Free Web NovelChapter 72: Chapter 72 - Danger
IYISHA’S POV
Iyisha woke to frantic knocking so violent it rattled the walls.
She stumbled out of bed, still half tangled in her blankets, but before she reached the door it flew open. Rhea shoved her way inside, slammed it closed, and locked it with shaking hands. Her whole body trembled. Her breaths came in jagged pulls. Her eyes darted like a trapped animal searching for an exit that did not exist.
Iyisha froze. Her mind felt slow, thick, still waking.
"Rhea," she whispered. "Hey. Look at me. What is going on."
Rhea tried to speak. No words came. Only quiet sobs broken by frantic breaths.
Iyisha stepped back, heartbeat thudding against her ribs. She pushed herself toward the window and cracked the curtain. Snow drifted softly in the entrance hall just outside. Everything looked quiet. Too quiet. Like the world was pretending nothing was happening.
Then the shouts tore through the silence.
A man yelling. Something crashing. A scream cut short. The kind of sound that makes the blood go cold in an instant.
Iyisha dropped the curtain and pressed her back against the wall, chest rising fast. She whispered without thinking, "Oh God. Please." freёweɓnovel.com
Her hands shook. Her knees felt weak.
She knew it.
Clara.
She forced herself toward Rhea, who crouched near the table, arms wrapped around herself like she was holding her soul in.
"What happened," Iyisha asked. Her voice cracked once before she steadied it.
Rhea shook her head. "People... guns... in the kitchen. I hid. I saw them walk in and I ran. I don’t know if they followed. Iyisha... I do not know."
Iyisha’s breath shuddered. Her fingers dug into the wooden cabinet as she opened it, reaching blindly for the gun she barely remembered loading days ago. Her hands fumbled on the metal, slipping once before she gripped it tight.
She stood there for a moment, shaking.
She heard thud on the hallway making Rhea huddle in the corner. She walked slowly towards the door.
Iyisha’s breath came in shallow pulls as she rested her ear to the door. The screams grew sharper. Closer.
"We cannot stay here," she whispered, voice shaking so badly she barely recognized it. "Rhea. Come. Come with me."
Rhea clung to the doorknob at first, too terrified to move, but Iyisha grabbed her trembling hand and pulled gently, then harder. Rhea finally peeled away from the door, stumbling forward, clutching her rosary necklace in her fist, lips already muttering prayers.
Iyisha opened the door an inch. Snow drifted silently across the entrance hall. No movement yet. She opened it wider, her gun shaking in her other hand so much she had to hold her wrist with her free hand just to steady the barrel.
"Stay close," Iyisha whispered, though her voice cracked at the end.
They stepped into the hall. The cold slapped their faces. The snow swallowed their footsteps. They slipped out the side exit and down the small slope behind the main building, crouching low as they moved.
The world outside looked wrong.
Fires smoldered in two distant huts. Someone sprinted across the yard, screaming for help. Another person ran in the opposite direction. Doors slammed. Wood shattered.
Where are the guards?
Iyisha pulled Rhea lower, their bodies nearly pressed to the frozen ground as they crept toward the line of stacked crates near the workshop. Her knees burned from the cold through her pants. Rhea’s breath hitched in quick, panicked bursts beside her. The rosary clicked between her fingers.
Then Iyisha saw him.
A man with a gun stepped out from behind the storage shed. He was filthy in a way that made her breath stop. Not just unwashed. Not just rough. Filthy like a wanderer scraped raw by the road.
Hair clumped with ice and dirt. Jacket stiff with old stains. Skin gray with grime, the kind that settles into every crease when a person has not seen shelter or soap in weeks.
He looked like someone who had never lived inside walls. Someone who should never have made it inside theirs.
Her stomach dropped so fast she almost gagged. Her hands tightened painfully around the gun.
Rhea squeezed her rosary harder, whispering under her breath, "Holy Mary please, please please."
Iyisha didn’t even realize she joined her for a moment, whispering the last word with her. "Please."
The man took another step. Snow crunched under his boots. He was coming closer. He was not turning away. He was heading straight toward the crates where they hid.
Iyisha grabbed Rhea’s hand and pulled it tight against her own, squeezing so hard her knuckles whitened. She tried to breathe quietly, but the cold stung her lungs. Her hands shook everywhere. Her thoughts scattered into fear.
If he rounded the corner, they would be visible from both sides. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. The open yard would expose them like prey.
Her heartbeat pounded so loudly she worried he would hear it.
Then a desperate thought tore through her panic.
Malcolm.
An image slammed into her. Him trying to stop her bleeding and his hand gripping her wrist as she slipped in the dark, his voice low but steady, saying,
Stay with me.
She remembered the warmth of his hand. The absolute certainty in his tone. The way the world had steadied around him even when everything was collapsing.
Iyisha pressed her forehead briefly to the cold crate, forcing a breath out. She could feel her fear crashing like waves against her ribs, but she pushed against it with every scrap of will she had left.
She would not die here.
She would not let Rhea die here.
She would not throw away the life Malcolm dragged back from the edge for her.
She wants to see him again.
She forced her breath slow.
She forced her hands still.
She forced herself to think.
Her voice came low. Barely a whisper. Terrified but shaped like his.
"Rhea. Do not move," she murmured.
The tone came out clearer than she expected. Sharper. Malcolm’s tone echoed in it, even through her tremble.
Rhea nodded, clutching her rosary to her lips.
The footsteps came closer. Too close. Snow grinding under the weight of the stranger’s boots. Iyisha could smell his coat, the cold leather, the smoke clinging to it.
If he stepped one more pace forward, he would see them.
Iyisha steadied her shaking grip on the gun and whispered again, breath trembling but resolve tightening around her bones.
