my tears ricochet

Chapter Fourteen

Ivy tried not to think of the world burning, that barn going up in flames, the way Maggie had cried leaving the farm. Both Glenn and her had been grey faced in the front, rattling over options, trying to reload guns while circling around for a better option. She hadn't even heard Daryl's bike until Maggie had pulled over to the side of the road, turning backwards to check who exactly was at their rear.

The fact that Daryl Dixon was alive had her stumbling over herself, flinging herself out of the car and rushing to feel the proof herself, her arms winding around him like a trap. Any prior hesitations had died when they left the farm. The grief was overwhelming and she felt small at the base of it until Daryl pushed his own arms around and hugged tight enough her bones ached from the force of it.

She swapped the car for riding behind Daryl, an excuse to stick close to the man even if the air made her shiver. He can't see her face when they ride off so she is finally free to cry, exhausted by the urge to run and hide, to crawl back to the farm house and see the scattered remains.

There's a small bag of supplies stashed away for her and she knows it won't be enough. That was an emergency bag and this is an emergency and nothing will ever be enough to cover all their needs. Ivy forced her mind to go through a mental list to take inventory of the reality: she was alive, she had Daryl, she had enough to get by for the first day in this new life.

It's more than she ever had before, she realized. The last time Ivy had been on her own, she had to kill her father to escape the home, shoving her feet blindly into her mother's old hiking boots because her father had fed her shoes into the fire to keep her from running. Her current boots were a pair of cowboy boots Daryl had found, still stiff with newness, lined with a pair of thick socks. He had brought them home for her after he had seen her eye Beth's cream coloured pair, a bit of envy tinging the desires.

A small pang went through her at the realization that she had left her mother's boots behind. Ivy hadn't valued them enough to leave them at the highway.

She refused to cry over the boots and stayed quiet until Daryl pulled up to the highway, guiding Glenn along a series of narrow turns until the road cleared up some. "Do you think they made it?" She called out, hoping Daryl could hear her over the engine.

In that moment she missed the tattered looking campsite in front of the house, gross coffee brewing over a fire pit. The morning is just unfurling open in a blue sky and cool breeze. So much bad lurks around the corners and Ivy cast a wary eye over clusters of cars, trying to see movement.

Daryl made a sound, distracting her from her thoughts. "Think they did."

Rick and Hershel are bent low around one of the cars, Carl between them. There's blue coming up behind Glenn and Maggie and she realizes it is one of the trucks, Lori sitting in the passenger seat. Ivy tried to do math and realized that they were smaller than they were before, each person scrambling to lay hands on the other in reverent joy. "Where'd you find everyone?"

"Well these guys' tail lights zigzagging all over the road, figured he had to be Asian, driving like that," Daryl joked, a thin attempt at lightness.

Glenn chuckled, nodding. "Good one."

"Where's the rest of us?"

"We're the only ones who made it so far," Rick said, turning towards Daryl. Ivy could see blood smeared across his face like a wave of grief.

"Shane?" Lori asked, standing. Ivy could see hesitant fear burning in her gaze and compared it to the same look her mother used to have on her face whenever they heard her father coming home at night.