Alone.

It's how I've spent most of my time since everything changed, since humanity fell and the dead took charge. I've found refuge with groups before, but the world has made people cold and unforgiving, driven only by instinct and the need to survive. I've decided that solitude is the safest.

I was eager to forget time when the clocks stopped turning and the batteries on the last remaining watches ran out, but I know it was evening when I saw the clouds of thick black smoke on the horizon. I didn't think much of it, as long as I stay a few miles away I can avoid whatever, or whoever, started the fire. Getting closer, the southern heat made the smell over powering, a mix of ash and rot. It was the unmistakable smell of burning dead, and the realization made me cringe.

My shoulders were thin from malnourishment and the straps of my book bag dug into my collarbone, despite there only being a bottle of water, a glock, and what was left of a rabbit I had caught and smoked the day before. I keep my machete on my hip, it taps on my knee with every step I take and keeps me focused.

Normally, I'd change direction and keep my distance from anything that could possibly mean people. I rarely take the risk of exposing myself to other people because, while I am a crack shot and a skilled fighter, I'm only 5'1" and 120 pounds. I was running low on water though, and I had eaten the day before so I had some extra strength, so the least I could do was stay hidden and check it out.

When I got within a mile of the smoke I could see the trees of the forest I was in start to thin out to what appeared to be a dirt road with a large steel wall on the other side. There was a lone walker clawing at the wall, I could barely see t through the trees but I could hear it's urgent growls, it knows there's something on the other side of those walls that he can consume. Avoiding the walker I stayed within the tree line, staying parallel to the wall until I came to the corner and also the end of the forest, my only cover. Right as I was about to walk out of the forest I noticed the large trucks parked along the far end of the wall and I dropped to my stomach, praying that no one had seen me. I didn't breathe while I listened for anything, and I picked up voices being carried by the wind, but couldn't pinpoint anything else. I took a shaky breath and peered through the brush I was hiding behind, and saw a handful of people, all men from what I could make, loading boxes onto the big trucks. A couple stood guard a few feet away, holding impressive automatic weapons. They were entering this enclosed place through a large gate, I could see the doors hanging open as the men came and went through them. I wasn't sure if I should wait it out or try to turn around now and hope no one was paying attention. I laid back down on my stomach, sliding my book bag over my shoulder and pulling out the glock I only used for emergencies. I cocked one in the chamber and was about to put it in my back pocket when I heard the footstep and a twig snap under its weight. I rolled onto my back with my gun pointed only to be met with the barrel of a shotgun. I froze and I knew I fucked up by doing so.

"Drop it, or I will shoot you." He was a tall, lean man, and I wasn't sure which was more startling: the fresh blood splattered on his shirt or the wide grin on his face like this was fun for him. I clenched my teeth but set my gun slowly on the ground, raising my hands above my head.

"Ah, I like a girl who listens. You listening means I don't have to kill you." He sneered at me.

"Let me go, I have nothing for you to take." I said calmly. Inside I was falling apart, but men like this can smell fear and I wouldn't let him know I was afraid. He laughed and I grimaced.

"See, that's the thing honey, that's not for me to decide," he gave me a look up and down, "now stand up, don't make me drag you."

I kept my grimace as I stood up slowly, letting my hands fall to my side as he motioned for me to start walking towards the trucks. My heart was racing bc without a weapon I was no match for this man let alone the rest of them over at the trucks. None the less, I raised my chin as I walked out of the forest and into the open, the man behind me. He nudged me in the back with the barrel of his gun to make me go faster, and I stumbled which only made him chuckle.

"Well, well, well. Where's you find her? She's a cutie." Hooted one of the men as we got closer. I ignored him and stopped next to the truck, crossing my arms as I scanned the faces of the men who were taking me in. The one who had made the crude comment approached with a smug smile on his face, reaching out a hand to my waist. I could feel his hot breath on my face as he tried to pull me closer, and before he could say anything I punched him square in the Adam's apple.

He started choking for air and dropped, and the man who had the shot gun was on me instantly, he grabbed me up by my hair and raised his hand but a voice stopped him.

"Now Simon, you know I don't like hitting women." I couldn't see who had said it bc of the way the man, Simon I'm assuming, was holding my hair, but he quickly let me go and I spun away and backed up right into someone else. I yelped and jumped away, but a pair of leather bound hands held me steady and turned me around.

Before me was trouble, I could see it in his dark eyes and in the way his grin was oozing arrogance. He released me and I took a step back taking in the whole picture: leather jacket, slicked back hair, he towered over my small frame.

"Well, what do we have here? What's your name darlin?" His drawl was smooth like honey. I swallowed my fear and didn't break eye contact.

"My name is Frankie, I don't want any trouble." I said with a steady voice. I felt confident having the weight of my knife in my hip. The man extended his hand, his grin never faltering. I reluctantly placed my hand in his and he raised it to his mouth, placing a kiss on my knuckles.

"I'm Negan, and boy, is it a pleasure to meet you."