turned away before anyone could look at her too long.
They went upstairs to the second floor and took the farthest room. No one needed to hear them.
The door closed behind them with a soft scrape.
Malcolm stayed against it. His shoulder pressed into the wood. His head dipped. Blood had dried along the side of his neck. His shirt clung to his back from sweat, river water, and the dirt from the escape.
Iyisha stood near the bed and watched his hand find the lock.
His fingers missed it once.
Her stomach tightened.
He got it on the second try and slid the bolt into place. Then he dragged the chair under the knob. The legs scratched against the floor.
"Window," he said.
Iyisha looked at him.
His voice was low and rough. "Check it."
She crossed the room. Her legs felt heavy. Every step hurt late. She pulled the curtain aside and looked down at the street.
Dark.
Two walkers moved near the corner. One bent over something by the gutter. The other stood with its head tipped toward the building, but it did not come closer.
"Clear enough," she said.
Malcolm pulled the rifle strap off his shoulder and set the rifle on the table. He lowered it carefully, then kept one hand on it for a second before letting go.
Iyisha let the curtain fall back. She turned around and found him staring at her.
She knew where.
Her hand twitched toward her stomach before she stopped it.
Malcolm’s eyes moved back to her face.
Too late.
"We need to talk," she said.
Malcolm looked away first.
That hurt.
He sat on the edge of the bed. Iyisha sat beside him, but not close. Her hands rested on her knees. Cuts marked her fingers. Bruises darkened her knuckles. Dried blood sat under one nail.
She rubbed at the blood with her thumb. It did not come off.
She could not even keep herself safe.
How was she supposed to carry anything?
Malcolm’s jaw shifted. "Did you mean it?"
Iyisha laughed once. It came out flat. "You think I’d joke about that while we were about to die?"
He looked down at his hands.
She stared at her own hands again. "I haven’t bled for two months."
Malcolm lifted his head.
"I thought it was stress." Her voice thinned. "Or the evolution."
She stopped.
Then she realized it.
If it happened before the infection...
Her hand went to her stomach before she could stop it. The touch made her lock up. If there was something there before the scratch, then it had been there during the fever. During the change.
The virus might have affected it.
She pulled her hand away fast. Her chest tightened. She bent forward and gripped the edge of the bed.
"I don’t know," she said. "I don’t know if I’m pregnant."
Malcolm stood.
She flinched.
He stopped moving.
"Iyisha."
"No." Her breath came too fast. "No, I can’t do this."
"You’re not doing anything."
"We can’t even go to a safe zone." Her voice rose. She tried to lower it and failed. "I can’t walk through a gate. I can’t give my name. I can’t ask for a doctor."
Malcolm took one step closer.
She shook her head.
He stopped again.
"Breathe," he said.
"Should I give birth in a dirty bed?" she asked. Her eyes moved around the room and came back to him. "Is that the plan? In a room like this? With a chair under the door?"
"Iyisha, please calm down."
He crouched in front of her.
Iyisha gripped the bed harder. Her knuckles whitened. "What if I bleed? What if I get fever? What if ERF finds out before I even know what I want? This baby would be hunted for all it’s life."
Malcolm’s hand moved toward her knee, then stopped before touching her.
"Look at me."
"I can’t."
"Look at me."
She did.
Her eyes would not stay still. They moved from his face to the door, to the rifle, to his hands, then back.
"I got checked weeks before the apocalypse," he said. "Zero count."
She froze.
It did not calm her. It did the opposite.
"What does that mean?"
"The chance is low."
"Low."
"Yes."
"Not impossible."
"No."
She stared at him. Her fingers dug into the edge of the bed. "So if I’m pregnant, what? It isn’t yours?"
"No."
"You think I opened my legs to someone else?"
"No." His answer came fast. "No."
"Then don’t say it like that."
He stopped.
His mouth closed. His eyes dropped once, then came back up.
Her breath was still wrong, but anger helped her speak. "I have the IUD. You had the vasectomy. We had condoms in the bag, and we still stopped using them."
His eyes lowered.
"No. Look at me."
He did.
"We chose it," she said. "Both of us."
"Yes."
"Don’t agree like that."
His face tightened.
"You still finished inside me." Her voice shook, but she kept going. "Again and again. Now I’m scared, and you sound like you’re proving it can’t be yours."
Malcolm’s hand closed into a fist against his thigh.
"That’s not what I meant."
"But that’s what came out."
He looked at the floor.
Iyisha wiped her face with the back of her wrist. Her hand was dirty. It dragged dirt across her cheek.
"I don’t even know if it’s true," she said. "I don’t know if there’s anything there, and I’m already scared of it."
Malcolm stayed crouched in front of her. His shoulders were tight. One knee shook once before he pressed his boot harder into the floor.
"I’m scared too," he said.
She looked at him.
He was not looking away.
His face had gone pale under the dirt. His breathing was steady, but his hand kept closing and opening against his knee.
She dropped her hands. "If it is real, am I alone with it?"
Malcolm’s head lifted.
"No."
It came too fast.
Iyisha waited.
He had nothing else ready.
"You don’t want it," she said.
His jaw moved.
No answer.
Her eyes burned again. "Right."
Malcolm looked down. He rubbed his palm once over his mouth. His hand came away shaking, and he dropped it fast like he did not want her to see.
"I had the vasectomy for a reason," he said. His jaw tightened. "I don’t know how to want that," he said.
Iyisha went still.
The words were quiet. He did not spit them. He did not throw them at her.
That made it worse.
She looked away and pressed both hands against her knees.
Her fingers hurt.
"I don’t want to be pregnant either," she said. "I don’t want to give birth out here. I don’t want to hide from ERF with a stomach I can’t cover. I don’t want to bleed in some dirty bed while walkers scratch at the door."
Malcolm stayed quiet.
His eyes moved to the door once, then back to her.
"And I don’t want you looking at me like this is something I did to you."
Malcolm moved closer, then stopped.
"Iyisha."
"Don’t."
He stopped.
For once, he listened.
She cried into her hands. Her breath kept catching. She tried to stop it, but the harder she pressed her palms into her eyes, the worse it got.
Malcolm stayed in front of her.
He did not touch her.
His hands stayed open on his knees.
After a while, he shifted. Pain crossed his face when he moved his weight. Iyisha saw it through her fingers and looked away.
Nothing was fixed.
She dragged her hands down her face. "If it’s real, what then?"
Malcolm swallowed. "I don’t know." freёwebnovel.com
She laughed once. It cracked in the middle. "Great."
"I’m not going to lie."
"I didn’t ask you to lie."
"I know."
Her eyes sharpened. "I don’t want pretty answers. I don’t want you to say you want it if you don’t but I don’t want you to look at me like I ruined something either."
His face tightened.
"You didn’t."
"I might have."
"No. We might have."
Iyisha breathed through her mouth. Her chest still hurt, but air was getting in now.
"I’m tired," she said. "I want to sleep alone."
He stood.
Her chest tightened before she could stop it.
Of course he would go.
She had told him to go.
That did not stop it from hurting.
Malcolm looked at the door, then at the rifle, then back at her. His hand went to the back of his neck and stayed there for a second. He dropped it and picked up the rifle.
Iyisha looked away.
He did not go to the door.
He checked the rifle, then sat on the floor beside the bed with his back against the wall.
Close enough to stay.
Far enough to leave space.
Iyisha watched him. Her eyes were still wet. "What are you doing?"
"Staying."
"On the floor?"
"Yes." Malcolm rested the rifle across his lap. He kept his eyes on the door. "Because you asked if you were going to be alone."
She took in a deep breath. Her hands lay in her lap, still shaking. She folded them together and held tight until the shaking was less visible.
Malcolm watched the door.
Iyisha looked at his hand on the rifle. His knuckles were bruised. One finger had dried blood at the nail.
She leaned into him before she could stop herself.
His arm came around her at once. His hand went to the back of her head.
He held tight.
Tight enough that her body stopped trying to hold itself up.
"I’m sorry," she whispered.
His fingers moved once against her hair. "Me too."
"I’m scared."
He nodded.
She closed her eyes against his shoulder. Her breathing still broke sometimes, but it slowed after a while.
Malcolm kept the rifle across his lap and his arm around her.
When sleep took her, he did not move her.
He watched the door.
