AN: I do not own The Walking Dead, all characters and content not created by the author belongs to AMC and the respective owners of TWD. Please enjoy!

Chapter 1

The maze had come together nicely, just a few finished touches were needed. The traps and chokepoints were set, and the central hub overlooking the entire operation was finally wired up. Over the course of several months, the abandoned strip mall parking lot had been painstakingly converted, with only a few minor setbacks. The biggest pain factor had been keeping the walkers away during construction – this had taken up the most time, constantly clearing the area every morning and evening. Not letting them build up was key – the more they were allowed to gather, the more they grew.

Lucy wasn't ready for them… yet. She wanted to see them burn, die again, turn into ash and blood and gore. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, a mental signal that it was time to get back to work. She stood on the outskirts of her death maze, eyes hardened by the living and the dead. She was tired, so tired. No time for sleep, no rest for the wicked. She gingerly made her way through the maze, eyeballing weak points, oiling hinges and checking gasoline levels. She checked the heights of the walkways to ensure taller walkers couldn't somehow climb up, and pulled and tugged to check their weight bearing. All systems checked out. This had given her purpose, toiling outside, researching in old dusty library books. Scavenging had been harder, but on her own food was a lot easier to handle.

On my own, her heart ached. She missed the sounds of children, laughing and shrieking. She even missed the whining that used to set her teeth on edge. No time for memories. She was only twenty-six, but felt twice that some days. After the months of hard labor and questionable nutrition, sometimes she felt like death herself.

Provisions were needed now, before the big show. She didn't know how long it took to gather a massive amount of walkers, and dying of thirst or hunger waiting around wasn't an option. Her body was already scrawny from not enough calories and too much hauling, hammering, drilling. She silently thanked her father for taking her to job sites and letting her help out on renovations. Are you alive out there somewhere, Dad? she thought with a pang in her stomach.

The inspection was complete, and she passed with flying colors. She would award herself by scavenging some nice hard liquor- not the hodgepodge of beers she had stashed away. Something smooth and strong. She climbed up to the central hub and grabbed her backpack, checking that her knife was secure and her pistol loaded in its holster. The holster chaffed a little, especially since she was wearing shorts due to the heat, so she had a green bandana wrapped around part of the strap. A gift, given by proud little faces. I'm so sorry. She absentmindedly rubbed the bandana with her thumb, reconstructing her mental walls against old memories and old regrets.

She used the walkway from the hub to an adjoining rooftop, a genius idea that made it so much easier to load up the hub without navigating through the maze each time. The building might have been intended to be a parking structure, back when those things mattered. She needed to check her traps, hopefully snagging a rabbit or two, and find some more essentials. She needed some more CDs, that was for sure. There was only so much Fleetwood Mac and "Top 20 Hits of the 80's" she could handle. Last time she checked the sound system, she had Toto's "Africa" stuck in her head for a week.

At the top of the hills nearby, she turned around to marvel at the monstrosity she made. She had seen so much death. Just a few more weeks and she would take out as many as she possibly could, then she could finally rest her weary bones. She was so tired.

/ / / / /

A few miles away, a group of men gathered outside an old armory, taking inventory of their loot. It had already been picked over several times over, leaving a mishmash of bullets and what Snake called "lady guns." Kevin, the sniveling bastard, had proven himself useful for once and found a back room of confiscated equipment that previous scavenger's crowbars hadn't managed to pry open. It was not immune, however, to a well-placed chain and a 300-plus horsepower truck.

A dark-haired man with a well-groomed beard was showing off some of the prizes to a bemused looking man in a leather jacket and a deadly looking baseball bat slung over his shoulder. "Shit, boss, we got here grenades, assault rifles, ammunition out the ass! No more pussy lady handguns, either. Even got some more .22 rounds at least!" He reached into a bag and pulled out a .44 Magnum. "Look at this Dirty Harry looking motherfucker, though! Ain't it a good haul, Negan?"

Negan took the gun and rolled it over in his hands, inspecting it carefully. He cracked a smile. "Snake, you are a treasure amongst men. Good work, boys! Shit like this just tickles my balls and makes Lucille happy!" He switched the bat, his ever present lady Lucille, to his other shoulder and dropped the Magnum into the bag. "Let's roll out, dickwads!" He didn't often go scavenging much, usually leaving it to his mean, but it sure got the blood pumping. He'd maybe have Dwight go get one of his wives as soon as they got back, if they weren't too busy being fucking annoying. Release some of this…excitable energy.

Kevin, a scrawny man with twitchy eyes, grabbed a bag and trudged up to the boss. "Hey…Negan? Uhh. So, I used to know this area around here- dealer used to live a few miles and sometimes we'd drive around, shoot the shit and get high. Anyways, so uh-"

"This story got an end to it, limp dick? I ain't got all day."

Kevin cringed at the nickname. Jesus, one time with a broad and too much whiskey and she blabs it all over Sanctuary. He considered who he was speaking to, though, and let it go. "YEAH! Sorry. So uh, there's a mall nearby, right? Only one for miles, pretty decent-sized, you know? Last I saw, it was pretty clear of walkers. It's pretty out of the way. Prob-probably not a great place for a mall now that I think about it." Negan's eyes were growing dark, clenching his jaw. Not a good sign. "Right, right. Get on with it. So, part of it was being renovated before- uh…just before. Yeah. Might be some useful shit in there. Copper, building supplies. I think there was a gun store too, or maybe one of those outdoorsy type stores. You know?"

Negan clapped his hand on the man's shoulder. Kevin spouted nonsense half the time (really, more than half the time), and made himself so nervous he looked like a twitching Chihuahua, but on a rare occasion he was incredibly useful. He had proven himself today, and Negan decided it was time to throw the dog a bone, bolster his confidence a little. "Fuck me, that's the most useful thing I think you've ever said, limp dick!" He spoke to a few of the men, deciding drivers for the trucks, then strolled over to the pick-up and hopped in, gesturing to Kevin. "How's about we have a nice little ride, Kevin," he said, emphasizing the usage of his real name. Make him feel good, it builds the loyalty. No sense in scaring the guy, he already practically shit himself every day from nerves. Kevin chuckled nervously, eyeing the bat wrapped in barbed wire sitting next to Negan.

"Would ya mind buckling her in, Kev? I can't reach it from the driver's seat." Negan said, starting up the engine. "Gotta protect my lady, and all that."

"Oh! Sure, definitely. Yeah." Kevin made to reach for the middle seat buckle, wondering how he would actually secure a baseball bat in a seatbelt.

Negan laughed and swatted his hand away. "I'm just fuckin' with you man! She's a baseball bat! She don't need to be buckled the fuck in!"

Kevin chuckled again nervously. This was the first time he had ever been alone with Negan, without the guys, and he didn't know what to do or where to look. He was getting increasingly worried about the nervous sweat accumulating on his back and ass. He really didn't want to sweat through to the fabric beneath and have some new terrible nickname. Negan didn't seem phased by the clear discomfort of his passenger, in fact, he reveled in making people uncomfortable. Comfort bred complacency, complacency bred mistakes. Mistakes kill, especially in this world.

"You wanna listen to some fuckin' Chuck Berry? Man, that is some fuckin' MUSIC. Oh-riginal rock n' roll. You like Chuck Berry, limp dick?" Negan said, putting in a CD. He didn't bother for an answer.

Kevin had never heard of Chuck Berry, but Negan's enthusiasm made him inclined to agree. "Sure, yeah, man. Chuck Berry's the shit." Negan smiled in agreement and drummed along to the music as they rode along, Kevin occasionally stammering out a direction.

A few minutes later, the caravan made their way to a convenience store on small hill, overlooking the mall. They all got out and stood in silence, a dozen men rendered mute.

In the parking lot of the semi-constructed section of a mall, was a gigantic manmade structure. Pieces of sheet metal, vehicles parts, and wooden boards formed a bizarre, schizophrenic-looking maze. They could see walls weaving in and out of each other, accompanied by walkways with railings strategically placed around the tops of the walls. Two imposing gates made of a dark, rusted looking metal were situated on either end of the maze.

Kevin blinked and wondered what the hell they were looking at. Finally, Negan broke the silence.

"What in the everloving fuck is that?"

Al, one of the older men in the outfit, was squinting through binoculars, scoping out the monstrosity of twisted metal, barbed wire. "One sign says 'Welcome to the Thunderdome, Bitches' while the other one says 'Come on in and go fuck yourselves,' I think." Negan chuckled while Al continued to scan. "No walkers though that I can see, boss. Can't see anyone, in fact. Whaddya think, some sort of looney?"

Negan squinted into the sun, considering the unexpected twist. "Well, I can't say I don't want to fuckin' meet the crazy son of a bitch that built this! Sheeeeeyit! It looks cool as fuck!" He paced back and forth, swinging Lucille while he took in the bizarre metal structure.

After a moment, he spoke. "Kevin and Snake, you two stay here and scout this place out." The chosen two nodded, trying not to look disappointed at another night out on the road, probably involving an unstable person. "Report anything fuckin' weird or fucked up on the walkie." He hesitated.
"Scratch that, just report ANYTHING back. Any movement, any motherfucker that wanders in. We'll take this haul back to Sanctuary." He pointed Lucille at Kevin. "DO NOT FUCK THIS UP. Whoever made that might be fuckin' dead, it might be a goddamn trap, who the fuck knows. But color me the fuck intrigued." Kevin gulped. With that, the left-behinders grabbed some rations as the rest of the men loaded up.

Negan tossed the keys to the pick-up truck at Kevin, who immediately panicked and let the keys smack him in the face. Negan rolled his eyes. "We'll leave you geniuses a truck in case shit gets fucked up."

Snake nodded and shoved Kevin towards the convenience store. "C'mon Kev, there's gotta be rooftop access inside."

Kevin muttered agreement, then turned to watch their crew disappear over the hill. This was going to get weird, he just knew it.

/ / / / /

AN: Thanks for reading! This is my first fanfiction story, so I would appreciate any feedback! I hope you enjoy the story- feel free to leave a review!