Chapter Three: I Missed Ya
I miss music. All the songs I listened to when I felt like I couldn't take it anymore were all available at the tap of a screen. Times like these, when I'm huddled up in some vacant building, is when I really crave music. I'm drifting in and out of consciousness due to the pills I took earlier. I wonder when he will notice they're gone, and what he'll do if he realizes it was me. The thought makes me snicker.
They didn't need them that bad.
I close my eyes and open them, in an instant, it's morning. The cold pierces through my sleeping bag like lightning shooting through my body. It makes me not want to wake up, but I gather the strength, crawl out of my warm place, and stand up to face the sun's shining light.
It's another day, another few miles, and more searching. I've stumbled upon some food here and there, but oddly, I've not run into any of Negan's men in the last week.
Negan will show his face soon enough.
Around noon I take a break alongside the road. I'm drinking from my canteen when I see a cat come up to me. The thing looks kind of healthy, however, it has patchy fur. I used to love cats, I think, watching the animal walk around me. "Come here," I coo, holding my hand out for it to sniff. "Come on, little guy."
It's rubbing up against my hand, and I feel something in my chest soften. It brings me back to the times I woke up to my own pet sleeping by me or waking me up early to feed him. It's a good feeling.
I give the cat some food to eat, just some old bits of jerky, and silently watch him. I connect with the animal more than I have with anyone person before. Animals are easier to understand. They always have a reason for the things they do. The food chain is sound and reasonable. There are no feelings in the animal kingdom.
The cat follows me as I walk aimlessly down the empty country road. Leafless trees lined either side of us like dead skeletons. A clear, bright blue sky slowly turned into a beautiful display of violet and orange. I made my way to a hill, in a clearing, high above the rest of the world, I began to watch the huge setting sun. It's radiant colors were spectacular, like nothing I've ever seen. The pale golden light made everything look like a painting.
I try hard to remember this scene. My eyes begin to water from the cold and I blink hard. The cat seems cold, too, I think. So, I take off my head scarf and wrap the warm cloth around the animal, tying it around her neck. She seems to take to it and lays in my lap, and we sit together, in this wheat field, watching the Earth glow for us.
Night falls soon and I continue walking. This time, I take a path less traveled, and wind my way down a dirt pathway. The cat is still following in my footsteps. I hear her little feet hitting the hard mud after me. There's still some sunlight, and I begin to wonder just where this pathway leads to. Usually these dirt paths lead to a farmhouse or another county road.
Further, further into the black forest I walk. The light is gone now. Up ahead, though, I hear a commotion and a sense of foreboding impales my chest like an ancient spear. There's bright lights and desperate yelling just ahead, over the muddy ridge.
I get down low and crawl to look down on a scene that shocks me. Those people, the beautiful ones, all on their knees. And, THEM.
I feel a heat rise up in my chest as I ready my rifle, and begin to scan the area. There's too many of them, I think. Why are there so many?
They Alexandria people are upset. Crying. What have they done to deserve this?
Then, like some sort of hero, a man steps from the RV in front of them. I get a good look at him in my scope and my heart skips a beat. "It's him," I whisper. He's all lanky charisma and devilish smiles. His words are harsh, and I have no doubt about what he's about to do to those people.
He's in my scope, but there's too many tree limbs in the way to line it up. I could get closer, but at what risk? I begin to question my involvement in this whole thing. Another part of me pulls at my curiosity and excitement.
He's talking, loudly, his voice echoes into the trees. I look at the cat that has curled up at my side.
"Get outta here, girl," I warn. "You're not gonna like this." Her wide eyes just stare at me. I shake my head, and look into my scope once more. Negan is giving a speech. I think back to the stories of Helen of Troy and Odysseus. It's theater. He's scaring them, and by the looks on their faces, he's succeeded in doing so.
His bat cracks down on denim giant's skull. Abraham. It's difficult to watch, even for me. I cringe. But, I realize something. What must it feel like to be his friends, there, on their knees, watching him getting beaten to nothing but a rotten tomato?
"Daryl," I say, as I watch him lose his cool. He's throwing punches at the leader now. His anger must have been too much, I think. They throw him in the back of some sort of animal control truck.
Then, another Alexandrian gets his head beat in.
It's not easy to watch a second time either.
My emotions get the best of me. I slide down the embankment, rifle in hand, and approach Negan.
He turns his head towards me. A hint of surprise crosses his face before it quickly changes to that perfect devilish smile.
"Well," he says lowly, using all of his theatrics. "You must be that bitch who's been stealing all of my shit." He throws his hands out wide, laughing, and just keeps smiling. "Now, would you look at THIS? Two birds with one stone."
I watch him, silently, carefully. He's dangerous, I think. He must have lost it when the world went to shit. Now, a cult of worshipers surround him. A big man in a small world. He's dark, dirty, and violent.
"WELL?" He motions. Every eye on me and him at the moment.
I lay my rifle down, along with my backpack and handgun. I then hold my hands up.
"What. The. Fuck?!" He laughs harder now, but this time, he walks towards me.
He's close to me. It's hard not to slightly tremble with his suffocating presence so near.
"Did the cat get your tongue?" He asks, threading his gloved and bloodied hand into my hair, getting a big handful of it, and then forcefully tugging down. I'm at an angle to where the only thing I'm seeing is his face.
His eyes search mine, but I'm distant, I'm not there. He won't find anything there.
A moment of silence passes and he shoves me in the direction of his guards.
"Take her. Put her in there with dumbass." He orders before turning his attention back to the sobbing Alexandrians.
I'm roughly thrown into the back of the truck with Daryl, who is crying uncontrollably, beating his fists against the steel door.
"Daryl?" I question, my voice hoarse. "Daryl, stop."
He collapses in a heap of sweaty exhaustion, his back against the side of the truck. "Who.. Who did he kill?" He asks me.
My blue eyes lower. My heart beats hard in my chest. This man before me, reduced to nothing but a quivering child, worried about his dead friend. I don't have the heart to tell him.
"Tell me!" He yells in desperation. I'm still quiet.
We sit in silence, listening to the voices outside, until we're taken somewhere unknown.
I can tell it's light outside now, the blue hue of the early morning sun shines through the cracks of the truck's doors. Daryl hasn't said a word to me. He hasn't even moved an inch. My heart truly aches for him, and I try to not let it get to me.
"We're here," I hear a voice say. "Come on. Let's get these two to a cell."
We're forced to walk through the winding halls of some sort of weird compound. It looks bleaker and greyer compared to Alexandria. I'm studying the outlying buildings and walkways for future reference.
We're taken to another small building just off of the large factory. Then we're put in separate rooms. I hear the lock click as I sit in the dark.
"What have I done to myself?" I ask. My mind is blank. There is no answer. "Maybe this is an interesting way to commit suicide."
I wasn't sure how long I'd been in this dark room before someone opened the door. It was a man, half of his face burned, no doubt done by Negan, and he looks angry at me. He's so ugly, I think. His presence is suffocating, too, like his boss'.
"Now, now," the man says in a baby voice, obviously being condescending towards me. My mind went into overdrive in anticipation of his actions. I remain where I am on the floor, in the corner, and stare blankly at the monster in the doorway. "Come here. I'm not going to hurt you like I did the other one."
He's giving me an in. For whatever reason. The other one? He's talking about Daryl. My heart gets that sour aching feeling again. It takes everything in me to swallow the lump in my throat and stand.
I stare at him blankly. He's so weak looking, I think. He's angry on the inside. Depressed. He's wrong.
My arms slightly sway at my side. All of my nerve endings, all of my senses, and my instincts are ready for whatever he's bringing.
"Come on," he says sweetly.
Carefully, slowly, I walk towards him. He holds the door open for me, letting me stand in the hallway.
"Alright," he says. "Come on."
I follow him down the barren halls towards what looks like a bedroom. I can see Negan sitting inside with his legs crossed, hand in a pyramid shape in front of him, like he's thinking. He catches my eyes and flashes a grin at me. His demeanor changes completely.
"Dwight! Sniper Girl!" He greets. The tall, lanky boss acts like he's excited to see me. However I know it's just his way of getting things. I should be worried if he's acting nice. "Let me look at you," he says, approaching me, getting into my personal space. "You know what? I think you'd look really nice if you took a shower. What do you think Dwight?"
Dwight is silent. He's looking me up and down. I'm all fire and lightning. "Yeah, but, does she want a shower?"
Negan's eyes widen. "You're right. I didn't think about what Sniper Girl wants. I apologize, Sniper Girl. Do you want to take a shower and clean all that shit off of you?" I'm silent. He's still dangerously close to me.
It happens in an instant. A hidden knife is in my hand, to Negan's throat. Although I'm five-foot-ten, Negan bends down slightly to accommodate the sharp knife at his throat. Dwight jumps back, and pulls his handgun out, points it at my head. It feels like minutes before anyone speaks. The heaviness in the room is palpable. I could feel the weight of their emotions suffocating my own lungs. I know what I'm doing, but will it get me killed?
"That's twice I've had the chance to kill you," I whisper into his ear. I'm sure he can feel my hot breath on his rough cheek, gently feel my lips on his earlobe. "You should be more careful."
I release him and the knife in one motion. Negan is unreadable. I'm not sure if he's mad or impressed. Probably both. His ego, I'm sure, has taken a bruise or two.
"Who THE FUCK are you?" Negan asks. His tone tells me he's genuinely curious, but he's also furious.
Dwight puts the gun to my head, I let him, he's too easy of a target. I won't embarrass him in front of his boss. Again. "Let's just kill her. She's too much trouble."
Negan furrows his brows. "NO."
Dwight looks confused, and turns away from me. Another opening, I think, but keep myself in check.
"What?" The scarred-man questions. Before he can register what's happening, Negan shoves his second-in-command into a bookcase. The impact causes the thing to fall over, books, knick-knacks flying in every direction, clattering on the floor in a mess.
"This is your fault," Negan scolds. His words cut through the heaviness of the room. Negan's mad, I can tell, but he's not letting all of it go. He's controlling his emotions, albeit, not very well. "Sniper Girl has nothing to do with THIS. Who the fuck patted her down? And how the fuck did she come out of the goddamn woods last night like some shitty ghost out of a bad movie? No, Dwight, she's not the trouble."
Negan grabs two handfuls of Dwight's shirt, throwing him once more, into the nearby table.
Dwight has resignation of his face. He's seen this before. It's not my fault he fucked up.
"You're the one giving me trouble," he accuses. Dwight only stares at him. "That's why I did that to your face. Now get the fuck out of my goddamn sight."
He begins to leave, but he pauses to stare me down. I can't stop myself. My hand goes up to my throat, giving him the recognizable motion of a knife going across his throat. I bite my bottom lip as I do so, sucking in air, and exhaling as I finish.
Dwight looks away.
"Go, Dwight. I'll handle Sniper Girl."
He leaves.
"Shut the door," Negan orders lowly. His attention turns to me as soon as the door shuts. "Take off your jacket."
I do as he says, watching him the entire time I'm doing so, and hand out the cargo jacket for him. He takes it, his touch very light, and he searches through it. "Hidden pockets," he mutters, and laughs lowly. "Oh, what is this?" He rummages through It some more. "Oxycodone?"
Yeah. I went through so much to steal those, and now this guy's gonna take them from me. I would be lying to myself if I didn't express some sort of anger. He can do anything to me, but my drugs, that's different. Although, I should have thought of that before I went in here and put on a display.
Negan seems to have caught me thinking.
"Hey, I have an idea." He says loudly. His voice scares me, and I shake slightly at the sudden intrusion of my thoughts. "I'll keep them for you. Say, when Dwight thinks you're ready to get out of that cell, I'll give them back to you."
Anger wells up in me. I ball my hands into fists at my side. "What about when you decide I'm ready?"
Negan smirks. "Oh, you don't want to stay in that cell? What? Was that little show you put on supposed to prove me otherwise?" He laughs at me.
"And, Dwight, he's gonna keep me in there forever. I'll go soft."
Negan sits down on the bed, sighing heavily, my jacket still in his hand. "Well, Sniper Girl, you're right, you know that?"
"I know," I reason, facing towards him.
"You don't know shit," he informs me very quickly. "Now, I'll think about it, but that's all I can tell you."
I cross my arms over my chest in defiance. Being at the mercy of Dwight rubbed me the wrong way.
"You'll need me. Your soldiers are pussies."
Negan cocks his head to the side, looks deep in my eyes. "You have beautiful eyes, you know that? They're like rhinestones."
"T-thank you.." I say, in utter shock. He stands, closing the gap between us, and pushes my hair away from my face. I'm too unsure to say anything. He's not really doing anything besides running his hands through my greasy hair.
"What.." I begin, "What are you doing?"
Negan smiles at me. That cheesy, fake smile he does when he has something good to say.
"I'm just playing with ya," he laughs, before going towards the door, and opening it. "Get Sniper Girl back to her cage," he orders a passing soldier.
The guard grabs me by the arm, practically dragging me out of the room. I look at Negan, his eyes boring into me, and I want to say something however I can't think of anything that will change what's happening.
He said he'd think about it. That's all I'll get out of him for now.
"I'll miss ya," he says as I pass.
I want to ask him if he's being sincere.
RIP
I want to make the next chapters pretty disturbing and dark. Just a warning before I
jump into it. I've been listening to a lot of Sidewalks and Skeletons lately.