Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or any of the characters. I created Crimson and plot involving her, I own nothing else.

It had been a long, uneventful day. She hadn't spotted a single dead head since yesterday. Those were rare days to have now. She continued her trek through the woods she knew so well now, her bow was slung across her back, over her backpack and quiver. The ground was soft from the rain a couple of days ago and left a musty smell in the air. The sun was near setting so it was time to find a place to bed down. There was a small cabin about a mile away, on the other side of the highway. She hated crossing the highway, it was so open, but there was nothing else close enough to get to before dark and she hated sleeping in the trees even more.

It only took a few minutes to reach the highway. She slowed her pace as she approached the break in the trees, and stopped when she heard the rumble of an idling car engine. Several car engines, and they sounded big. She shook her head at herself, big groups were never a good thing. She crouched to the ground, using a tree and its surrounding foliage to conceal herself while she listened. A group of men were talking, but she wasn't close enough to make out what they were saying. She was debating waiting them out, or back tracking to find a nice comfy looking tree to call home for the night when she heard the familiar click of a cocking gun behind her. She froze.

"Well now, what do we have here?" a male voice said. He sounded small. Maybe she could take him out and make a run for it. She slowly reached for the knife in her waistband, trying to conceal her movement.

"Nah uh, put those hands up in the air where I can see 'em or I'll hafta pull this trigger," he said.

Fuck. She slowly raised her hands to either side of her head.

"Good, now get up nice an' slow an' start walking. Don't turn 'round. Got some people who'll love ta meet ya." She steadied her breath and rose to her feet, surprising smoothly with her hands still on top of her head. Panicking would do her no good. "Go on, move it." He took a step closer to her in order to push her forward, but not close enough for her to move on him. He wasn't a complete idiot, unfortunately. Fuck. She moved her feet in the direction of the group.

She saw them all when she broke through the tree line and her feet hit the pavement. Definitely a large group, 12 of them, all men as far as she could tell. They were varied in height, but all of them were in shape, and held their weapons with ease. There was no questioning that they were soldiers. They had 3 large greyish-green military trucks, the kind typically used to move supplies so they were likely on a supply run. She'd heard those same trucks along the same highway a few times before, over the last few months. She knew there were at least a couple communities spread out over the area, this was probably a trade route. Either way, she'd have to move on, far away from here to avoid running into them again.

"Boss, lookie what I found when I was takin' a piss!" the one behind her yelled. Everyone turned to look at her, then one man stepped forward through the now quieted crowd. He was tall, probably a good foot taller than her, and well-muscled under the black leather jacket he wore. His dark hair was slicked back and his salt and pepper beard was short and well groomed. He was handsome, maybe somewhere in his late 40s, but sometimes the handsome ones were the worst. He stilled when he saw her, the baseball bat that was casually swinging in his hands stopped. When his dark brown eyes locked with hers, she felt a flutter in her stomach. He exuded power and finesse. A small, charming smile crossed his lips. And here it starts. She wished so hard that she hadn't just bathed in the creek yesterday.

"You must be the prettiest thing I've ever seen, maybe even before the fucking apocalypse," he said as he stepped towards her, his smile never faltered. Beauty was a curse in a post-apocalyptic, dead men walking world and there wasn't much she could do to hide it. She'd tried everything, covering her dark auburn hair with dirty rags or tucking it under baseball caps. She purposely wore men's clothes, as baggy as she could without them falling off her 5'3 frame, but they couldn't hide all of the outline of the dip in her waist and perfect curve of her hips that could never fit into anything smaller than a size 6, even if she were skin and bones, which she almost was now. Her almond shaped, hazel eyes caught the attention of men everywhere she went. Even in her much too thin state, her breasts barely shrank, her ass still filled the pants out nicely, and her skin held a nice glow. She'd had given anything to get that pale, sallow look to her face and skin, but no such luck.

"Hi, I'm Negan. What's your name gorgeous?" The corner of his mouth pulled his small smile into a smirk as he tilted his head and he pointed the tip of the bat at her. She saw the barbed wire that was wrapped around it. "And don't lie to me. I don't like liars."

"Crimson," she said.

"You even sound like an angel. How fucking amazing is that?" It was obviously a rhetorical question, but a few men murmured their approval until the smile left his face and he turned his head towards them and they were suddenly silent again. The smile returned when he faced her. "But come on now darling, Crimson? What kind of a name is that?"

"It's what they started calling me after it all went down and I was always covered in blood. Or maybe it was my hair." She shrugged. He grinned so wide she could see his pearly white teeth. Who even had teeth like that anymore? He was clean, all of his men were, and their clothes were in great condition. The trucks were clean, well maintained with smooth sounding engines. They definitely had a community somewhere, and with a lot more people.

"Beauty and bravery? How much luckier could I get? It's not every day I stumble on to a lovely lady like yourself." He was laying on the charm like a man used to getting his way. "Now I just need to know where the rest of your people are."

"I don't have any. Not for a while anyways. Just me." His eyes roamed over her, both appreciative and inspecting. She'd just bathed herself, but her clothes were still dirty and heavily worn, her boots almost had holes in them, and she only had enough supplies for one person.

"Really? How the fuck is a little thing like you surviving out here all on her own?"

"I'm resourceful."

"Must be. What'd you do before all hell broke loose and the dead fuckers started walking around?"

"I was a veterinarian." His eyes widened at her statement.

"You're shitting me! You think I'm some kind of idiot? There's no fucking way I believe that sweetheart. 8 fucking years of college to get that damned degree and you can't be much older than 25."

"I am 25. I graduated when I was 20 and was practicing for 2 years before the shit hit the fan."

"Beauty, brawn, brains, and a fucking doctor. I think I just won the jackpot. Why don't you hop up in my truck and I'll take you to your new home. Big, heavy walls, endless supplies, and some really great people to meet."

She'd been casually glancing around, taking in her surroundings. She even caught a glimpse of the man behind her. He was 6 or 7 inches taller than her, extremely thin with shaggy blonde hair. She could take him when the time came.

"No thank you," she answered him. His smile fell and he cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Any why the fuck not? You said you don't have anyone else. No one survives long on their own. And I have a very strict no rape policy if that's what you're worried about. Lots of ladies back home."

"I've been just fine on my own. It's been a pleasure meeting you… gentleman… but if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way." She'd barely taken half a step to leave when the automatic weapons and handguns the others had been holding by their sides raised to point directly at her.

"I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but we have some rules around here. Everyone in my territory, and this is my territory, either comes back with us and joins the rest of my Saviors, or they work for me. And working for me means I take half your shit. Weapons, food, water, clothes, everything." He took a few steps closer to her.

"Fine, take my bag and take half."

"Well doll, I just don't feel right doing that to you. You already got next to nothing, and if I take half then you're as good as dead and that would be a waste. You wouldn't make it more than a day or two without that nice bow of yours. I can't have that. So you're going to come back with us." His smile fell a little, and his voice lost its humorous tone. "Now just get in the truck." He pointed his thumb back at the lead truck.

Crimson didn't move. She waited a moment, hoping the blonde idiot behind her would do what she needed. And he did.

"Get movin'!" he said and stepped closer, putting the barrel of his hand gun against the back of her skull. That's all she needed. He didn't even have time to look surprised as she whipped around, grabbed the barrel of the gun with her right hand and ripped it out of his as she dodged behind him, wrapped her left arm around his throat and pointed the gun directly at Negan's face with her right.

"I was hoping this wouldn't escalate, but I will not be coming with you. Do not follow me, or I'll put a bullet in his gut and leave him for dead, or a snack depending on how close the dead heads are."

"This ain't a good idea doll. I'll find you. My Saviors are everywhere. I am everywhere. There's no place you can hide from me. Put that gun down right now and I'll forget this even happened."

"Sorry, Negan. That's not going to happen." She started to back up, pulling the skinny blonde with her. One man stepped forward to follow and she fired a shot that struck the pavement barely an inch from the tip of his boot. "I meant what I said, don't follow. I have no issues with taking human lives if I must, so don't make me."

Negan's eyes never left hers as she continued to back away, pulling his man with her. She expected him to be furious, but it was curiosity, with a hint of amusement that was swirling in his brown eyes. She stepped about 25 feet into the tree line, well out of sight of Negan and his men when she cracked the blonde over the back of his head and knocked him out cold. Then it was time to run, run hard, run fast, and don't stop.

Negan couldn't believe the balls that chick had. In the years since he'd established the Saviors, he'd never have someone escape from him. His men? Yes. But him? No. And that sweet little thing just managed it in a matter of minutes. He should be pissed, he wanted to be pissed, but all he could do was laugh. She was going to be a hell of a lot of fun once he caught her.

"Find her. Now," he snapped as he turned back to his men, all signs of amusement had left his face. "And if any of you fucks hurt one fucking hair on that head of hers, Lucille is going to have something to say about it. And find Dwight too."