Chapter 97: Chapter 97 - Safe or Not
Iyisha swallowed hard as the voices shifted again.
Footsteps separated, no longer clustered, spreading out with intent. Some moved away, fanning wider into the trees. Others came closer, slower and heavier, boots crunching with purpose instead of noise.
They were hunting now.
Her eyes slid shut as panic pressed tight against her ribs. A thought cut sharp through the fear, unwanted and cruel. Maybe they should have run farther. Maybe they should have left everything behind sooner, the meat, the hides, the tools, the resources the community needed to stand back up on its feet. Or maybe this was the moment they were supposed to fight for it.
Her jaw clenched. She bit her dry lip, scraped her tongue against cracked skin, grounding herself in the sting as the footsteps drew nearer.
Too near.
She knew what came next. She knew the gunshots would break the dark at any second. Her lungs burned as she held her breath, body locked so tight it felt like stone.
Then an engine roared in the distance.
Not close. Not yet. But real.
Shouts erupted instantly. Orders barked sharp and frantic as the sound grew louder.
"Grab what you can."
Boots pounded. Gear clattered. Hands tore at bundles in the truck bed, frantic rustling as people scrambled.
"Get anything and we’ll kill you," Fenigan shouted from the dark, his voice cutting through the chaos, hard and fearless.
Iyisha dared to peek.
Fenigan stood near the road now, gun raised and steady, Aaron and the guard emerging beside him, their shapes firm and unflinching, boldened by the sound bearing down from the distance. Backup. Or at least the promise of it.
Her chest lifted with a shaky breath.
Malcolm was not there.
Her eyes searched instinctively, panic flaring again when she could not find him, when the trees near her stayed still and empty.
The intruders cursed openly now, voices sharp and ragged as they backed away, retreating toward the road and the darkness they had come from.
"Shit," one of them spat.
"Move," another snapped. "Move."
The engine’s roar swelled fast, loud enough to drown out the forest. Headlights punched through the trees, harsh and blinding, tearing the night wide open.
"Get back," someone shouted.
"Run."
They broke, scrambling and swearing as they fled toward the road, boots pounding, curses thrown over their shoulders as the light chased them into the dark.
Iyisha slumped where she was, breath tearing in and out of her chest as the engine sound swelled, closer now, real enough to shake the ground beneath her. Her body finally unlocked all at once, fear and cold crashing together, leaving her weak and shaking.
She nearly cried out when something touched her hand.
"Easy," Malcolm said softly.
Her eyes flew open and there he was, crouched beside her like he had always been there, one hand steady on her wrist, the other already bracing her shoulder. Relief hit so hard it made her dizzy.
She tried to stand.
Her legs buckled immediately.
Malcolm did not hesitate. He lifted her cleanly off the ground, solid and sure, and she gave in without thinking, melting into him as if her body had been waiting for permission to stop holding itself together. Her face pressed against his chest, breath stuttering, fingers clutching his jacket as the last of the adrenaline drained out of her.
The forest around them filled with movement.
Men spilled out from the arriving truck, boots thudding hard against the road, voices sharp and urgent as they took in the scene.
Fenigan let out a rough breath and lifted his hand. "Thank God," he shouted.
"Get a perimeter up."
"On it," someone called back.
Rifles came up immediately. Dark silhouettes spread along the roadside, barrels aimed into the trees while others rushed past toward the pickup, calling out quick orders as they moved.
Ropes were thrown. Metal clanged. The disabled vehicle was secured and dragged free inch by inch, tires scraping as it was hitched to the truck.
Malcolm carried her out of the forest and toward the road, never breaking stride, never loosening his grip. She lifted her head once, watching the men fan out, watching the darkness where the attackers had fled, then let herself sink back against him.
He set her down inside the vehicle and she exhaled as warmth wrapped around her, heat seeping into her bones for the first time since the creek. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned back, exhaustion pulling her under.
Malcolm climbed in after her.
The doors shut. Engines idled. More bodies filled the seats and the bed, weapons still ready, eyes still sharp.
Iyisha stayed where she was, breathing slowly now, safe for the moment, held together by heat and the solid presence beside her as the convoy prepared to move again.
Warmth should have helped.
Instead it made everything feel wrong.
As the heat seeped into her clothes and skin, Iyisha’s shaking worsened, not eased, her body trembling harder as if it had finally lost the fight to stay upright. Her teeth chattered violently, jaw locking and unlocking without her control, breath coming shallow and uneven.
She tried to speak and failed.
Her fingers felt clumsy, distant, the world narrowing at the edges as a heavy fog pressed in behind her eyes. The sounds around her dulled, voices stretching and blurring, the steady rumble of engines turning thick and far away.
Malcolm’s hand came to her shoulder again, firmer now.
"Iyisha," he said, closer than before.
She nodded weakly, though she was not sure what she was agreeing to. Her eyelids fluttered, exhaustion dragging at her hard, a dangerous softness creeping in that felt almost like relief.
Cold still lived deep inside her, buried under the warmth, refusing to let go.
Her body curled inward on itself, muscles stiff and uncooperative, shivers racking her frame as her head tipped forward and rested against the seat.
She was not just tired.
She was slipping.
And somewhere in the back of her fading awareness, a single thought surfaced, slow and heavy.
She was colder now than she had been in the creek.
