my tears ricochet

Chapter Ninety One

Ivy had spent the better part of a day stringing wire up from trees like the illusion of a net, working the near invisible lines as taunt as she could manage. Twice a walker had emerged from the woods and tried grabbing her but she managed using her hatchet against their fragile bones, rendering them dead at her feet.

Her plans were growing in levels of extremes.

Routine meant predictability and Ivy needed to keep five steps ahead for the people coming after her. Single trucks were now entire convoys from the Hilltop and it was beyond what Ivy could shoot at from a lucky bend in the road.

Little distractions and temporary bait were laid out across the county. Anywhere Ivy could make it on foot, she carved harrowing niches out of the landscape. Occasionally she strung lines of walkers across the road with rope and patience, mimicking the Saviour's original design the night Abraham died. Her rifle was left behind in a campsite and she was traveling light to make up for the rolls of wire that weighed her down.

She finished the last section and knotted off the wire as tight as she could manage. It was a knot Oscar had taught her one night when she couldn't sleep and it relaxed her nerves to repeat his instruction, hoping that he could somehow feel her thinking about him wherever he existed.

Ivy was using every single skill anyone had ever taught her. Her love was a hurt she had to endure but people changed her in soft ways; giving her the ability to run and fight and stand.

Blue skies danced from beyond the outstretched branches overhead and she started off on a twisting trail made from soft mud and stones. But eventually the path failed her, vanishing into a wild edge of land, leaving her fumbling to regain her sense of direction. Her campsite had been tucked beneath a massive oak tree covered in moss and Ivy drifted in aimless circles as she sought it out, trying to find a familiar landmark to redirect herself.

In a single moment, Ivy realized the problem with wandering so far away from the roads. She frequently struggled to pinpoint her position on a map without proper signs and streets and could around in wide passages as she frantically tried to figure her way through the sensation of being lost.

She just never truly knew when she was going to stumble straight into the portions of land claimed by Saviours.

The gun firing on her took her by surprise and she shrieked at the feeling of a bullet catching her arm. The impact knocked her down to the ground and she tried to roll, maneuvering her body behind a tree to avoid the follow up shot.

"Thought I could see a bitch walking around here," someone called out. "You the girl shooting at us?"

Fuck, Ivy thought with a certain venom. The bullet had caught her arm and she was bleeding. Ivy spent the day traveling light to try and move quicker which left her with only a hatchet and her pistol.

She shifted slightly to the left and frowned at the thick wall of trees that stood in the way of her ability to run away. Fear blossomed up as sharp as it had the night in the clearing. Ivy had power when she was holding a gun but she knew she was limited with actual physical combat.

"There you are," a boy said as he appeared just feet away. He was strikingly young compared to the people she had seen around the area, just a few years older than she was.

"I'm lost," Ivy offered, shrinking back into the tree slightly. The bark was rough against her hand and she was racing to sort options out in her head. "I got pushed off the road and I can't find my way back, I was only passing through."

Twice she had tricked men into the woods after in disguise of distress before shooting them out. That trick had worn through quickly enough with the increased paranoia of the Saviours, especially in the western ridge of the map she was working her way along.