The cell was dark. The kind of dark that made the space feel small. The floor was made of cold concrete, and it hurt her back and hips through her thin clothes.
Iyisha was curled up next to Malcolm. Their backs were almost touching. He breathed slowly and deeply. Her breaths were quick and light. Neither of them could sleep.
One flickering light outside the bars gave off a weak yellow glow. It made shadows move on the wall. A guard stood just outside, silent and still.
Then she heard it — a wet sound. A choking sound. Like something rising from deep water.
Iyisha sat up fast, her heart pounding. Her body was tired, but the sound pushed that away. Her eyes scanned the dark, searching for the source.
One of the men in the opposite cell, someone who had arrived earlier, was shaking on the floor.
The girl was next to him, scared. "Hey. Hey! Wake up. What's wrong with you?"
Iyisha leaned forward, her hands grabbing the edge of the cot. The man jerked again… and then went still.
The girl's voice turned sharp. "Hey—hey, are you okay? What's happening?"
Iyisha's eyes widened. Something wasn't right. That sound — that gurgle — it wasn't just sickness. She knew that look. The twitching. The stop.
She shouted across the room, "MOVE AWAY FROM HIM!"
The girl looked up at her, confused. "What?"
"Back up! Now!"
The girl turned to look over her shoulder.
Too late.
He jumped at her.
The girl screamed. It was sharp and real.
His teeth bit into her neck. Blood shot across the room.
Iyisha slammed her hands against the bars. "HELP! HELP!" Her throat burned from the force of it, but she didn't stop.
Malcolm grabbed her from behind, holding her back. "Iyisha, stop—"
"No! Let me go!" she yelled, trying to pull away.
The girl kept screaming. She kicked, tried to push him away. But the man wouldn't stop. He bit her again, pulling skin and muscle. Blood soaked her clothes. Her hands slipped in it as she tried to get away.
The sounds — the tearing, the bones breaking — were worse than the sight. Guards rushed in seconds later, swearing at the sight in front of them.
One of them shouted, "Goddamn it — not again!" Another backed up fast, hand on his weapon. The girl was still moving, barely. But the man who turned into a zombie didn't stop until the shots came.
Malcolm put a hand over Iyisha's mouth as another scream came out. He pulled her to the floor, trying to block her view. But she had already seen everything.
And the girl kept screaming.
It didn't stop.
Then another gunshot. And silence.
Voices came from outside.
"Who cleared them?"
"They were barely awake."
"They hide bites now. Happens all the time."
Boots stomped. Keys jingled.
"Pauline's not gonna want to clean this up again," one man muttered.
"Well, it's her job," another replied. "What a mess. These people are insane."
Iyisha sank to the floor, trembling.
Malcolm sat beside her, placing a hand gently on her back.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
She didn't answer.
"First time you've seen it happen?"
She nodded slowly. Her jaw was too tight to speak.
"What did you do before all this?"
She took a shaky breath. "I was a medical student. Doing my practical training at North Shore University Hospital, out on Long Island when the outbreak started, the military airlifted us out and hid us in bunkers while hell broke loose."
She blinked. "I've seen dead bodies. But not like this. Not someone turning. Not someone killing."
Malcolm nodded. "So this was your first."
Another nod.
She added, voice quieter now, "After the evacuation, I was assigned to Redridge. First in the trauma tents, treating wounded soldiers. Then later they moved me to the STD medical bay to assist with screenings and meds."
There was a pause. Silence stretched out between them.
Then she said, barely above a whisper, "I've never been outside before."
"Not until they kicked me out." Her voice cracked on the last word.
"They don't tell you how it feels," he said. "Watching someone stop being human."
Iyisha didn't answer. She hugged her knees to her chest and turned her face to the wall.
Outside, life kept moving. Boots on the floor. Loud voices. Someone started mopping. She smelled bleach and blood.
She closed her eyes.
But the screams didn't go away.
They echoed in her head, again and again.
And inside her, something cracked. A cold fear of what this world could still take from her.
She thought of Cena. Her sister.
That last message, just three days before she was kicked out, about a breach in their settlement. No follow-up. No response.
Iyisha curled tighter into herself, rocking in place. What if Cena was already gone? Torn apart like that woman? What if she'd screamed like this? What if no one came then, too?
Her breath hitched. Her vision blurred.
Malcolm glanced over, his brow furrowed. "Pull yourself together," he muttered under his breath.
She tried. But her body was shivering now. Her chest tightened. She couldn't catch her breath. Her heart pounded in her ears.
A panic attack.
She buried her face in her arms, trying to block it out, but it only made her world smaller. Her thoughts louder.
Malcolm cursed under his breath, then reached for her — hesitant, like someone not used to offering comfort. He pulled her into his arms, stiff at first. His hand hovered, then landed gently on her back. Her face pressed against his shoulder, breaths shallow and broken. Still, he held her.
And slowly, the shivering eased. Not gone. But quieter.