Chapter 184: Chapter 184 - Risk
The Stevens house sat in the residential block just outside the hospital.
By the time Iyisha and Marybeth reached the porch, night had already settled in, but the place did not look like night.
Marybeth slowed beside her and stared out at the street.
"It’s too bright," she said.
Iyisha followed her gaze.
The entire community was lit. Streetlights ran in a steady line down the road. Houses glowed from within, light spilling through windows and across the pavement. It stretched farther than she expected, block after block holding the same quiet brightness.
It felt strange seeing it like this.
Alive.
Susan had mentioned it earlier. Each house had its own solar panels, most of them salvaged from a solar power center nearby and set up one by one after the collapse.
Iyisha watched the light for a moment longer, catching the movement behind a few windows. People passing. Doors opening. Life continuing in small, steady ways.
"Come on," she said.
They were the last ones outside.
Iyisha reached for the door and pushed it open.
Warm air met her first, followed by soft music and the low blend of voices inside.
Iyisha stepped in and the door closed quietly behind them, muting the outside into a distant hush. The living room came into view, small but filled, people standing close, talking in low voices, glasses in hand. Faces she did not recognize, but all of them carried the same ease, like they had been in this space together many times before.
"Iyisha, Marybeth."
Susan’s voice cut through the room.
Iyisha looked up and smiled. "Hey."
Susan came over and handed them each a glass.
"You two finished rounding the town?"
Iyisha and Marybeth nodded.
"It’s a beautiful place," Iyisha said.
Something in Susan’s expression softened at that.
"We try." She glanced toward the kitchen. "Come sit. I’ll check on the snacks. Mark’s still preparing."
"It’s a bit crowded," Marybeth murmured beside her.
She gave a small nod and gently pulled her forward anyway.
Her eyes moved across the room until they found Malcolm sitting beside Lance on the couch.
Lance leaned back with a blanket around his shoulders, the oxygen tube beneath his nose, the small tank beside him humming steadily. He looked thinner in this light, his face drawn sharper, but his eyes stayed bright as they moved around the room.
Then he saw them.
"Hey. Iyisha. Marybeth," Lance called out. "Come on. Sit with us."
Iyisha smiled and led Marybeth over, slowing when she reached the couch. She stopped beside Malcolm and their eyes met. There was a faint smirk on his face, small but there, and it changed him in a way she had not seen before.
He looked... lighter.
Different.
She realized then he was different around Lance.
Malcolm shifted slightly, tapping the space beside him without a word.
Iyisha sat down.
Marybeth followed and took the space at her other side.
Lance looked around, pleased.
"Well," he said. "This is the best party I’ve had in years."
A nurse laughed from the kitchen.
"That’s because the last one was in the oncology ward."
"That one sucked," Lance said.
Laughter followed, easy and familiar, filling the room without effort.
Iyisha felt it settle somewhere deep, somewhere quiet.
Mark, Susan’s husband and the director of the hospital, stepped out from the kitchen with a platter of finger food balanced in one hand. He set it down on the table, then reached for a bottle and poured into a glass before handing it to Malcolm, the motion easy and familiar, like this was something he had done many times before.
"A little wine," he said. "To celebrate your return."
Malcolm nodded and took it.
Susan watched from behind him, arms lightly crossed.
"You’re encouraging him," she said. "Alcohol is not good for his age."
Mark glanced at her, amused.
"Hey, hon. You’re making me sound old."
"You are old," Lance said, and the room broke into laughter again.
The party carried on from there, easy and loose. Charades turned into drinking games, people shifting around the room, talking over each other while the music played low in the background. Iyisha stayed where she was, watching more than joining, her gaze drifting back to Malcolm.
He was looking at Lance with a small smirk.
It made him look different.
Softer.
"I’ll step outside," she said quietly to Marybeth.
Marybeth looked at her. "Don’t leave me here."
Iyisha smiled a little as she stood. "I’ll be back."
She slipped out of the room before anyone else could pull her into another round.
Cool air met her as she stepped onto the porch, and when the door closed behind her, the noise inside softened into a distant blur of music and laughter. She leaned against the railing and looked out at the street, taking in the steady glow of lights stretching across the block. A few houses were still awake, movement passing behind the windows.
People living.
Her chest tightened slightly as she thought of Lance. The way he laughed. The way he leaned back like nothing was wrong.
No one said anything about how tired he looked.
Iyisha let out a slow breath and sat down on the step, her hands resting loosely in her lap.
A moment passed before she heard the door open behind her. She glanced back as Malcolm stepped out and closed it.
She smiled at him. "Tired of Lance?"
"Never," he said.
Serious.
She shook her head lightly. "I didn’t mean it like that. Bad choice of words."
"Hm."
He walked over and sat beside her, handing her a bottle of beer as he settled on the step.
She took it, turning the bottle in her hand. "Are you telling me to drink?"
He took a swig first. "I’m here."
She huffed softly and took a small sip.
It hit harder than she expected.
Too sharp.
Too sour.
She coughed, turning slightly away as it burned down her throat.
Malcolm’s lips lifted a little as he reached over and tapped her back. "Easy. It’s homemade."
She shot him a look, still coughing.
After a moment, she caught her breath and straightened, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Malcolm had already taken another drink, his gaze on the street again.
Quiet settled between them.
Iyisha glanced at him. "What’s your plan?"
Malcolm didn’t answer right away. He took another drink, then looked at her.
"Susan told me New York has developed something."
"Oh," she said, softer this time.
"A drug," he added. "Made from the DNA of an evolved human."
Iyisha stilled.
Her grip on the bottle tightened.
She looked at him slowly. "Does this have something to do with me?"
Malcolm held her gaze. "Let Susan check if you can help Lance."
The words landed heavy.
Iyisha stared at him, her chest tightening. "What?" Her voice came out quieter than she meant. "You want me to tell Susan?"
He gave a small nod.
She pushed herself to her feet. "Are you crazy? Do you know how dangerous that is?"
"Susan can be trusted."
Iyisha shook her head, disbelief rising. "Malcolm, you haven’t seen them for years." She stepped back slightly. "How could you ask that from me?"
Malcolm looked away, taking another drink as he faced the road.
She waited.
The silence stretched.
Then he nodded once.
"You’re right," he said. "That was selfish of me."
He looked at her again.
The small smirk from earlier was gone.
He looked tired.
Disappointed.
He stood.
"Wait," Iyisha said quickly.
But Malcolm had already turned.
He went back inside, the door closing behind him.
Iyisha remained where she was, the bottle still in her hand, her thoughts turning over themselves.
Doubt crept in.
