my tears ricochet

Chapter Eighty Nine

Moonlight slanted across the generous landscape surrounding the Pine Vista Club. Ivy studied the distance and the shadows that shifted along the stretch of golf courses, walkers shuffling around the individual markers that waved miniature flags above where their hands could properly reach. Cold wind kept playing with the material and making it dance against tired strings, little bits of red fabric marking abandoned holes in the ground.

One overturned golf cart marked roughly the halfway point between the building and the razor wire like tree line that ran across the distant edge of land. Ivy had gone through earlier and left a haphazard pathway of fallen bodies in her wake, scattered like a trail of breadcrumbs all the way from the road to the main club itself.

The building and grounds had been mostly abandoned of any walkers when she first marked the place but frequent movement in and out lured some from the woods. Ivy had used her hatchet to catch each one and drive it down instead of risking the noise of her gun. Her trail had to be perfect and she couldn't afford any risks.

Ivy wanted Negan's people to scout out the bodies first to follow her clues. She didn't need them hearing her movements and catching her off guard.

The hatchet left intentionally messy kills behind. Her goal was convincing the people who had picked up her personal invitation that she was aimless and lacking in real ammunition. Three bodies dotted the ground across the stretch of overgrown playing space and a few more were piled outside the main doorway.

Sasha had marked out Shelton for visibility on that awful drive through Negan's maze of traps and blockades. It was how Ivy first discovered the golf course itself sitting just off of the main road cutting along the woods. The clubhouse itself sat on the top of a slight slope but the backend was all rock and a steep drop straight down entirely compared to the smoother front.

Ivy had lined herself up on her stomach across the roof and had a bit of coverage from the decorative flourish running across the peak of the shallowly pitched roof. It was designed to look like metal ivy running across the high point and she used it to prop her gun up against while she waited out the eventual threat.

And it had been hours of waiting.

The tiles reeked of tar and her body ached from keeping position. But she couldn't risk relaxing. Nobody was covering her back properly and she needed to wait out the eventuality of what was coming.

Ivy had taken out one delivery van and a truck. Five of Negan's men in total. Her mind couldn't help but ruthlessly recall the five people standing at the very first blockade and compare it to the symmetry of her crimes. Two bullets, one per each driver.

She held the gun the way Daryl taught her. She had shot the way Abraham coached her.

The van had veered off into the ditch and the truck itself flipped badly, killing three passengers with the motion. And Ivy had dutifully scavenged each gun from each body in turn, stashing them somewhere safe for later.

Five bodies meant five losses. And Negan could apparently feel loss.

Someone was coming.

Ivy just had to wait out every hour until they followed the clues.

She could survive being alone. And Ivy felt less afraid holding her rifle. A gun didn't make her invulnerable to destruction but she at least had better chances with it in her hands. She was miles from being that girl throwing a chair at a man just to survive. Now she had proper weapons meant to inflict damage.

A gun could make her strong. Her hatchet made her strong. She could survive because she was able to be strong.

One of the walkers closest to the very edge of the property suddenly veered off from it's specific ambling path. Ivy tracked the jerky movements through the scope and saw it drift towards the dark line of bushes. She locked in place as a bit of cherry red light flashed out, the clear evidence of someone smoking a cigarette.