The Dixon Bloodline

Chapter Nine

When morning came I received little to no sleep, sitting up in the tree once more. Letting out a small breath, I prepared myself for what was to come today, knowing I would have to keep on my search for Sophia. I had to follow after her tracks in an attempt to find her. I didn't know how long Sophia went in the night, or if she even found some kind of shelter. I was worried about her chances of making it alone through the night, especially considering the girl had no experience, supplies, or weapons. Descending from the tree, a walker-free area currently, I started after her tracks once more. The longer I followed the trail, the more confusing it became as Sophia had gone every which way, in what I assumed was desperation to find her way back to the highway and the group. The trail left me slightly disoriented, the fact that my method of regaining my sense of direction was with the sun, and it tended to be blocked by the foliage of the trees. I would have to scale almost the entire tree to be able to see the direction the sun was in currently, and I didn't have the time to waste for that, let alone I still didn't have Sophia by my side.

Nevertheless, I kept my will running, wanting to be able to find the girl alive, and somewhat well, if not traumatized. Sophia dragged me along with her, and if I made my way back to the group without her, I felt as if I would be blamed for her absence and possible death. That drove me to tread through the woods for hours, following her trail to the best of my ability, though I knew I was probably slower than what Dad could have done. My feet grew tired over the hours, having taken no breaks, though I kept persisting that I continued. Time was of the essence, I already had to stop once due to the nightfall and was far behind Sophia. Finally, the pin needles feeling that constantly was stabbing into my feet after every step, my tired state, and the lack of food or water I had after traveling for so long without stopping caught up to me. There was an hour left before the sun dropped, meaning I would have to stop for the night and set up camp soon. I however needed a break first, even though I tried to avoid it, which left me struggling to climb another tree to keep from any looming threats. The climb to safety took longer than I would have liked, leaving me more tired than I wished, as I settled down on a branch having another small 'feast' to myself. The concerning thing was now I was all out of cherries and had a third of my water bottle left filled. I had almost nothing left, and it was only the beginning of day two out here in search of the girl, and with no way to restock at the moment meant I had to hurry my search, or I would eventually have to turn back.

With my short rest and refill done, I pushed my backpack on my back once more, preparing to climb down to begin my search once again. Gripping the branch I had been resting on, I began descending from branch to branch to get to the ground. I was maybe seven feet above the floor, making it to the next branch before a sickening crack was let loose as the branch and I went tumbling toward the ground. I didn't expect it, the quick fright getting a small screech from me as I slammed into the ground, the branch slamming into my ankle, and getting another scream as I felt the bone pop out of the socket dislocating it. Instant pain shot through my ankle, causing me to cry out more as I pulled my leg toward me in reaction, bundling up into a fetal position as I tried not to start bawling into the dirt. Ragged breathing was quick to follow as I looked at my ankle with watery eyes, trying to remember how Dad and Merle taught me how to pop things back into place, as we had done to Merle's shoulder after a small motorcycle accident. Knowing this was about to hurt like a bitch, and I had already made enough noise, I grabbed a clean flannel from my bag before chomping down on it. Positioning my hands around my ankle, I felt where the bone was compared to where it should have been using my other ankle as a guide, prepping to relocate the bone. More deep breaths were needed to keep me calm, and on a count of three, I forced my ankle back into the socket.