Carol held Tara's hand tightly in her own as they bounced down the pothole-ridden road, squished together in the back seat of one of the Savior's pick up trucks. They were both blindfolded with some sort of putrid smelling rags. Carol noticed that if she looked down as far as possible, she could see out the bottom of the blindfold just a crack. She could see her own hands and one of Tara's. She could see her lap and a portion of the leg belonging to the man shoved in next to her. But most importantly she could see the sunlight shining in. When the light shifted she could tell which direction the vehicle was turning. She carefully kept track of which way they were heading. Song lyrics played on a loop in her head, over and over, to gauge the approximate amount of time they had been traveling. She was building a mental roadmap that she hoped would lead her back home once she'd gotten what she came for.

After two dozen repetitions of Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer the truck finally slowed to a stop. The driver killed the engine and then there was a lot of shuffling around before Tara and Carol were unceremoniously yanked out of the vehicle. Dwight pulled the blindfolds off both women and made a sweeping gesture with his arms. "Ladies, welcome to Salvation."

Carol craned her neck upward to get a full view of the factory that stood before them. The main structure was about four stories high with shorter segments on either side and large smoke stacks on top. A fire escape snaked up the front of the aging but sturdy building. It was protected on all sides by chain link fencing and razor wire.

"Let's move." Dwight shoved the ladies forward, leading them into the factory. They were lead through the front doors and down a series of hallways until they arrived at a closed door. Dwight paused here.

To the other men in his scouting party he said, "Hold them here. I'm going to explain this to him first." With that, Dwight opened the door and disappeared.

Carol listened hard, trying to make out the conversation that was happening on the other side of the door. Everything was too muffled. She couldn't tell what Dwight was saying or how many people were in the room. Suddenly she heard a loud, maniacal laugh followed by a man's booming voice. "That son of a bitch did what? Send them in here."

The door swung open and Dwight motioned for them to step inside. "You're up, sweetheart," he said with a menacing grin toward Carol.

Cautiously, the two women crossed the threshold and came face to face with the man known only as Negan. A hulking man with slicked back hair and a leather jacket sat before them. He did not rise to greet them. Carol's eyes immediately shot toward his feet. Leaning against his chair was a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire. It was stained with the blood of who knows how many victims; living or dead, she would never know. The sight of it turned the blood in her veins to ice. She gave a noticeable shudder. Like a shark smelling blood in the water, Negan noticed her fear immediately.

"So," Negan began. "It seems your leader likes to play by his own rules. He sent me a couple of pawns instead of accepting the generous offer I extended. Tell me, honey, how does it feel to know that he values you so little?"

Carol didn't have to try too hard to act scared and vulnerable. She had underestimated how intimidating this man would be. She stammered, "I just do as I'm told."

Negan looked her up and down and, with a tone that made Carol's skin crawl he said, "I bet you do."

In spite of her fear, Tara, who stood close by Carol's side, made a conscious effort to control the smile that wanted to escape her lips. She had never known Carol to take orders from anyone. But she stood stalk still and let Carol play her role.

Negan noticed Carol's eyes kept creeping down to take a peek at his weapon. "What are your names?"

Carol considered giving false names for just a moment and then decided against it. What harm could there be in giving her name to a man who would soon be dead? "I'm Carol and this is Tara." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Negan's lip curled up in a sneer. "Well Carol and Tara, I'd like to introduce you to Lucille." He picked up the bat and extended the tip of it toward Carol's face. She didn't back away but the smell made her want to retch. He studied Carol's face, trying to read her reaction. "The polite thing to do when you get introduced to someone is to say 'hello'"

Carol couldn't take her eyes off the bat, but she managed to squeak out a small, "Hello."

"Would you like to hold her?" There was a playfulness in Negan's eyes that caught Carol by surprise. She had imagined he would be unhappy that Rick had sent a couple of his people instead of the supplies that were requested. She had not expected him to enjoy this exchange so much.

"I don't…" Carol began, but Negan cut her off.

"Go ahead, hold her." It wasn't an offer or a request. It was an order.

He held the bat upright so that she could grab it by its handle. Reluctantly she reached out and took hold of it. As she wrapped her hands around the weapon a tremor shot through her. Negan read her reaction as pure fear. But what Carol truly felt was all the pain this man had inflicted with this hunk of wood. She felt all the authority he had claimed through violence. She felt all the lives he had ended to enhance his own. He was clearly a man of great power. Rick was also a man of great power, but his was gained through trust and respect. It was plainly evident that Negan ruled by fear. In another lifetime, respect usually outweighed fear in the end. But in this world, respect was not something so simply earned. Fear was a far more easily spent currency.

As she stood before Negan, holding what she believed to be his most precious tool, she was struck by the ease with which he had handed her such power. He had known her a total of about two minutes and he had already determined she was such an insignificant threat that he was willing to hand her the only weapon in the room. Then it occurred to her, maybe it wasn't just that he thought she wouldn't attack him. Maybe he was asserting his dominance. He wanted to show her that even though she was the only one armed, he was still the one in control here. He was showing her that he was in charge by forcing her to hold this extension of his ego, or his manhood. She suddenly felt like she might vomit. This man truly sickened her.

Negan seemed satisfied by the revulsion in her expression. He extended his hand to take the bat from Carol. He put it back in its place by his feet. "I'll tell you what. This Rick Grimes character, he's got a lot of fucking balls. I'll give him that." Negan laughed loudly. Carol wasn't sure if he was laughing at his own joke or at his assertion of dominance. "You ladies aren't really my usual type, but we'll see what we can do to make you comfortable here."

Tara took an involuntary step back. She didn't like what Negan was implying.

Negan stood and took a step toward her. "What is it, darlin'? Do I make you nervous?"

Tara knew she had vowed to let Carol do all the talking, but she couldn't control her disgust toward this man. With a snarky tone to her voice she said, "No, but you're not my usual type either."

Negan froze and for a moment Carol thought he was going to strike Tara. She weighed her options in her head. Should she let Negan hit her and continue her charade of being weak and helpless? Or should she defend her friend and comrade and try to take this man out right here and now? She was saved from having to make that decision by more uproarious laughter from Negan.

"If I didn't know better I'd say you've got a set of balls on you too. This Rick guy sure knows how to pick them. Is that why he sent you here? He wasn't your type either?"

Carol silently tried to will Tara not to respond. It didn't work. Tara replied, "You won't find a man in this world who is my type." Carol was starting to curse the decision to let her come along.

"One of those, huh?" Negan shook his head and walked toward the door. "Waste of skin if you ask me, but whatever." He opened the door and said something inaudible to Dwight who was still waiting right outside.

He turned to address the two women again. "Dwight is going to take you to your quarters. You can get yourselves cleaned up."

Carol felt a sudden urgency to move this plan along. "I don't know if Dwight explained to you why we're here. We didn't intend to stay long. Rick just wanted us to see how you operate. He wanted to know what kind of protection you were offering."

Negan squinted at her, as if he were trying to see her true motives. The gold cross hanging around her neck caught his eye. "I see you're a woman of faith." Carol's hand went to the pendant and she gave a small nod, not wanting to draw attention to her one and only weapon. "I'm going to ask you to have faith in my protection skills. Don't worry, little lady. You and your people will be taken care of." With a wicked sneer he added, "One way or the other."