Marybeth shifted Iyisha's arm tighter over her shoulder and pulled her up, forcing her weight to stay balanced as they moved. Iyisha's head hung slightly, her steps uneven, dragging more than walking.
"Keep up," Marybeth muttered, adjusting her grip, breath starting to shorten.
Aljun moved to the other side and lifted Iyisha's arm over his shoulder. His hold slipped at first before he steadied it. "Iyisha," he said, breath tight. "Hey. Stay with us."
No response.
Iyisha's feet dragged against the ground.
"Fuck…" Aljun muttered, already winded. "What did she—"
"Not now," Marybeth cut in, sharp.
She shifted Iyisha's weight and grabbed a loose piece of debris with her free hand, throwing it hard across the street.
The sound hit metal.
Heads turned.
"Move."
They went.
As fast as they could with her between them.
Iyisha stumbled.
Marybeth tightened her hold and dragged her forward. "Stay up," she muttered under her breath.
Aljun let out a strained breath beside her.
