Chapter 57: Chapter 57 - Condoms as Payment
Waldo’s smile thinned as the cigarette burned down between his fingers. "Come to bargain?" His voice carried the weight of someone who already believed the outcome was his.
Iyisha stopped a few paces away. Her legs felt unsteady but she made herself stand straight. "Lauren is going to Motherhood whether you like it or not. If you want her safe, Malcolm and I will take her. We will get her through the checkpoints and to the gates."
Waldo tilted his head, smoke curling around his face. "That is what you bring me? Walk her into the council’s hands and hope they are gentle?" He laughed once, sharp and humorless. "You really think safety exists in that place?"
"It is the only chance she has," Iyisha said, forcing her voice steady. "Anything else will brand us all. If I am caught, so will you, and Lauren. None of us will see another safe zone again."
Waldo studied her in silence, then crushed the cigarette under his boot. "Then I go with you."
Iyisha blinked. "What?"
"If she is handed over, I want eyes on it. I want to know where she is taken. You and your soldier boy can drive your machine. I will take her with me."
Iyisha frowned. "The ATV cannot carry us all."
"I did not say the ATV." His voice dropped to a mutter, but his eyes never left her. "I have a car. Still runs. Two seats. Enough for her and me."
Iyisha felt her stomach turn. "And after that? You know she cannot leave for a year after the birth. Will you just sit outside and wait?"
Waldo’s grin returned, colder than before. "Maybe I will. There are free zones around the compound. I can disappear there until she is ready. A year is nothing if it means she still belongs to me when she comes out."
Iyisha’s hands tightened at her sides. He had already decided, not out of care, but out of possession. It was never just about safety. It was about control.
Iyisha steadied herself, forcing her voice level. "Then give me the supplies. If you expect me to play my part, I need them back."
Waldo rose without a word, boots crunching as he crossed the yard. He slipped into the side room where he kept his trades. From where she stood, Iyisha heard a shuffle, the clink of bottles, the scrape of a box being dragged. Her gut tightened.
When he came back he carried a plastic bag. Inside, rolls of gauze and a bottle of antiseptic rattled against each other. He set it down on the crate between them. "Gilbert brought these in," he said. "Smart boy. Asked for cigarettes and a bottle of gin. You should be careful with your supplies."
Iyisha’s stomach turned. Gilbert. Mary’s brightest student, the one she trusted most. She took the bag, her fingers cold around the thin plastic.
Waldo studied her in silence before speaking again. "Does Malcolm know about this?"
Iyisha shook her head. "Not yet."
A smile tugged at the corner of Waldo’s mouth, humorless. "Then you tell him. He does not like surprises. Men like him want the road clean, no side deals, no secrets."
Iyisha lowered her gaze, her stomach hollowing. She clutched the bag tighter, the supplies digging into her palms like stones. She could already imagine Malcolm’s face when she told him. His disappointment would cut deeper than his anger.
Iyisha’s chest tightened. She clutched the bag harder, the supplies crinkling in her grip. She could already see Malcolm’s face when she told him—calm, steady, but edged with that cold disappointment that always hurt more than anger.
Mary was waiting by the storeroom when Iyisha arrived at the hospital. Iyisha set the plastic bag on the counter and pushed it toward her. Mary opened it, her shoulders loosening as soon as she saw the gauze and antiseptic.
The supply count was good now, back to what it should be. Even if the council came tomorrow, they would find everything in order.
"Thank God," Mary breathed, letting out a long sigh of relief. "You found them."
"Gilbert," Iyisha muttered.
Mary’s hands froze on the bottles. Her head snapped up, her eyes searching Iyisha’s face.
"No... Gilbert?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "He is a good boy. He helps with everything. He would never—" She cut herself off, disbelief hardening into silence.
Iyisha crossed her arms, heat rising in her chest.
"You should have been more careful. If you show someone where to take something, do not be surprised when they take it."
Mary locked the cabinet again with a click, then looked back at her, brows lifting. Iyisha shifted under her gaze, uneasy, not wanting to start a fight.
Instead of anger, Mary’s mouth curved into a smirk. Her eyes glittered with amusement.
"I never thought I would hear that from you," she said. "But you are right. It is my fault." She chuckled softly, shaking her head, then swung open another cabinet. "Here, I will pay you back." She pulled out two small boxes and set them on the counter.
Iyisha glanced down and froze. Condoms.
Mary leaned on the counter, a grin tugging at her lips as she watched Iyisha’s expression. "My little stash," she said, almost laughing. "Not quite what you expected, hm?"
Iyisha felt her face warm, unsure whether to laugh with her or scold her. Mary’s smirk only widened, clearly enjoying her discomfort.
Iyisha picked up the boxes, hesitated, then slipped them into her bag.
Mary burst out laughing, loud enough that it startled Iyisha. Heat rushed to her face. "They have trade value," she muttered quickly.
Mary leaned back against the counter, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "I am not saying a word," she said, still chuckling. "But I can already see Malcolm’s face. He would not complain, that is for sure."
Iyisha flushed deeper and ducked her head, eager to move on. "What about Gilbert? What will you do with him?"
Mary’s laughter faded. She pulled out a chair and lowered herself into it with a sigh, her hand resting over the bag of recovered supplies.
"This is serious," she said quietly. "If the council ever finds out he even touched these, they would not forgive it. They might throw him out in the middle of winter, and you know what that means."
Iyisha stayed silent, waiting.
Mary’s eyes softened, her voice steady but heavy. "But he is bright. Smarter than most. He could be a surgeon if he had the chance. And God knows this world needs more people like that."
Iyisha leaned against the table, her voice low. "Then speak to him first. Do not let anyone else. If you reach him before the fear does, maybe he will listen."
Mary nodded slowly, her mouth pressed into a thin line. "Yes. I will talk to him."
The room grew quiet, the weight of the choice pressing on both of them.
A boy had stolen. A boy might save lives. And between those truths, Mary would have to decide which mattered more. Neither of them could understand why Gilbert had felt the need to take the supplies at all. He had never seemed careless or greedy. All he ever spoke about was his dream of becoming a medic, of patching wounds and saving lives.
Iyisha pushed back her chair and stood. "I am worn out. I will not come to the garden tonight. I need to talk to Malcolm, and he is not going to like any of this."
Mary leaned back, folding her arms. "No, he will not. Two lives on the line, and if it looks like a detour, he will be the first to point it out."
Iyisha sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Maybe I should have left it for him to handle. He is better at this."
Mary shook her head. "If you had pulled a gun on Waldo, or tried to warn him with threats, it would have turned ugly. Waldo has people who would back him, same as anyone with trade power. That would have been a mess. The way you did it was cleaner. Safer."
Iyisha lowered her hand, the tension in her shoulders easing only slightly. "I hope so."
Mary’s expression softened, then curved into a grin. "If you are really worried, show him those condoms first. That might cheer him up before you tell him the rest."
Iyisha reddened instantly, clutching her bag tighter. "Mary."
Mary laughed, the sound rolling easily through the room. "I am only saying, pick your order wisely."
Iyisha left the storeroom with the bag slung heavy at her side. Mary’s laughter still echoed faintly in her ears, but the sound did nothing to lighten her steps. By the time she reached the hallway, the weight of what waited ahead pressed down harder than the supplies she carried.
Their room was dim when she pushed the door open, the thin curtains drawn against the afternoon light. Malcolm’s jacket hung neatly on the back of the chair, his boots lined side by side beneath it. The sight of his things always steadied her, yet tonight it only made her stomach twist tighter.
