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Chapter 4: Sweep And Weep 'Em In Row

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Hands glide over rough skin as Negan glared a hole into a particular spot where the cracks intersected. Like crossroads. Warm crystalline sluiced down the grooves of his face, dripping from his chin as he straightened. Having returned from the food court, his feet had carried him here, surrounded by chalk white walls after peeling away his jacket and tossing it over the couch. The coolness of the air enveloped his skin, tickling the surface as it followed.

He was already feeling the effects of a day that dragged. It was the goddamn morning and already temptation burned to curl his fingers around the nearest bottle. He took a moment to reminisce about the days where he drank until his tongue loosened in slurs and eyes blazed, red rimmed and unfocused as he collapsed in roguish fits of laughter.

Negan's brow tightened as he allowed it to probe into fonder memories. Of that house.

That urban grey exterior, various shrubs he couldn't remember the names of he sowed and spread parallel to the concrete path, a modest front of predominantly grass and a garage where he spent the generous hours swaying prospective customers on what he had to offer. Inside, at the end of the hall tucked away, a cosy living space conjoined the dining room, scattered walnut fitments that always appeared more lavish than they were, hung paintings that he had no contribution to, a fireplace that cast the room in glow. The sound of a door creaking ajar, followed by gentle footsteps halting in the doorframe. Raven hair that grazed pearly skin. After all this time, her face was still as vivid as ever. When she flourished. When she still had colour. His stomach sank and he swallowed thickly, abandoning that downward spiral. Withholding the slightest but persistent tug at the corners of his lips, Negan dipped his head while stiff arms braced the sink.

He knew jaundiced eyes watched him. He noticed the shift. A silent tempest looming over the Sanctuary and it all stemmed from that… incident. No. That massacre. They had lost more that nightfall than the first instance this place functioned the way he wanted it to, back when he utilised the role. And damn more than this place had ever lost to the dead. The Saviour lifted his head, meeting his vacant, reflected image. There were questions as to why that bullet fairing band was still amongst the living, projected onto their faces. Enforced to provide didn't satisfy some nearly enough. Initially, it almost pissed him off that he'd found a use out of them. But what deeper grave, than to make one dig themselves. Negan ensured they would pay a price and they would. Besides, one of their own currently warmed one of his cells.

Feeling stirred, Negan turned to leave but not before he dragged a hand down his ashen beard with scrutiny. In the back of his mind, he continued the debate whether to go through with the trivial task or not when a rhythm of knocks splintered the thought. Body rigid as he passed a sigh, he padded back into his quarters and swung the door open. He piqued to find Dwight on the other side, dog-tired as hell. On occasion, he still caught himself lingering on the singed, pale mesh of his skin.

"They got 'em." The tousled man supplied.

Negan twisted towards him and waited impatiently for him to continue. "And?"

"You won't like it."

He scowled, gnawing with intrigue.

"Matthew."

A drop of his shoulders and Negan breathed exasperatedly. "Shit." With that, he swiped for the discarded jacket and slipped his trusted Lucille into his palm where she belonged.

With Dwight trailing behind, the wonted hums of work hung in the air as they moved through the halls, passing in shadow between lucent streams of light. Veering outside, he approached the scene and observed Simon - a man of action as ever - hauling a scraggly looking guy by his collar through a muster of people and tossing him audaciously to the gravel in a curtain of dust. Not a moment to blink, his second in command then reared to knock the wind out of his lungs with a kick to the gut, to boot. The man grunted and spluttered, saliva streaming from the corner of his mouth as his body furled.

"Matty..." Negan tut. "Matty. Take a fucking bow. I was real hoping things would work out differently, that you and I wouldn't have to do this again. But if this doesn't clue me in a whole lot about you."

The quivering shitstain choking for air was always a person of interest, a guttural feeling and impression that stuck upon first meeting. Something unsaid about him kindled suspicion and made Negan bristle that he laid it out clear that they would keep their ears to the ground - but whether he was just plain stupid or brass-necked, nothing deterred the guy from testing boundaries.

Earthly eyes expressing his malevolence slipped down, observing his mien all the way down to the details. The way he hung his head low, the fluctuations of his chest, the shallow breathing and involuntary twitches. Beads of perspiration that caught the sun and dotted across his forehead. Even how he clawed and gathered grit between his fingers in a piss-poor attempt to anchor himself and regain a semblance of control. Weasley guys like him, Negan would admit a thousand fucking times over how he could never abstain from knocking them to the dirt.

Ignoring the Saviour's silence, he crouched down as though descending upon a kill and tapped Lucille on the ground at the man's feet. "Come on. Eyes up." Seconds ticked by, before dusty olive with small pale flecks met his hazel. He kept a hold on the man for a lengthy minute.

Satisfied, Negan peered above over Matthew's shoulder and jerked a nod. Suddenly a tattered backpack with frayed shoulder straps and sporting the colour of mould was dumped unceremoniously beside the man still keeled over, kicking up another billow of dirt.

"See that bag, Matty? Now, there's about half a day's worth there. Outta keep you upright for a while."

The guy didn't seem talkative or capable of it, but Negan knew he was hanging onto every word as he continued.

"Can't bend to rules? You got it. Then hell, here's that freedom you wanted! I'll gladly send you on your way 'cos I simply cannot think of nothing more fitting. The way you've always pissed your pants just thinking of the outside. I know. All kinds of messed up out there, ain't it? And it is waiting for you."

Like a shocked nerve, his eyes shot instantly wide and wilder. "I don't - I didn't - "

"Matty! You are about as convincing as if you were rollin' around bare assed with a lady, swearin' you didn't stump her!" The chortle came gravelly, shaking his head as Matthew hiccupped through a breath. He leaned close again. "Do one thing for me and not insult me by lying out of your ass. If you think I'm a certain kind of stupid to believe your horseshit, go on. Try it again."

He sucked in a breath, reduced to reverent silence as his gaze trailed off somewhere distant. Any thought of a response seemed to fall short. Good. Now they were being straight with each other.

"There you go." Negan rose to stand and started to circle him listlessly, a dangerous air floating in the space around them. "So… Ellis. You know that name. You know the guy. Heard how he got busted up? The kid's with him through day and night. He came damn close. Now before that I heard you were hounding the guy, laying your grimy little hands on things that didn't belong to you. Things that weren't earned by you. In fact, you weaselled out of work rounds. Otherwise jerked off in whatever corner you could under watch, or whatever you do of your own time. No, but then. Then you had to go and smack his woman around! That jacked up shit really stir your bridges down there? Jesus Christ. Whatever people have to settle out with each other is their own issue, doesn't matter to me. But all this shot to your head, huh. And if you hadn't abscond with their goods like the little rat you are, I doubt Ellis would've been out there with us at all. And things like this…"

He stopped pacing but continued to tower over the man. "You wanna know why you're still breathing? You were lucky. Laid off. As just some wryly asshole who needed to learn where he was. I get it. I was hoping to shape you up. Make you part of something bigger. But all this brand new information got me thinking. Shit if you went out of your way to make a goddamn fool out of me - "

"Negan - "

"No." It rumbled in his throat so deeply, his jaw set. "I really don't think you ought to be talking."

The man had no idea how close he came to losing a toe or two as his anger swelled. One simple swing, and he would be hobbling with the shattered little joints for as good as the time he had left alive. Negan tempered the storm and let the overactive imagination fleet to nothing.

"You breathe a word of this place? Don't think it won't travel back to me. My men are everywhere as you well know." A shadowed smile spread across his face as a thought sprouted. "Know what? Hell if I know if we'll even have that problem by then."

"Triple my work."

'Til the end. Negan almost drew back his lips.

"You hearing this?" The Saviour addressed the others without tearing eyes off him, tickling with a chuckle. "As though the sun shines out of his ass!"

Matthew's shoulders slumped just a fraction. "Just - Let me work the days all you want. Won't lift a hair on them. Won't even see them. We can be done here… Please." The stumbling hopelessness in his voice made Negan twirl Lucille unabashedly in his grip.

"Yeah. Finally, something we can meet in the middle at. You're done." His face turned sour with temperate malice. "Can you stand? Or should I ask, can you walk?"

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Good. Get out."

Burning bile lodged in his throat, Negan stepped back with a nod directed at Simon before he turned to traverse back into the building. The protests and pained grunts only travelled so far before they faded into the background, along with the screeching sounds of the gates.

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Delicate fingers curled around her form. Polished and cleaned, she sheened while balanced on his shoulder and his boots propped upon the table in a mixed exhibit of casualness and authority. In the spot he'd long ago claimed his own, Negan's attention waved through the usual faces perched in each chair accordingly. By the time the meeting of their inner circle rolled 'round, daylight that shone through the stained window panes had dimmed somewhat.

Seated on the opposing side of the table, Negan listened earnestly to the various reports of activity shared by the lieutenant's responsible for the outposts and collections. Meanwhile DJ and Gary inferred on the supplies and worker behaviours around the compound, as well as redirect routes and patrols. However, he hoped to get a line on something that weighed further on his mind. The more geographical side of agendas.

"And south of the grid?" He broached.

The atmosphere throttled silence, as some turned their heads his way. Negan could proclaim to have heard every breath, every heartbeat. And the first member to break the atmosphere was Simon.

"Way I hear, that whole hoard's creepin' too close to our boys located down there. They got trips and rigs but even with that setup it's looking like things could be shaping up to get real ugly."

Son of a bitch. With an acrid taste on the tongue, the memory resurfaced. Way back when, an outpost had spotted them and sent out a probing force. They lured numbers away and cleared them out, but at a price. He exhaled sharply through his nostrils and leaned back in his seat, staring studiously at the marks scored on the table. Brief moments where he had lost his temper. They'd lost a bunch to put a fucking dent in that herd and the area was lost to them. He knew there was still an inability to guarantee people's safety, even now with all of their firepower. But it was enough to leave him affronted.

"Had reports of numbers escalating on the highway too since the last time we tracked them. A load coming in from the west. For now they're stationary, who knows if they'll ultimately move out or not." DJ expressed soberly, averting his gaze from the rest of them as he propped against the wall.

A dull ache returned to thrum in Negan's head. "Keep on 'em. The south guys can hole up as long as they don't engage and wait them out if they cut through territory. I know they would go down swinging, but if shit goes to hell, order a pull-out and diversion. Then we'll deal with it. Things won't turn out like before."

"Sounds like we need another military group stationed out there. After recent circumstances, can't afford to be shy on that. Can't afford any blind spots. People are apprehensive. We can always send some scouters further out." Simon added.

"Actually, we might've found something." Another rumbling voice perked up, and he followed the sound back to Gary. "It's not too far out from there. We're looking several miles, tops. Did the sweep and seems abandoned. Spacious. Desolate. 'Course can't give the green just yet." He flicked his eyes towards Simon. "Yes, I know my words."

"Goddamn, riddle me with some good news." Negan praised. That's the kind of progress he preferred to hear. "Get the cars runnin' and we'll take a ride out to look at it ourselves."

On command, Gary rose from his seat and marched out of the room. For a moment, the gait of his boots was the solitary sound in the room.

Circling his attention back, Negan's stare hardened as he caught the expression on his second hand. Judging by the crease of his brow, he was perturbed. Something he was keeping to himself. "You holding out on me, Simon? You know, if you've got something to say..."

His face twitched subtly. "Well it's just that nobody else's breaching it. Should we even ask about the proceedings of our prisoner? How long we're planning on keeping them, least of all breathing? Leverage, I get it. But when you carve down to it, I'm just saying, a whole other mouth to feed. One that won't sing. If information's what you want out of her, she's not gonna give it to you. Not on her own."

Negan's dagger-like smile curved at the hilts. What the woman lacked in perspective - at least for now - she certainly made up for in spunk. With short progress, she was finding her voice here and he was coloured intrigued by what else would surface. Blade or not, there was a fierce, mysterious disposition that tickled him a lot. Besides, what their new prisoner offered was valuable insight into how their people were wired.

"They'll be in the fucking pink soon enough. We're feeding the mass right now, Simon. What's one more? The hell kinda difference does it make?"

"Look I know we all have compulsions to new, shiny things, but why not break her? Starve her out? Or… create a situation." Simon trained on his answer as he gave a lax shrug, accompanied with an impassive look on his face. "We've seen how that works. Usually gives full measure to going the way we want."

Flashing whites, he scoffed incredulously. "Did you even get a look at her? That chick ain't breaking when shitstorms rain down. And call me a fucking weatherman, that'll come sooner than she thinks. No. This ain't about breaking in your boots. Lemme pitch it to ya. Dealing with people like that, wearing them down, you make 'em comfortable. Make them real comfortable. Give them a little somethin' that reminds them of home."

There was a pause as his fingers drummed loudly on the wooden surface. "Not sure I see the approach."

"Well. You don't wrap your head around people to understand, do you?" A pointed glance shot the man's way. "What have I drilled into all of you? People are a valuable resource. Every living bastard holds their own capabilities and we're looking at a free welcome basket here! And shit, I think women bring everything all together. More than pricks like you and me." He disparaged as Simon narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "If there were just guys like us, we'd be mauling at each other's throats. Hungry dogs ain't loyal. We both know that. And if I wasn't already betting, I'd wager that our amiable prisoner's an important part of it all back at Alexandria. They probably think they can keep us out, but I always find a way in. Same goes for this."

"Alright. And what if that doesn't play?" Simon nodded while asking in return.

"What makes you think it won't?"

"In my experience, give someone an inch, they'll take a mile. I don't think they're taking their situation very seriously. And if they become a problem, unresolved - "

He already had an inkling of what the man was fixing to do. He tightened his grip on Lucille. A slip like before would not go unpunished. Uncorrected. Pensive, Negan took his boots off the table and slowly leaned in.

"Let's find out. We'll all be on speaking terms with them soon enough. 'Course open eyes and ears will be everywhere." Negan's cold regard drifted over to Laura who straightened up, imperturbable in her seat. "We made an introduction, but I think it's time these pricks learn who we are. Now, I believe you owe another visit to the Colony. I need to know if it's understood how our services sustain their little farm settlement."

Simon seemed to regain vigour. "I can think of a surefire way to get their attention if not."

Negan clicked his tongue loudly. "You know, guys could learn a thing or two from you, Simon. Though I'm gonna need you to cool your jets on this. We're lookin' to make an example, a reminder of our deal. Even feasibly a little.. admonition. But folks can't provide when a load are head down incapictated."

"If that's not enough to convey the message, there's always their leader. Appears to know his way around the people or so he says. Can't recall much from that conversation except that he's a sporting man. No, wait. A team player! His words. So, back against the wall, throw some simple words and allegations, you get him to control and they'll listen. Steer them away from making any necessary allies and staying behind the fence."

"Really. You ask me, something's getting soft for our Gregory. Or should that be the other way?" He struggled to restrain the wicked amusement while craning his head. "I simply cannot get a fix on what you see in that squirrelly ol' greybeard. He's as skittish as they get, hoping to cut and run at the first sign of things breaking down. But hell I've been wrong before. You say it's an investment, no skin off my back."

"I'm seeing things. Great things. All it will take is a little convincing."

"Well. Better get on your way." From the light dismissal, Simon calmly stood and stalked towards the door before Negan piped up again. "You wish the pin dick well from me, will ya?"

"Loud and clear." Simon sniffed through a zealous reply, oblivious to the leader's watchful eye following him out of the meeting room.

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The steel framed structures were larger than he had envisioned. It sure wasn't a stronghold, but it was remote out here, miles of trees in all directions. Negan perused through the windshield. Looking down, slabs of sullied concrete covered a large area of a field, a scrapyard of abundant amounts of metals and planks piled in the corner and giant white sacks littered here and there, bulging from its contents. Outside, railroad tracks that seemed abandoned in construction ran alongside barbed wire fences, where a solid towering wall adjoined the other. A building like this still standing, there wasn't a way it went completely untouched.

Face twisting at the potential danger, Negan climbed out first. As soon as he did, a lifeless moan carried on the soughing wind. Peering past the sun blindly hitting the SUV, Negan spotted where it came from. A corpse stood sprawled and writhing in the fence. He approached carefully, the draw instinctive as he secured Lucille in his glove. The gnarled sight twisted unnaturally, a viscous mess of dark red and jutting bone tangled in wire as the sharp strands hooked deep, stretching and flaying the rancid, sallow skin. Huh. Reminded him of a lot of people who looked like that. In one swift motion Negan caved in the pasty looking face with a jab of his bat, a burst of black spraying his jacket. The body slumped and he stepped back to assess the extent of the breach, before his attention drifted to the woods beyond the fence line.

"Let's take a walk." The order came firm and direct, looking between their faces as he instructed a number to hang back in the event of rowdy company.

His group walked along the green like cornering an enemy, gradually spreading out as though fingers to a palm. Cautious, Negan tramped across the stretch of land encased by wiring and noticed how his foot sank with every step. He scuffed and dug the tip of his boot into the soil and kicked up patches. The ground felt light like a cushion. Not too dry. Not riddled with stones. Lifting his head, the buildings weren't tall enough to block out the light either.

Paving through the underbrush, he strained to hear the trickles of a stream nearby. He followed the reposeful sounds until stopping at the bank of a fork, staring into the murky waters. 'Course if they travelled further upstream, there was bound to be something cleaner.

When all too suddenly, a sharp smell hit him. A deep rooted smell.

Negan turned his head to squint as he noticed thin wisps of something drift through the aching branches. He signalled for the others to follow closely behind, raising their guns as he traipsed through the trees and blades of grass. He stalled his long strides as they happened upon a small campfire on its dying embers. Taking in the surroundings, logs had been strewn about and propped on either side and a single, curious thread laid upon the dirt and another was tied from one tree to another. The evidence that someone had been here recently squared his shoulders. He couldn't expound their numbers from the scene alone. It was possible this was one of many located camps, inducing him to send out another group of scouts on either side. He crouched lower for a closer inspection.

Bandits on the road were most probable, from experience. Peachy.

"How long ago did your guys find this place?" Negan asked as his expression benumbed.

He heard a shift of movement from behind, a light crunch of leaves. "Just last night at the break. Came straight back to you." A man returned evenly.

Well. Gauging from the smoke and charred kindling, the fire had been burning for less than that. Negan pursed his lips with a hum. Risk and reward. But what would his reward be? This place seemed stable enough, but it would be pointless if unprepared for another ambush. Perhaps a team could station out here and keep surveillance, see how long it took for whatever dwellers to show up if it was actually lived in. He suddenly rose to his feet. Just for a moment, he stood intensely aware of the silence that surrounded them. They needed to scope the inside of the buildings again. Every single fucking corner and crevice turned upside. Negan smothered what remained of the campfire but left everything else intact before he circled back without another word.

The first building a bust, footsteps on polished concrete resounded throughout the ample spaced room as the Saviour led his group inside the other. If anyone remained here, they were in for a mighty nasty awakening. Although eerily empty, the more he glanced around, the more he surmised this must have been an auto repair workshop before everything ended. He recognised the smells that lingered, though barely perceptible. His suspicions were confirmed when they turned to find a wrecked car rusting in a dimmed corner and like a switch, his mind flicked to imagine the whirrs of machinery, surging lights purring above them and fumes pervading the air. Like everywhere else, this place turned to nothing.

Some open points but with a little renovation, it was salvageable. The walls were thick and the doors thicker. Further in where vehicles used to reside was a sectioned off back room. Inside contained a couple workbenches, metal frames and shelvings blotched in rust, an empty bucket, some rags, tool boxes - although they were scrapped bare - step ladders, old posters plastered on the walls and an assortment of discarded tires. Hell, whatever they couldn't use here he was cocksure they could take back.

Curving back into the garage, a rangy redhead had the idea to check out the closet space hidden beneath the staircase. With acquired force the door cracked open, but all at once another one of the dead emerged from the black and lunged towards her!

The woman instinctively threw her hands out to push back the gnashing of teeth and struggled before shoving it back against the railing and sinking a blade through its scalp. The noises stopped and the body collapsed to the floor as she caught her breath before stomping on the head with a loud squelch. Like a rotten fruit. Regaining composure, the redhead checked herself over and looked up to catch his eye. She nodded once before he turned his attention toward the last room above them.

When they climbed the steps, Negan discovered the door was smeared in huge blackened stains. No dents. No bullet holes. And it showed restraint when he tried prising it open. A weight seemed to push back on the other side. Instinct kicked in and blood raced through his limbs as he pelted one hard kick. The door finally yielded, finding the mutilated culprit slanted upright behind it, motionless.

Without setting foot inside, the stench of iron struck like a blow to the face and unfettered light through the windows fell upon moving shadows. They huddled around a wad of meat, feasting and snarling until he announced their presence with a smack of Lucille against the doorframe. Several necks cracked up towards the man and his people, mixed fluids percolated from their unhinged jaws as soulless eyes watched. Meanwhile Negan bit his lip as they shambled towards them for something fresh, striking one and then another when they came close until silence befell and bodies crumpled at their feet. A loud whistle ripped from him.

"Man! You know, I'm learning to like it." Revelling in the buzz, he swung a bloodied Lucille over his shoulder. If he felt lucky, then those were the old residents. "Listen. I want you to keep watch on this place. See if anyone else had their own little cast about. We get anybody kicking up a stink, send 'em on my way."

He gave one last glance at the string of corpses before he headed outside towards the band of Saviours packed by their vehicles. The sky now held an ocherous glow, stretching far through the brushes of clouds and shrouding them in shadow as the sun dipped below the horizon. Squinting from the dark, Negan leaned forward to rest his front on the hood of the car. He stared back up at the buildings but his thoughts strayed elsewhere. Wild thoughts as anticipation roused in his gut.

They were headed back to Alexandria tomorrow and his guest, whether she liked it or not, had a decision to make.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I won't make this too personal but for the longest time, life stuff hit and I'd lost confidence in my writing and its direction. Which I find so frustrating because I had pages of ideas of where I wanted this story to go. So many scenes I was eager to write. But the perfectionist in me wasn't having it. But coming back and rereading comments and even seeing new ones appear got me a little choked and encouraged me to continue after so long. Every comment, every follow/favourite, every share of how much you enjoy/have enjoyed this story so far means more than I can express. Okay. Back to the story. From this one, writing Simon's character has now become one of my favourite things. And I think his interactions with Michonne are going to be gold.