The Sound and the Fury
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Walking Dead or any related title, character, plot, setting, etc. These rights are the sole property of Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore, AMC, and various publishers and distributors. I own only the original elements in this story, the writing and publishing of which earn me no money.
Chapter Six
The next morning, Collins didn't wake up until close to eleven. It was the latest she had slept since she left her Philadelphia apartment when all anyone knew were rumors of the dead walking. She spent an extra moment luxuriating in the feeling of having gotten a good night's sleep.
She had expected to be plagued by dreams of not quite leaving the Sanctuary, but if she had dreamed, she didn't remember it.
The next few hours promised to be less than pleasant, however. Collins quickly dressed in her janitorial uniform and ate half of a granola bar before going to the upper levels of the Sanctuary.
She hadn't had occasion to be there before and took a few moments to study her new surroundings with a careful eye. Though she had originally seen the promotion as an unfortunate end to scouting the Sanctuary, it suddenly occurred to Collins that she could explore an entirely new part of the building. She could look for blind spots, find out if there was a guard shift for the upper levels, and otherwise better plan her escape.
The upper levels of the Sanctuary were far removed from the lower levels. Down where the regular people worked and ate and slept, the building was showing its age. The paint was chipped and peeling, most of the metal had spots where rust was beginning to show through, and the windows were covered in such thick grime that the outside world seemed tinted a sickly gray worthy of the dead that lurked beyond the Sanctuary's walls. The air on the lower levels was stuffy and filled with the smells of people who had to choose between hygiene supplies and other necessities.
Up here, everything looked as fresh and clean as it likely had when the world had only just started to fall. This area appeared to have been the administrative section of the factory. The hall Collins stood in was lined with doors in regular intervals along one wall while the other was filled with windows of glass so clear she couldn't immediately see the panes. There were no scuff marks or broken corners up in the high points-earning sections of the Sanctuary and Collins found herself somewhere between awestruck and furious at the differences.
"Hey, you! Who are you?"
The man speaking to her was a Savior, Collins could tell from the arrogance and harshness in his voice. She didn't turn, in keeping with the life she had developed here, but he walked up and stepped around her to catch her eye.
The man repeated his question and Collins answered in sign language. His face cleared, breaking into a wide, mildly mocking smile. "Oh, you're the deaf girl! Negan said you'd be up here sometime today. Follow me."
Collins followed the Savior, unable to suppress a tired roll of her eyes as they walked. Would she forever be trailing after some Savior or another as long as she remained in the Sanctuary? This one in particular seemed to idolize Negan, if she were to judge by the black leather jacket and the boots. The Savior's jacket was made from a cheap material - certainly not real leather - and was beginning to crack where it drooped between his shoulder blades. He was far too thin for the garment, but Collins wasn't going to be the one to burst his bubble. He might even have gone so far as to wrap barbed wire around a baseball bat and then where would she be?
Soon enough, the Savior led her up a narrow staircase to an ornate door. He knocked twice, then led Collins through. She found herself in a long, hardwood-floored hallway. At the end was a kitchenette area and a wide awning to the left spoke of some kind of sitting room.
Had this been the strangest factory on Earth or had the Saviors built a house on top of the factory for their beloved leader? Questions, questions, but no one who would answer.
The last door on the right side of the hallway was closed, but the Savior knocked on that with as much confidence as he had the first door. While they stood waiting to be admitted, Collins glanced around, accidentally catching the curious stares of several women in the expansive room across the hall. It was indeed a sitting room, but all of the women lounging around in an black dresses of various styles made it appear to be a warehouse filled with department store mannequins - each dressed for a different occasion, but all on display.
"Who the fuck is it?" Negan's voice called from behind the door.
"Brandon," the Savior replied and Collins had to suppress a smirk since she wasn't supposed to have heard his answer. Brandon was not an intimidating name. But then, 'Negan' hadn't held a threatening tone until she had experienced the unstoppable force behind the name.
"Get in here," the man himself ordered.
Brandon stepped into the room, stopping just inside the door so that Collins couldn't follow. "I found that janitor lady wandering the upper levels. Do you want her in here?"
"Not in the slightest," Negan replied, voice so dry that Collins craved a glass of water. "I'd rather just sit here, covered in dust and the mountains of hair shed by my lovely wives."
Suddenly, the way into Negan's office was cleared and Collins entered the room, glancing around curiously. She hadn't given Negan's office enough thought to have formed any expectations, but she certainly wasn't prepared for the room to look so… ordinary.
Negan sat behind a large desk, writing with a cheap ballpoint pen on some notebook paper. The desk was cluttered with other mundane nonsense, such as a coffee mug filled with other pens, a solar-powered lamp, and a few picture frames. On the other side of the desk were two armchairs - mismatched, but still in fairly good shape - and there was even a real-life potted plant in the corner closest to the windows.
When Negan continued to not look at the new arrivals, Brandon cleared his throat. "Here she is, boss."
Negan's dark eyes remained fixed on the paper under his hands. "Yep."
"One deaf girl, delivered ahead of schedule. Must have been that one-day Prime shipping," Brandon rambled, somehow unaware of the temperature dropping after the first three words of speech.
At last, Negan looked up to stare pointedly at Brandon, who finally caught on. Paling abruptly, he said, "I'll just head out then, sir. I've got gate duty in a half-hour."
"No, stay," the leader of the Saviors said, his easy tone not changing the fact that it had been an order. With deliberate slowness, he plucked the small pair of glasses from his face, folded them, and placed them on the desk. "Would you care to repeat what you just said to me?" Brandon started to speak and Negan slammed his hands down on the desk. "And if you say you have gate duty, I'll throw you out of my window. You'll be on time for gate duty, then."
Brandon's breathing sped slightly. "I said that I brought you your deaf girl, then I-"
"No, no. That's enough. Did you ask the deaf girl her name?" Negan's voice was calm, even gentle, but something vicious lurked in his face.
"She can't talk…" Brandon trailed.
Negan stood and Collins almost felt bad for her young Savior escort. "Did you ask her that? Because I know for a fucking fact that she can speak when she wants. And if she didn't, I gave her a notepad and a pen so she can even communicate with dumbasses like yourself. And even if you had no such helpful hints at all, you know what else you could have called her?"
Silence fell in the room as Brandon and Collins waited for Negan to speak, but he just sat in the quiet with them. At last, he sighed, stepping around his desk. "That wasn't a rhetorical fucking question, moron."
"I- could have called her the janitor?" Brandon asked, a squeak in his voice betraying his fear as Negan crept closer.
"Now, who says you're the dumbest shit stick to ever live here, huh?" Negan congratulated, slapping Brandon's cheek in a move that forcibly reminded Collins of countless Italian gangster films. "Her name is Collins. Remember that. Dismissed."
Brandon had disappeared from the office before the final syllable of Negan's sentence fell. Negan watched him leave and closed the gaping door behind the young Savior. When he finally turned to Collins, he asked, "How much of that did you catch?"
She pinched her forefinger and thumb together, leaving only a fraction of space between them. She smiled sarcastically as she did to convey that she had understood the entire conversation.
"Fuck," he said tiredly. "I don't understand the disrespect, I really don't. You're a human being, a person. Calling you that… it's reducing you to your least important quality. There are enough people who aren't people anymore without us taking all the humanity from the living ones."
I don't care that he called me the deaf girl, Collins wrote carefully. First, it's true and second, it's my only defining trait besides my eyes.
Collins could tell when he reached the part about her eyes because he glanced up with a frown. She waited until his gaze met hers and batted her eyelashes at him. His face broke out into a wide grin and an answering expression sprouted on her face.
"Hot damn!" Negan said abruptly, shoving the notepad back into Collins's hands. "I know what we're gonna do today!"
With that, he reached for the radio clipped to the back of his belt and called for every off-duty Savior to meet in the rec room. While he did so, Collins turned to the windows. She pretended to be taking in the view - Negan could indeed see the front gates of the Sanctuary - but she was dealing with an inner sense of turmoil. Why had it bothered her to see Negan so serious and disappointed? Why had she put forth the effort to make him smile?
Gentle fingers brushed her shoulder and Collins jumped. "I'm sorry," Negan apologized, eyes still sparkling from his earlier mirth. "Follow me; there are some people who need to meet you."
He led her back through the strange apartment-like set of rooms into the living quarter hallways once more. A few twists and turns later, they were in an expansive room that seemed to have been a gymnasium at some point. Now, the Saviors used the space to house several rooms at the same time. In one area, couches sat around a large coffee table in an obviously informal setting for conversation. A different area held a long table lined with mismatched chairs in a scene reminiscent of a conference room. Yet another area held a pool table and a wall bar stocked with various types of alcohol. The final quadrant of the room held a makeshift indoor gym.
Collins bit back a groan with effort. The workers downstairs spent every waking moment working or attempting to provide for their simplest needs while the Saviors and other top point-earners had so little to do that they had created a recreation room? For all that Negan kept his people safe, Collins was continuously struck by the fact that the lives of Sanctuary residents were not the best.
The large room was packed full of Saviors. There couldn't have been many guarding the gates and walls or doing patrols if all of these people were off-duty. Collins looked around and recognized a few faces here and there, but there were too many bodies for her to see more than a few familiar Saviors.
Negan gave a piercing whistle, and it was a good thing Collins had caught his lips pursing from the corner of her eye. As it was, it took everything in her not to jump at the sound.
"Pay attention, people!" he shouted with utterly unnecessary volume. The room had gotten a great deal more quiet as Negan had stepped inside and the noise level had dropped off entirely by the time he had whistled. "We have something we need to discuss."
Negan rested on Collins's shoulder and gave a slight squeeze. She turned slightly so she could pretend to read his lips. "This here is Collins. Those of you with lower level duties may recognize her as the only janitor we have who does her damn job. Collins has generously agreed to bring her cleaning skills to the upper levels. Collins is deaf. She reads lips and does a hell of a job with it. Sometimes you'd even swear she could hear you."
Collins's heart skipped a beat, leaving her chest painfully silent for a moment before it kicked back and began pounding faster than ever. She forced a small smile at Negan's praise, but squirrelled the joke away for consideration later on. There was scarcely a joke in existence that didn't contain a hint of truth. If Negan was joking about her ability to hear, there was some part of him that knew the she wasn't telling the full truth - or at least suspected it.
"Collins doesn't need an escort to my office, she knows the way now. Don't ya, darlin'?" She nodded and he continued. "If you need her attention, you'll have to stand somewhere she can see you. If she needs to tell you something, she'll write it out on the handy-dandy notepad I gave her. If you see her writing something, you stick the fuck around and wait for her to finish that shit. Don't rush her or you won't be able to read her godawful handwriting. Any questions?"
There actually were a few, to Collins's shock. Most covered what she would and would not be responsible for cleaning around the Sanctuary's upper levels. Negan once again emphasized that she would not be cleaning bedrooms, only common areas, bathrooms, and his office. If there was a large mess and Collins needed help, someone would be sent to retrieve another janitor from the lower levels.
After all the questions had been answered, Negan dismissed the Saviors, a few of whom came up to introduce themselves to Collins. It turned out that sign language was nowhere near as rare as she had believed. Most explained that they had a relative with hearing issues and had learned it for them.
Halfway through a heartwarming conversation with a female Savior who was explaining about the hearing loss her mother had experienced late in life, Negan pulled Collins away. "Okay, okay, glad you all want to chat it up with my girl, here, but we've got places to be."
'Places' turned out to be his office once more. They had a brief conversation about Collins's upcoming promotion. After Collins had verified that she understood everything he had told her, Negan gave a decisive nod.
"Okay, now for the grand finale. Do you know anything about my wives?"
There are four of them in total. They get full access to the cafeteria and marketplace, but mostly stay up here.
"That's pretty much it," Negan agreed after reading Collins's answer. "I'm going to introduce you to them. They can be a little much at first."
That's not necessary, Collins scrawled hastily. As long as they don't try to talk to get my attention, I'll just stay out of their way.
Negan frowned at the pad. "I can't even read that shit, sweetheart. Try harder next time." He tossed the pad back to her. As Collins fumbled to catch it without wrinkling too many pages, he grinned.
"I'll assume you were just thanking me for being so damn polite! Not a problem, doll. The important thing to remember with my wives is that you work for me, not them. The apartment being cleaned is a privilege, not a right. And we won't feel much like doing favors if they start being demanding, will we?" Collins wasn't sure if he was implying that she had some choice in her job - she didn't - or if he was using the royal 'we', so she didn't respond. "Anyway, let's go set some ground rules, shall we?"
Collins obligingly followed him out to the plush living room across from his office. The room was fairly large, but not extravagant. At first, the area seemed overwhelmingly nice, but Collins soon began to pick up on the details. The coffee table seemed to have been rescued from somewhere nice, but the corners were dinged - likely from some less-than-careful Savior collecting furniture. A futon resting against one wall seemed to be in good shape, other than one leg, which had been replaced by a spindly-looking wooden attachment. Even the magazines lying around had seen better days.
However, Collins's attention was soon drawn to the four women in the room. Each one wore a black dress and she would have known who they were even without Negan's explanation. She recognized Sherry. Dwight's ex-wife was the one most people mentioned when they talked about Negan's wives. The drama of one of Negan's top lieutenants running away with his ex and Negan's current wife had caused such an uproar that it was still talked about long after Dwight's face had healed. Sherry was slender with dark hair and a stubborn chin. As always, she looked unimpressed by Negan's antics.
The other three women were unknown to her, and Negan's explanations weren't helpful. "This is Tanya, that's Amber, and the last one is Frankie. Impressive, right?"
Did he realize that Collins could not have read his lips and watched where he was pointing if she was really deaf? As a result of playing her part, Collins missed which woman was who, but she was certain she would find out.
"...and this is Collins," Negan finished.
"Another wife?" a ginger-haired woman asked, cocking a hip out as she arched an eyebrow at Negan.
"Not yet, she isn't," Negan told her with a wink at Collins. "She's the new janitor for the upper levels."
"Good, because our room is starting to get dusty," the blonde said, flipping long hair away from her pretty face.
"Now hold the hell on. I've told you before: the janitors don't clean your room. All I need is for one of you to steal someone's lipstick and blame it on Collins, then I have to beat her to death only for it to 'mysteriously' show up a few days later." Negan shook his head in disgust, resting a hand on Collins's shoulder, his fingers brushing the nape of her neck. "She's going to clean this area, my office, the kitchen, the bathroom, and my room."
"So she can clean your room, but not ours?" the final woman asked. The words were challenging, but her tone made it more of a clarification question.
"Do I look like I have time to clean my own damn room? I have an empire to run! She'll be here at least a few times a day, so be nice."
After a brief explanation of Collins's deafness and ability to read lips - why did she have to be here for this, again? - Negan glanced around at his wives. "She has her own stuff to get done, especially since she has the upper levels all to herself. Don't be distracting her with stuff you could do yourselves. Understood? Sherry? Tanya? Amber? Frankie?"
Ah, there it was. As Negan checked that his wives understood, each one responded in some way or another to their names. As it turned out, Tanya was the black-haired woman, Amber was the young blonde, and Frankie was the red-head.
One of each, Collins thought dryly to herself. Maybe that's why he did it: to keep from confusing himself about which wife was which.
A squeeze on the back of her neck brought Collins's attention back to Negan. "Come on, you're done for the day. I'll walk you out."
Obligingly, Collins followed him out, but paused to smile at the wives before she left. Sherry looked startled at the gesture, Amber ignored her entirely, Tanya smiled back, and Frankie gave a little wave. Honestly, Collins had been expecting worse. They could still prove to be the worst part of this new job, but only time would tell.
When they were back at the door leading down to the main upper levels, Negan stopped her with a light brush of his hand against her arm. "You'll start and end each shift in my office. If I'm not here for some reason, write down what time you came in and what time you left so we can keep your points accurate. When you come in the morning, I'll let you know about any special areas that need attention, but otherwise, you're free to roam. You did a great job with the lower levels, and I trust you to do the same up here."
Collins nodded, but Negan gave a fierce frown. "I got a report from Dwight this morning. You want to tell me exactly what the fuck you thought you were doing in the mechanic's shop last night?"
Just as she had the previous night, Collins mimed stretching a hair tie between her fingers, gesturing to the bottom of the braid she had secured with a tattered length of yarn.
Negan's dark eyes were filled with disappointment and the beginnings of anger. "Yeah, that's what he told me you said. That's a dumbass reason and you know it. I told you that the mechanic's shop is kept secure and that no one should be in there. You disobeyed a direct order for a glorified rubber band?"
Collins bowed her head, if only to hide the panic she wasn't sure she could keep from her eyes. A moment later, he lifted her chin himself. She shouldn't have been shocked that he wasn't done talking.
"If anyone else had done that, they would've met Lucille, or at very least, gotten the iron. Fuck knows why, but I'm gonna let this one incident slide for you." Collins signed thank you until he pulled her hand away from her mouth. "Don't fucking thank me. I'm not sure why I'm doing this, but I'm damn sure that I won't be doing it a second time. You have a lot more freedom than most Sanctuary residents, but I can't have you wandering around, especially after working hours. You feel me? I need to know that you can obey orders and not go into Savior-exclusive areas unless you're specifically told - by me - to go in for cleaning. Can you do that for me?"
Collins nodded effusively and Negan sighed. "You should be damn glad you're such a good worker. As a way to say 'Let's start on the right foot,' I got you this."
He handed her a small, plastic-wrapped package. Collins studied the package for a moment before realizing that it was an unopened set of hair ties. Judging from the market prices, she was holding 150 points worth of 'let's start over'. Collins signed a shaky 'thank you', which Negan waved away as he reached for the door.
As he pulled it open, he loomed over her and used the height difference to drop a grin in her direction. "I feel like I'm on a first date here! Should we kiss or is that moving too fast?"
She wished she could talk, so she could say something clever about her father and a shotgun, but there was no way to act it out without looking strange and the moment would be ruined by the time she wrote it all down. Instead, Collins just smiled and waved him away before she left.
Collins was halfway down the staircase to the upper levels before she thought to wonder what moment she had been worried about ruining.
Author's Note - Man, protective Negan, charming Negan, threatening Negan, all in one chapter! What other character could get away with all of that?
Thanks for reading this week's installment and I hope you enjoyed it! If you have a moment, drop me a review, PM me your thoughts, or add me to your Favorites or Alerts. All of those are like a payday to me! I'll see you next week with Chapter Seven!