The dead had long since closed in on the lone farm house that stood proudly on a hill that had somehow escaped most of the carnage in the earliest stages of the apocalyptic state of the world. Amy knew it was only a matter of time before the inevitable doom showed its face on her doorstep.

There were others for a bit she had kept company with, though some hadn't returned from a run into town and others she had witnessed fall victim to the bites and rips of the walking dead.

Now, Amy sat on the couch with her shotgun in hand with the last box of bullets on a small coffee table in front of her. Outside she could hear them growling, clawing and longing to sink their rotten teeth into her flesh like they had done so many others.

She would never accept her fate - not when she had lasted this long and had a will to live and beat the odds. One by one her small group had dwindled until she sat alone in the darkening atmosphere.

Amy turned, perching herself on her knees on the couch when the sound of her wooden fence being plowed through caught her attention. There were headlights - lots of them; and the herd of dead ones began to drop as four trucks with plows on the front began to sweep where her front yard had once been.

Little by little the herd that swept like a sea of death over her property turned their attention toward the commotion, inevitably stumbling to their deaths for a second time as the trucks steamrolled their decaying bodies.

Amy knew the visitors could mean her demise just as well as the dead. Every human left, she presumed, had done something terrible and inhumane to remain alive. While she was no exception it meant keeping both her guard and her gun up.

That's why, when the door handle began to turn she took a hard defensive position. Amy had managed to maintain her home and giving it up without a fight was not an option. Still, a part of her hoped for the best when the stranger entered through the door.

"Don't move," she warned with a casual hardness in her unshaken voice. Amy cocked the shotgun to allow the man a chance to recognize what she was working with.

"Easy now, doll." He put his hands up as he took a step inside. "I'm not here for a fight."

"Just keep your hands right where they are."

He smiled in a way that oozed with confidence despite the double barrel pointed toward his face. "I'll play by your rules now, doll, if you play by mine later."

"First off, I'm not your doll... second, I'll decide what rules I'll play by."

"Fair enough." He nodded once with a grin and held her determined, hard stare. While her eyes were icy and laced with hostile distrust, his were locked in a playful squint that matched his grin that just wouldn't quit.

"What do you want?"

"I'm here to save you, d..." He caught himself before finishing off the term of endearment that typically rolled off his tongue with ease. After clearing his throat he asked, "What's your name?"

She wasn't one for games and with the chaos still ensuing outside she decided to honest. "Amy Jones... about a bland as you can get. Why... what's it matter?"

"I just wanted to address you properly, Amy. Seeing as you were offended by my use of the word doll."

"What's your name?"

He held a strong hand out, prompting Amy to shift her barrel from his face to his groin. "Negan..." he swallowed hard now but managed a chuckle, "You know I prefer that shit pointed at my face."

"I'm not interested in what you prefer. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to save you," he reminded her.

"I don't need to be saved."

Negan glanced over his shoulder out the front door. "Well I'd have to disagree with that. You have a hell of a fuckin' problem on your hands and you ain't taking down a herd that big with a damn shotgun."

"What if I don't go with you? Will you try to force me?"

Negan chuckled louder now and looked around, shaking his head before regaining eye contact with her. "No... no I would never fuckin' force you to do anything Amy. But i would have to leave her saying that you are far dumber than you appear."

"Is that right?"

"Fuck yeah it is. You have these dead fucks out here ready to eat you... and whole fuckin' lot of 'em at that." He eyed her attire and power stance. "Now, I can tell you can take care of yourself but shit, no one person is taking that on alone. Hell, my boys out there are struggling in those big ass trucks."

"Boys in bigass trucks... a big talker with a..." Amy glanced at the weapon in his hand, "...baseball bat and a leather jacket. Don't think for a second I'm going to go with you in exchange for being some love slave."

"Shit..." Negan made a face. "What the fuck do you think I am?"

"I have no fucking idea."

"Well if it means anything I don't tolerate that shit. At the compound where we live I've killed men for attempting any kind of... predatory behavior."

"Must be the truth... you just said it."

Negan smiled wide. "You are a very interesting woman."

"Hardly..." Amy huffed a breath from all the adrenaline as her hands squeezed the shotgun with more force.

"I beg to differ."

"I've worked on this farm my whole life, wore mostly blue jeans and white tank tops, dated the neighbor boy in high school and can wear the hell out of a ponytail."

Negan laughed a little louder. "And after high school? Seems like it's been a good ten years..."

"Fourteen." Amy shook her head and got back to the point. "Look I -"

"Come with me." Negan genuinely tried to sway her now. "Your chances suck right now if you were to stay and I'm sure it's fuckin' hard because I have a feeling this is your family's home from before, but there comes a time when we all have to let shit go. I'm not going to fuckin' hurt you, you won't be a slave to anything. I have a place where you will fucking thrive honey."'

"I'm not your honey." Amy swallowed hard but eased up with her shotgun. "What's the catch?"

"I need people. You're a strong person."

"You don't know that."

"I don't want to brag but I have a very useful skill of being able to read people and Amy... you are a strong fucking person who I want on my staff. Hell, I might just give you one of the good rooms right off the bat with a window, some wine and shit you don't look like the video game type but I got that shit too."

"Negan..." a voice came over the radio that was attached to his belt. "We gotta get the hell out of here... one truck almost got stuck in the dead sludge."

Negan looked at Amy with a shrug. "What's it gunna be? You walkin' out this door with me or are you going down with the ship?"