Daughter of a Dixon ✔️

08: Hobbling Along

The night was, as I expected, long, excruciating, and nerve-wracking.

Spending an entire night perched up in a tree was almost intolerable, between the hard branches, insects, and the fear of falling, but it was better than being on the ground and having to worry about walkers.

As can be expected, I didn't get more than twenty minutes of good sleep that night. I would doze on and off, but as soon as I  felt myself going to sleep, I shook myself back awake. If I went to sleep and fell out of the tree, I didn't know if I would have the strength to climb it again.

Although, when early morning came, that was exactly what happened.

I guess I had gotten to the point where I could no longer fight the exhaustion, and my body forced itself into sleep. I didn't know how long I was out, probably no more than fifteen minutes, and that alone was dangerous.

When I eventually woke up, for a second after, I forgot where I was and what I was doing. Somehow, I lost my balance, and fell backwards off the branch I was perched on. Since I was fairly high in the tree, I felt several other branches scraping my arms and legs on the way down.

The first part of me that hit the ground was my left foot, and I heard a loud crack when it did, followed by a searing wave of pain. I let out a yell as I realized that I had probably popped my ankle out of joint.

Letting out quick, strained breaths, I pushed myself up from the ground and into a sitting position to try and examine my ankle. It was throbbing with tight pain as I pulled it into my lap, wincing. I carefully slid off my shoe and rolled up the leg of my pants to get a better look, and I somewhat regretted it when I did.

My ankle was visibly dislocated; the bone wasn't sitting directly in its socket. The area around it was already beginning to swell, which made my ankle stiff and almost impossible to move. From experience, I knew that if I wanted to be able to walk, I needed to pop my ankle back into place. I had seen Dad do it to Uncle Merle before, after he crashed his motorcycle, so I was aware of how I had to do it. I was also aware of how much it was gonna hurt.

I tried to keep my breathing even as I placed my hands in the correct spots, fighting back the pain. I let out a long exhale.

"One... two-..." I tightened my grip on my foot. "-.. three!"

I twisted my hands, my ankle following, and a loud pop echoed throughout the woods, along with a loud, agonizing scream of mine. It hurt unlike anything I had ever felt before; it brought me onto my back and I tried not to cry out in pain. I had made enough noise already, and making anymore would practically be asking for suicide.

I stayed lying on the ground for a few minutes until the pain subsided slightly, and I was able to hoist myself up from the ground. I tested whether I could put weight on my ankle, and when I tried, pain coursed through the area once again. I let out a quiet whimper, and immediately pulled my foot up from the ground.

I knew that I needed to get back to the highway as soon as I could. Chances were they had already found Sofia, and she was safe back at the highway. So, all I had to do was find my way back, which shouldn't be too difficult. I had a pretty fair sense of direction and location. It would be physically walking back to camp with my ankle that would cause problems.

After a minute of trying to move my ankle around and loosen it up, I realized I would just have to limp, and use every tree I could for support. I would have to take it slow, but at least I had a knife in case I came across any walkers.