The sun begins to rise over the sanctuary. It would be silent, if not for the walkers on the fence. The dead are extra vocal this morning.
An arrow shoots through the chest of a legless walker, chained to the fence. Dwight walks over, pulling it out. The left side of his face is covered in bandages, but he's in a much better state than he was a few days ago. He has clean clothes for a start, and a belly full of food. Now he was one of them, Dr. Carson had begun to treat his burns more thoroughly, and they didn't hurt as much.
He walked back to the steps, aiming his new crossbow at the dead, still trying to get used to the damn thing.
"What you doing?" Comes a voice from behind him.
He turns, as Simon walks towards him. "Little target practice," he says, showing him the crossbow.
"You came back with that right?" Simon asks.
Dwight nods, not really wanting to think about his expedition with Sherry. "Yeah, along with the bike. Primo's got that though."
"You prove yourself to Negan, and you'll get the bike back soon enough," Simon smiles.
Simon's radio begins to crackle. A voice comes through, but it's crackly and full of static. "These pieces of shit! We really need to find something better," he says to Dwight, as he unclips the radio from his belt. "This is Simon. Can you repeat that, over."
"It's Paula. There's been an attack at the outpost, over," says the voice over the radio.
Simon frowns. "An attack, what kind of attack? Over."
"Another group. They have Primo. We have two of their people, they want to make a trade. Everyone at the outpost is dead, over," she replies.
Simon freezes, not quite sure how to handle this. Then his eyes widen. "Wait, which outpost did you say? Over."
"Wayne's outpost. We're heading to the break point, over," she answers.
Simon's face turns a sickly grey. "Oh shit," he says, running back inside.
Negan snores, sleeping deeply on his sofa, a half empty bottle of whiskey, and an empty glass on the coffee table beside him. He's still fully dressed, minus his jacket, which he used as a makeshift blanket.
His bedroom doors burst open. Negan's leg twitches briefly, as he continues to snore.
"Negan," Simon says, attempting to wake him.
"The fuck?" Negan murmurs, his eyes still closed.
"Negan, wake up," Simon says, panicking, his breath heavy.
"What, what the fuck is it?" Negan frowns, his eyes only half open.
"There's been an attack!" Simon says.
Negan sits up. "An attack? What kind of attack?"
"Wayne's outpost. Another group attacked it. They have Primo. Paula has two of their people hostage, she's taking them to the safehouse," Simon pauses, his eyes gloomy. "Everyone at the outpost is dead."
"Fuck!" Negan roars, getting up from the sofa. He begins to pace his bedroom, rubbing at his temples. He stops pacing abruptly, a sickness washing over him. Negan turns to Simon. "Where's Rachel?"
Simon stares at him, clenching his jaw. He shakes his head.
"No," Negan almost whispers. "She can't...tell me she isn't," he chokes, biting back tears. "She fucking can't be!" He yells, grabbing the glass from the table, and smashing it against the wall. He turns away from Simon, wiping at the tears falling down his cheeks. He takes a deep breath. "She can't be, Simon." He begins, turning to him. "She's a fucking badass! I won't fucking have it, you hear me!"
"Yes, boss," Simon answers, unsure of what else to say.
"Good. Let's get our fucking asses over to the outpost! My baby needs me!"
The drive there is long, Negan's last words to Rachel playing over and over in his mind. Fuck! Why did i have to say that! He scolds himself. "Can you not make this thing go fucking faster!" He scowls.
Simon steps on the gas. Unlike Negan, he feels no rush to get there. He would rather prolong the inevitable.
Simon's Radio begins to crackle. "We need back up, there's been a slaughter at the safehouse. The hostages are gone, over."
Negan grabs the radio from Simon's belt. "What the fuck! What the fuck is going on out there?" he fumes over the radio.
"Everyone at the safehouse is dead, someone set fire to them, over," the voice replies.
Negan slams the radio against the dashboard, rendering it useless. "Who the fuck are these people, Simon? Who the fuck do they think they are? They're gonna regret fucking with me! That's for damn sure!" He seethes.
They pull up at the outpost. Negan jumps out of the truck before Simon switches of the engine. He goes to run straight into the building, but Simon pulls at his arm.
"We should be careful, Negan. We don't know what's in there," he warns.
"My fucking baby is in there," he frowns, pointing Lucille towards the outpost. "If any of those pricks are still in there, then un-fucking-lucky for them," he snarls.
They walk along the corridor, their footfalls echoing through the building. Simon slowly opens one of the doors, his gun ready. "Jesus!" he gasps, as he sees two of his fellow saviors.
Negan walks over to the corpse on the bed. "Those fuckers, just came in here, and fucking killed these guys in their sleep!" he spits. "Who the fuck does that? This wasn't just a random attack. It was a fucking assassination! This was planned, Simon."
"You think they've been watching us?" Simon asks.
"Yeah. But obviously they weren't watching properly, otherwise they wouldn't have fucking messed with us," he scowls.
"You think this was Hilltop?" Simon wonders.
Negan thinks for a moment. "No," he shakes his head. "Whoever did this, it wasn't them. Maybe they had a fucking hand in it though. We'll find out, don't you fucking worry about that."
They head to the top floor, Negan's heart pounding in his chest, as he sees the bullet holes in the walls.
"Maybe she got out?" Simon says, clutching at straws.
Negan turns to him. "Maybe."
They arrive at the last door, Negan turns the handle, sweat building against his temples. As he opens the door, he breathes a sigh of relief, as it appears to be empty. He walks in, turning his head to the left. His heart sinks, as he sees Rachel on the floor, the left side of her face covered in blood. "Rachel," he whimpers, making his way to her.
"Oh, Jesus," Simon gasps.
Negan kneels beside her, running his hand over her face. She's warm. His eyes widen, as he begins to check her pulse. "She's fucking breathing!" A faint smile crosses his face. He checks her over for any potential wounds, then he looks at the right side of her face. "Someone clocked her, right in the fucking temple!" He says angrily. "We need to get her back to the sanctuary, get her to Dr. Carson!" He orders. "Grab Lucille for me," he says, as he tucks his arms underneath Rachel, carrying her bridal style. "Come on, baby. Don't you dare fucking leave me."