Chapter 128: Ivy Found

I traveled through the roads of Jackson Township on a sturdy mountain bike with Daisy seated behind me, her arms wrapped securely around my waist. The afternoon sun cast darkness across the abandoned streets as I pedaled with enhanced speed and endurance that my virus abilities provided.

I was pedaling so fast that I was genuinely concerned about breaking the bike’s mechanical components, but the sturdy frame was holding up remarkably well under the stress. Maybe I should have taken one of our salvaged motorbikes instead, but a simple bicycle offered significant advantages when navigating through debris-filled streets and narrow alleyways. If we encountered infected or other threats, the bike’s maneuverability could mean the difference between escape and disaster.

Daisy seemed genuinely surprised by the speed I was maintaining, her grip tightening around my waist as we took corners and navigated obstacles that would have been challenging at normal speeds. Her cheek was pressed against my back, and I could feel her breathing slightly elevated from the combination of speed and anxiety about what we might find at our destination.

"Are you okay, or do you want me to slow down a bit?" I asked over my shoulder, concerned about her comfort and safety. The last thing I needed was for her to get motion sick during our rescue mission.

"I... I’m fine, please continue," Daisy insisted, though I could hear the slight tremor in her voice that suggested she was pushing through her discomfort out of concern for Ivy.

I nodded and maintained our pace, weaving through the increasingly familiar streets that led toward the pharmacy district. The route took us past several landmarks I’d memorized during previous scavenging expeditions—an abandoned gas station where I’d found useful supplies, a collapsed overpass that required careful navigation, and the remains of a small shopping center that had been completely looted during the initial outbreak.

As we approached the pharmacy, I began slowing our speed and scanning the area for any signs of danger or unusual activity. The building looked exactly as I remembered from my previous visit with Rachel—partially damaged but structurally sound, with evidence of previous scavenging activity but no obvious signs of current occupation.

"There," I said, pointing toward a narrow alley that ran behind the pharmacy building. "That’s where we’ll look first. If Ivy was being cautious, she would have used the rear entrance to avoid being seen from Infected and dodge them maybe."

I guided the bike into the alley and immediately spotted a familiar figure standing near the pharmacy’s back door.

Thank God. There was a possibility she wasn’t there and went somewhere else after all.

Ivy was there, just as we’d hoped, but something was clearly wrong with the situation.

She stood motionless with her back to us, wearing her usual practical clothing—dark pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and the white medical coat she’d salvaged from one of our earlier pharmacy raids. Her hands were tucked into the coat’s pockets, and her posture suggested someone who was lost in thought rather than actively searching for medical supplies.

"Miss Ivy!" Daisy called out as I brought the bike to a stop about twenty feet away from her.

Ivy turned toward us slowly, and I immediately noticed something that made my enhanced senses go into high alert. There was blood on her clothing—dark stains on the sleeve of her shirt and what appeared to be scratches or wounds on her neck.

"Ivy!" I shouted, dropping the bike and rushing toward her with panic rising in my chest. "What happened? Are you injured?"

"Nothing significant," Ivy replied in her characteristic stoic manner, but I was already examining her injuries with growing alarm.

"This doesn’t look like nothing," I said, gently grasping her arm to get a better look at the wounds. "Were you attacked? Did infected get into the building somehow?"

The injuries were concerning but didn’t appear to be bite marks from infected creatures. The wounds on her arm looked more like deep scratches or cuts from sharp objects, and the marks on her neck had a similar pattern. But the amount of blood suggested these weren’t minor injuries from moving through debris or broken glass.

"I need to check if you’ve been bitten," I said, my hands already moving toward the buttons of her shirt with medical urgency overriding normal social considerations. "If there’s any chance of infection..."

Please don’t tell me that...

"Ryan, stop," Ivy said calmly, but I was too panicked to listen immediately.

I opened her shirt enough to examine her upper torso and neck especially for bite marks, my heart racing as I searched for the puncture wounds that would indicate infected contact. But her skin, while bearing some minor scratches, showed no signs of the devastating injuries that infected attacks typically caused.

"I don’t see any bites," I said with relief, though I was still concerned about the wounds she had sustained. "But these cuts are deeper than they should be from normal scavenging activities."

"What happened to you, Miss Ivy?" Daisy asked, her voice filled with worry as she approached us cautiously.

"I injured myself while searching through the pharmacy’s storage areas," Ivy replied with the same emotionless tone. "Some of the shelving had sharp edges and debris that I didn’t notice in the dim lighting."

I wanted to scold her for taking such risks, but first I needed to treat her injuries properly. "Why did you come here alone?" I asked while examining her wounds more carefully. "I’ve told you repeatedly that if you need anything, I’m willing to help with supply runs or whatever else you require."

Ivy looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite interpret. "You still haven’t agreed to fulfill my first request," she said matter-of-factly.

I froze in embarrassment as I remembered exactly what she was referring to. Ivy had asked, with her characteristic clinical detachment, if she could observe one of my intimate encounters with the women in our household. She’d claimed it was for educational purposes, but the request had been so unexpected and inappropriate that I’d been avoiding the topic entirely.

"What request?" Daisy asked with innocent curiosity. "If Miss Ivy asked for help with something, I’d be willing to assist if I could."

"There’s no way you’d be willing to fulfill this particular request," I said hurriedly, heat flooding my face as I tried to redirect the conversation. "It’s not... it’s not something that you might be able to do...."

But Ivy approached Daisy with renewed interest, as if intrigued by this unexpected development. "Are you serious about being willing to help?" She asked. "Because that would require... have you already had sexual relations with Ryan?"

Daisy froze entirely, her face cycling through several shades of red as she processed what Ivy was suggesting. "I... what... no, I haven’t..." She stammered, clearly overwhelmed by the direct question.

"Alright, enough!" I said, my face crimson with embarrassment as I took Ivy’s arm and guided her toward the pharmacy entrance. "Let’s get you inside so I can treat these wounds properly."

The interior of the pharmacy was exactly as I remembered from my previous visit—partially looted but still containing significant medical supplies. I led Ivy to a clear area near what had been the consultation counter and retrieved my medical kit from my backpack.

Over the past months, I’d learned basic wound treatment techniques from watching Ivy care for my various combat injuries. Now I found myself applying those same skills to help her, using antiseptic to clean her cuts and gauze to create proper bandages.

"You’ve learned quite a bit from observing my work," Ivy commented as I carefully cleaned the scratches on her arm.

"That’s because you always treated my wounds with such skill and patience," I replied, focusing on applying the antiseptic thoroughly. "Even when I came back hurt from particularly dangerous missions, you never made me feel like I was being reckless or stupid."

Ivy glanced up at me for a moment of uncharacteristic silence, something shifting in her normally impassive expression that I couldn’t quite identify.

"Why did you really come here alone?" I asked again, my voice softer as I worked on bandaging her arm. "And don’t tell me it was just for medical supplies."

Ivy turned her gaze toward the pharmacy’s front windows, staring at nothing in particular. "I wanted time alone to think," she said finally.

I didn’t know how to respond to that admission. Ivy had always been one of the most self-contained members of our household, someone who seemed comfortable with solitude and rarely expressed emotional needs. But something in her tone suggested deeper concerns that she wasn’t ready to discuss openly.

I wanted her to be happy, if that was possible for someone with her reserved personality, but I had no idea how to help her achieve that goal. And I certainly wasn’t willing to fulfill her voyeuristic request as a solution to whatever psychological issues she might be experiencing.

"This might sting," I warned as I moved to treat the scratches on her neck, applying antiseptic ointment to the wounds with careful precision.

Ivy didn’t react to the potential discomfort, maintaining her characteristic stoic expression throughout the treatment process.

"Would you prefer to go somewhere else?" I asked as I worked. "If you’re not comfortable at our house for some reason, we could help you find alternative accommodations. The Municipal Office has rooms available, or we could set up a private space for you."

Ivy remained silent for several moments before finally responding. "I’m fine where I am."

"You don’t seem fine," I said gently, studying her face for any signs of what might be bothering her.

After another long pause, Ivy asked me something that caught me completely off guard. "What are you planning to do with the alien Box once you’ve recovered the final stone from the Screamer?"

The question startled me because Ivy rarely showed interest in our strategic planning or the larger threats we were facing. Her focus typically remained on immediate medical needs rather than long-term survival concerns. She rarely to never asked about what I had revealed back then.

"I’m hoping to use it to better understand the alien race," I replied honestly. "Maybe find out if we can use their technology as a weapon or defense against infected by somehow controlling or redirecting their behavior patterns."

"Since it was created by aliens, aren’t you concerned that using it might be suicidal?" Ivy asked me.

She had a point yes, maybe it could backfire on me.

"I do have concerns about the risks," I admitted. "But staying in the dark about their capabilities won’t help us prepare for future threats. The device might also give us location information about other alien weapons like the ones we found with the Frost Walker and Screamer. We might prevent other deaths."

Ivy remained silent, processing my response .

"If you want me to destroy it instead, I’ll consider that option," I said, watching her reaction carefully.

"If I asked you to destroy it, would you actually do it?" She asked, meeting my eyes directly for the first time during our conversation.

I thought about the question while continuing to clean her neck wounds. "I would destroy it after using it once to gather intelligence, if you truly believe it’s too dangerous to keep. Your medical and scientific judgment has always been reliable."

"Why would you trust my opinion on something this important?"

I finished applying the antiseptic and looked at her directly, smiling at her lightly. "Because you’re an important member of our group, and you’re someone important to me personally. I trust your judgment because I know you care about our collective wellbeing."

For a brief moment, Ivy’s eyes widened slightly, as if my words had genuinely shocked her. Her normally impassive expression flickered, and I saw something vulnerable in her gaze that I’d never witnessed before. Then she lowered her gaze, and a small smile spread across her lips.

It was just a small smile, but it was something I had never seen on Ivy’s face before. The expression was so unexpected and beautiful that I found myself frozen, simply admiring this rare glimpse of her emotional capacity.

But then Ivy raised her gaze back to her normal impassive state and asked, "Haven’t you forgotten what you need to do next?"

I found myself stumbling over my words, caught off-guard by the sudden return to her stoic demeanor. Before I could formulate a proper response, Ivy stood up and began checking her bandages, apparently satisfied with my medical treatment.

"We should return home before dark," she said. "The others will be worried if we’re gone too long."

The return trip presented a logistical challenge since we now had three people and only one bicycle. After some discussion, we arranged ourselves with Ivy sitting behind me and Daisy positioned in front, though the arrangement was clearly uncomfortable for everyone involved.

"This is so embarrassing," Daisy said, her face bright red as she tried to maintain her balance on the bike’s front crossbar. "I don’t know if I can manage this for the entire trip home."

"Just hold on tight," I assured her, though I had to admit the seating arrangement was far from ideal. "We’ll take it slowly and make sure everyone stays safe."

"Y...yes...haa!"

It couldn’t have been more embarrassing and right after my face collided with her chest.

"S...sorry!" I apologised in hurry.

Daisy simply pushed back her glasses her face bright red.