Malcolm shoved her toward the ATV. "On. Now."
She scrambled onto the seat, still trembling. He swung up after her and started the engine, the roar almost deafening after the silence of the lot.
"Hold on tight," he snapped.
She wrapped her arms around him, clinging as the ATV shot forward. Instead of the road, he veered into the grass beside it, the ride turning rough and bumpy. Her teeth rattled with every jolt.
She buried her face against his back, heart pounding. The bumps hurt, but it was safer. Still, she could feel how tense he was, every muscle locked tight.
Malcolm cursed under his breath. "That was too damn close."
"You fired back there!" she yelled, voice shaking more with nerves than anger. "That's what drew them! You made it worse!"
His shoulders stiffened, but he didn't answer.
The silence after her words was worse than if he had yelled back. Realization crashed over her.
Stupid.
Her chest burned with shame. He'd saved her, and all she'd done was spit useless words. Now the silence between them was punishment enough.
Iyisha's throat tightened. She felt useless, broken. Her hands clung tighter, but the silence between them stretched. She was angry at herself for being angry at him just because she couldn't keep herself safe.
They hit another rough patch and she gasped, staring past his shoulder as the familiar road sign came into view: US 36. They were back on it, heading east.
More silence. The cold wind whipped her cheeks raw. Finally, Malcolm's voice cut through it, low but firm.
"Hold on to me. Tight."
She obeyed without a word, pressing close as they drove on. No more talking. Just the engine's growl and the ache in her chest.
Hours bled together, the ATV eating up the miles. Iyisha wanted to speak, to tell him she hadn't meant to lash out, but shame sat heavy in her chest and held her tongue.
The silence pressed on, her thoughts circling, making her angrier at herself than at him.
Hours blurred until her eyes caught something shimmering far off to the right. She blinked. "Water," she whispered. "Malcolm, I see water."
He slowed, following her gaze. A lake, wide and still, caught the afternoon light.
"Let's stop," she said, hope threading through her voice.
He nodded once and turned them down a narrow private drive leading toward the shore.
The ATV bounced over gravel. Iyisha's nerves prickled again, her eyes scanning the treeline. The house at the end came into view—two stories, its paint faded, the gate hanging open, the front door ajar.
Her stomach flipped. "It looks abandoned."
"Stay sharp," Malcolm said, his voice all business. He cut the engine and climbed off, rifle ready. "I'll scope it. You stay behind me."
They entered cautiously. The house was quiet, still. Dust lay thick, but the rooms looked cleaner than most ruins they'd seen.
Malcolm moved like a shadow, checking corners, clearing each room. Finally, he lowered the rifle. "Safe enough. But don't go upstairs."
Iyisha hesitated, the warning sharp in her ears.
"Why not?" she wanted to ask, but the words stuck in her throat.
Instead, her gaze fell on a framed picture hanging crooked on the wall. A woman stood smiling with five children, all young, none older than eight. Iyisha's chest tightened. How hard it must have been to care for them here, alone. Then the realization struck—maybe that was why Malcolm wouldn't let her go upstairs.
She turned away quickly, hugging her arms, trying not to imagine what might be waiting above.
Before settling in, Malcolm had them set up perimeter alarms again—cans on strings and leaves scattered along the paths. By the time they reached the lake's edge, the water looked almost inviting, rippling under the late sun.
They filled containers to heat later, and Iyisha asked if she could go in. The water was so clear she could see the bottom.
"Stay on the shore," Malcolm warned. "We don't know what's deeper."
She thanked him, her mind still chewing on how snappy she had been earlier.
She first took the time to wash their clothes, spreading them across the rocks where the heat and sun would dry them faster. Malcolm stayed close, eyes scanning the treeline, never still.
She hesitated, cheeks burning at the thought of being fully naked, but all her clothes needed washing and they didn't know when they'd find water again.
Glancing at Malcolm's back, she forced herself to strip the rest off, feeling vulnerable as her skin prickled in the open air.
She waded only waist-deep, never far from shore, letting the cool water slide over her skin.
For a moment she wanted to cover herself, but she trusted Malcolm—trusted that his steady back turned toward her meant he would keep watch and give her the space she needed.
As the soap and water slid over her, she groaned softly at how good it felt, almost forgetting the shame still tugging in her chest.
She replayed her sharp words from earlier and winced, wishing she could take them back.
When her clothes were still damp and unwearable, she swallowed her pride and asked if she could borrow one of his shirts.
Malcolm's head turned slightly, his brow furrowing. For a beat he didn't answer, the silence stretching until it felt unbearable.
"Yeah… sure." he muttered with a short sigh.
"You can wash too... if you want," she said carefully.
He finally glanced back—just enough to catch her in his shirt, his eyes flicking up and down before he cleared his throat. She felt the weight of it, heat rising to her cheeks.
His jaw flexed, and when he looked away again his voice came rough, hesitant after a pause.
"Sure."
They switched places. She moved to where he had been standing, pistol gripped tight in her hand while he headed for the water.
Every rustle of fabric as he undressed reached her ears, sounding far more intimate than it should have.
She stiffened, realizing this must have been exactly what he'd heard from her earlier, and the thought sent her cheeks burning again.
When the sun began to sink she caught movement far off in the fields—shadows shifting, maybe a dozen walkers drifting aimlessly. She leaned forward to be sure when Malcolm's hand touched her shoulder and she almost jumped.
"Let's go inside," he said firmly. She nodded quickly and gathered up the half‑dry clothes, hugging them to her chest as they retreated back toward the house.