Chapter 11

I walked to the gate with difficulty, my heart racing so fast I thought it would burst out of my chest. I was trying to steady my breathing, trying to form a plan in my head, but I couldn't concentrate. I was petrified. I scanned outside the fence looking for Daryl, but was unable to find him among the walkers. Several large trucks blocked the road leading away from the compound, making a wide barricaded area between the fence and freedom.

One thing didn't make sense, though. All the walkers were either chained up or staked to the ground. Granted, some of them were crowded together which would make it very difficult to pass through, but not impossible. If they had placed him in a crowd of them he was already gone and there would be no point to this. There had to be something else. It didn't make any sense. It would be too easy to go around smashing chained up walkers' heads, injured ankle or not.

A Savior appeared in front of me and opened the gate. The hiss and growls of the walkers rang through the cold, night air as they heard the clatter of the metal scrapping against the pavement. My bare feet were numb and my knees weak; my right ankle bound and sore. I didn't know how I was going to get through this.

"Alright!" Negan yelled behind me jovially. I leaped with a start and inhaled a sharp breath. "Let the game begin!"

I heard cheers from the Saviors behind me and I clamped my sore jaw shut, my hands tight fists at my sides. I was afraid to move, but knew I had to. I took a small step forward.

"Any day now, cupcake!" I heard Simon's voice call out behind me followed by much whistling and hollers.

I withstood the impulse to turn around and throw my middle finger up in the air, but instead walked outside the fence. I heard the gate clamor shut behind me, and I twisted around to see Negan strut up to the gate, his typical easy smile making up his face. He took Lucille from his shoulder and tapped her against the fence.

"I wouldn't stand there too long if I were you."

From behind me, I heard the quick beeping of a horn. I turned to see the back end of a box truck parked a few hundred feet directly across from the gate. I flicked a searching look at Negan over my shoulder and he returned my perplexed look with a wide, sarcastic smile. It was then I heard a scraping from the truck and I knew from the sound that the back was being opened. I looked ahead of me just in time to see a Savior scramble back to the front of the truck and a horde of walkers tumbling out from the trailer. I twirled back around to look at Negan and felt terror seize my throat. He gave me a single wave and backed slowly away.

Frantic, I looked around for a weapon; anything that I could use to defend myself. I spotted a twisted, thick rod of metal, the end jagged and sharp. It looked like it had been part of a stop sign post once. I scrambled over to it and snatched it up just as a walker made a grab for me. I spun around and drove the metal deep into its head and tore it out with a wet, sucking noise. I greeted three more the same way.

Find Daryl. Find the key! I reminded myself.

I started off farther away from the gate. My head was dizzy with the effort to breathe, keep focus on the walkers, and find Daryl and the key at the same time. Yells from the Saviors rang out every now and then, many of them throwing taunts or giving me bad advice. I wished they would yell louder and longer to distract the walkers more, but unfortunately they knew better.

I took down two more walkers, their rotting corpses stinking and gory as I caved their soft heads in. I was beginning to become despondent. I couldn't find him and there was no guarantee that a walker or two hadn't found him already. I rushed around as fast as my swollen ankle would allow, my hair flying around my head and blinding me.

And then I saw him, huddled in a far back corner slightly shielded by tin barrels and wooden pallets. I struck down a walker as I rushed over to him, throwing myself down at his side. He lay slumped over on the ground, his eyes closed. He was unconscious.

"Daryl!" I whispered ardently, shaking him as hard as I could. He didn't stir. I looked behind me to see if any free walkers loomed nearby. There were a few shuffling ostensibly forward, but they were far enough away for the moment.

"Daryl, wake up!" I smacked his face, but nothing. I tried to sit him up and I heard the clank of chains that Negan had mentioned. I looked behind him to see his hands complicatedly bound and locked to a poll. The key! I cursed myself. I had nearly forgotten about it in my frenzied desire to find and get Daryl out of here.

A snarl from behind interrupted me and I spun around just in time to bury the metal piece I had deep into a walker's skull. It fell down, the metal still stuck in its head. I turned back to Daryl and quickly moved the barrels and pallets around to protect him, hoping none of them would sniff him out. I hurried back to the fallen walker as I saw the rest of them pushing their way over to me. I put my bad foot on its ripe chest, pain shooting form my ankle and up my calf, and ripped the metal out.

"Over here!" I screamed at them, waving my arms in the air. "I'm over here, you assholes!"

The walkers' demonic gazes followed me as I led them away from Daryl. I skipped backwards as gracefully as I could, keeping an eye in front and behind me as I went while also scanning for the damnable key.

Where could the fucker have hidden it? I thought, giving Negan a quick glance. He was still in the same spot, his arms were casually folded and he donned a large, blissful grin. I grimaced and centralized my focus back to the current matter at hand.

Negan definitely didn't make it easy for me to find the key, that much was a given, and frankly, I was one-hundred percent sure he wanted me to find Daryl first and the key probably not at all. It would be much more fun for him to watch the walkers tear us apart as I fought to get Daryl and myself free.

I looked at all the remaining walkers. None of them sported a key around their neck or wrists. It was possible that he could've placed the key in their clothes, but I didn't think he'd worry himself with that. If anything, it could be hiding in plain sight. I scoured the ground, hobbling around for anything that shimmered or looked remotely like a key. I got excited a couple of times, thinking I had found it, but it turned out to be nothing.

"Dammit!" I screamed in frustration, throwing the golden piece of plastic I had found under a crate in the air. I started to stand up, looking in Daryl's direction to make sure he was still covered by my makeshift barricade when I heard a walker growl close behind me.

I briskly spun around, a sharp pain searing through my broken ribs, and shoved the metal rod up into its throat. Decayed blood poured out of it in a cold, sticky river, but it continued to snap and grab at me regardless. I pushed myself up to my feet as I heard more walkers advance to the front and the back of me.

"Ugh!" I started to panic as they closed me in on all sides; there were about fifteen of them. I looked around, my hair whipping in the air, but I found no outlet. You can get through this! I yelled in my head.

With a scream of determination, I shoved the walker still pierced by the metal rod in my hands backward. I ran with it in front of me and it stumbled back into two more walkers, hitting a tall wooden pole that had a thick steel wire sticking out of it. It penetrated all three of them, making a kabob of the living dead.

I took a step back and spun around, the metal in my hand carving the air and ultimately another walker's head, its soft shell of a skull caving in with ease. It fell to the ground in a heap as the other walkers got closer to me. I needed to find a way away from them and the pole seemed like my best bet. I looked back to it, scanning my eyes up its length to see if it was possible to climb. That's when I saw it, the twinkle of the metal high above the ground. The key was hooked on a rung, maybe two and half stories up.

I lunged toward the pole, stabbing the metal rod into the head of the impaled walker that had almost gotten me before. He had nearly made it off the wire, too. I yanked the rod out of his forehead and rounded the pole, grabbing onto the thin, steel rungs that were placed on either side of it. A chained up walker nearby grabbed at me as I started up and my pants slipped down to my knees.

Sharp whistles pierced the air as I ripped them back up from its grip. I kicked its face and the decaying skin sloughed off in a thin sheet to brandish a bloody, snapping skeleton. I turned back to the pole, my stomach heaving, and slowly started climbing up with sweaty, slick hands. It was nerve-racking being so high up with a grip that I could barely keep and my hurt foot hardly able to hold my weight. I wasn't stable at all.

The wind began to pick up the higher I went, blowing and ripping at me as if it was in on the torture. I screamed when a big gusto blew into me causing my bandaged foot to slip. My hair blew into my face obscuring my view and I hung onto the pole for dear life; the rod was making it extremely difficult to hold on as well, but I was too afraid to give it up. I kicked at the air as I tried to find purchase again, my shaking hands gripping the rods so tightly that I'd be surprised if I didn't leave dents in them. As the wind died down, I regained my balance and gathered the courage to start back up, moving a little bit faster now that I nearly fallen and eaten asphalt.

Finally, I was close enough to reach the key. It was dangling from a silver chain, glinting and swaying in the night air. I unhooked it and placed it around my neck, securing it under my shirt with a fleeting feeling of relief. Now all I had left to do was to make it safely back down and get to Daryl. I drifted my gaze over to where he was and saw that he was still barricaded, no walkers near him. Instead, they were all under me, clawing at the base of the pole, hungry and eager.

The Saviors were cheering, starting to get a bit louder now that I was surrounded and vulnerable. How was I going to get past all of them? There were at least ten of them now, and only a few were snarling at the fence, reaching in vain for the Saviors on the other side. It wasn't exactly a lot, but plenty enough to take me down once I reached the bottom, and I was steadily losing strength, having expended the small amount I had already. I gripped the rungs tightly and squeezed my eyes shut. Do NOT pass out!

"Okay," I breathed, "there's a way out of this. Just think about it."

I could go down the pole a little ways and toss the only weapon I had and make a ruckus, but then I would be left defenseless, and it was no guarantee that the walkers would even follow when they had fresh meat dangling in front of them. I could jump, but that was just stupid. I'd only hurt myself further, maybe break a bone or two, and then I'd really be screwed.

"It's now or never, pumpkin pie!" Negan's singsong voice cut through my inner debate. "Piss or get off the pot!"

"Fucking hell," I whispered to myself and gritted my teeth. I climbed down the pole a few ways, getting closer to the freaks below. I could see them teeming with excitement to get to me. With no hope left, I tossed the metal rod. It landed with a loud bluster, sending a small wall of stacked barrels toppling over. The walkers turned their heads, intrigued. Yes!

As most tottered off to the source of the noise, I climbed down the pole as quietly and quickly as I could, pushing past a few walkers that had stayed and bounding off toward Daryl as soon as my feet touched the ground. The unfazed walkers snarled after me as I skipped-ran, my ankle aching more than ever, but I pressed on determined and trying my damnedest not to yell out at the pain that radiated through me.

When I reached Daryl, I shoved the crates and barrels aside, pushing him over and slipping the key from around my neck. My hands were shaking so badly that it was a major effort to slip it into the lock, disengage it and untangle Daryl's hands from the cold, heavy coil, but I got him free. I glanced behind me to notice the walkers bustling their way toward us.

"Daryl!" I screamed at his face and smacked him again. He grunted, but barely moved, not even opening his eyes.

"Oh, fuck!" I glanced behind me again. They were getting closer.

I grabbed Daryl, pulling on his arms to sit him up. I turned around and put my back to his chest, throwing his arms around my neck as his head lolled on my shoulder. Pain bit into my ankle as I pushed myself up and it felt like thousands of white hot needles were being shoved into my chest, my ribs straining hard under Daryl's weight. I had almost made it to my feet when my legs gave out from under me. I slammed back down to the ground on my hands and knees, grunting in pain with Daryl still on my back. I looked up to see a walker no more than a few paces in front of me, its hands reaching out and its black tongue writhing back and forth, ready for a taste.

As I was about to push Drayl off and cover him with my body, a loud bang rang out and the walker's head exploded in front of me. It fell down, hitting my side and slumping on the ground next to me. I looked up to see Negan with a smoking rifle at his shoulder. He gave me a wink and yelled, "Better hurry up! This gun only had one round!"

Baring my teeth at him, I pushed up again, bracing myself against the cold asphalt as I stabilized Daryl's weight on top of me. I yelled out as I stood up to my feet and huffed out strained breaths in both amazement and agony; I was up. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, steering us away from the advancing walkers and to the opening gate. Despite carrying weight that was almost two times my own, and using an injured foot nonetheless, I was able to move quickly; or at least a bit quicker than the walkers who were swiping out greedy hands behind Daryl and me. I considered that a major fucking win.

I struggled toward the open gate, dodging chained up walkers here and there, and as we got closer to safety a staked walker reached out a rotting hand to grab a handful of Daryl's sweater, nearly pulling him off of me. I tightened the hold I had on his arms and twisted him out of its deathly grasp, stumbling to the side a few steps and nearly toppling over. I caught my balance and picked up the pace, huffing out strained breaths as my stomach heaved and ached; my flesh began prickling up my spine at the thought of one of them getting a hold of us again. The Saviors were going completely berserk now, screaming and shoving their fists in the air; they were having the time of their damn lives while I fought for Daryl's and my own. I took a few more determined steps; the walkers hissing and gnashing their teeth not far behind. I passed through the gate, limping Daryl's heavy body a few steps further before falling to the ground. I heard the gate close behind me and the walkers hitting it forcefully. Their snarls almost sounded disappointed.

Daryl lay on his back beside me, still unconscious. I was on my hands and knees, panting uncontrollably and trying not to pass out myself. I was completely drained.

"Holy hell," Negan shouted out, his face looked genuinely pleased and surprised, "bend me over and call me Mary because I think I just witnessed a miracle here, boys! And her fucked up five shades darker, too!"

He started clapping his hands and the others followed suit, "Damn, Dwight! You better watch your balls, I might make Everly my new second-hand man."

Dwight smirked and shrugged, crossing his arms.

"Sweetheart," Negan strutted up to bend down in front of me, "how the fuck do you walk straight with those giant set of nads dangling between your legs? That shit was badass!"

I couldn't believe my ears. Negan was actually complimenting me and it sounded like he meant it. I laughed out before I realized what I was doing. The absurd reality of all that had happened to me the past month and a half, plus the fear of what could possibly happen next, suddenly becoming hilarious. I laughed until I struggled to draw in air, my sides pinching in pain from the constriction. Finally spent, I lay down on my back next to Daryl and let out a long sigh, enjoying the brief moment of relief that flowed through me

"Goddamn," Negan grinned, Lucille dangling like an anvil over my head, "You're fucking losing it. I gotta be honest, I wasn't gonna let those undead dumbfucks kill you, it was all a scare tactic, but holy Christ on toast, I did not expect you to make it out of there the way you did."

He twirled Lucille up onto his shoulder and held out his right hand, a gloved offering of reprieve. I hesitated to take it. He was the enemy and taking his hand would be my white flag of surrender. I wasn't quite ready for that yet. I ignored him and sat up on my own with pain acting as an unhelpful hand.

"Dwight, why don't you escort Everly here to the showers, no points needed. I'd say she's earned it. Plus, she's got zombie juice caked on her from head to toe and it's fucking gross," he said as he kept his piercing, brown eyes on me.

"Luck you. Let's get going," Dwight said, waving me up.

"What about Daryl?" I dared to ask. He was still out cold, but relatively unharmed; or not harmed anymore than he was before.

"Don't worry about him. He'll be locked up safe and tight in his cage, all peachy keen. I'll even play him a good night song if that makes you feel any better," Negan responded.

I pushed myself up carefully, my legs and ankle delicately sore and rubbery. There wasn't anything else I could do. I hobbled over to Dwight and specifically ignored Negan as I limped past him. Most of the Saviors were still praising me with whistles and hurrahs, some shouting out thinly veiled insults disguised as compliments. I ignored them, too.

"Oh, you're freezing me in place over here with that cold-shoulder, darlin'," he called out to my retreating back, laughter in his voice. "I'll come by in five to see how things are mopping up in there!"

"Get bent," I mumbled under my breath.

Hi, guys. I've learned about some possible confusion (and maybe expectations) regarding the direction of my story. I just wanted to clarify that I began this story with the idea of exploring the psychological turmoil a person would go through in the hands of a sociopathic narcissist, their subsequent character development, and what they would do to survive. More specifically, how an original character would react and survive in the hands of Negan. I labeled this story as having a genre of horror and suspense, and I was sure not to cross my OC with Negan's or Daryl's name in the description (ex: [Negan/OC], [Daryl/OC]) because I wasn't even sure what direction I wanted to take in regards to that. I like the macabre and shocking aspects of stories/characters as well as delving into the psychology of their events/actions. I'm not big on writing romance, but I do try to fit it in when I can; I just don't want it to be my main focus.

Thus far, you guys are not supposed to like Negan in this story. He is the bad guy in the purest form of the word. That isn't to say that he is not a beloved character to me. He's actually my favorite! That's why I wrote this story in the first place. But Negan is also a sociopathic badass and that's what I'm trying to convey here. I will give him tender moments, funny moments, and moments where you think there might be something more to him other than his colloquialisms and violence, but come on... This guy pulverized two amazing characters of the series. He is not a good person and he is not someone I would want to be near (or in love with; although JDM makes it soooo hard to not want to be! ;D). He is an abuser and a murderer, plain and simple. His wives, at least the ones we've been introduced to, do not like him. They are purely with him for the luxuries he can provide, out of fear of him, or as an exchange for their or someone else's life. That isn't love, it's survival, and he manipulates the shit out of them to get what he wants (and it's a bit rapey, I hate to say). I'm sorry if anyone expected there to be anything mutually romantic between Negan and OC, but to me that is highly unrealistic (at least if I'm sticking to the original character of Negan). Something will develop between them, but it is going to be a slow build up and I'm being cryptic so as not to ruin anything.

So, I hope this provides some clarity in what I have planned here and what I'm working towards, and with that, I hope you will still enjoy my story. If not, that is perfectly fine and I understand. You don't owe me loyalty, and to each their own, as is the saying. Also, I hope you don't feel as if I'm patronizing you guys. I know you're all smart and you're good readers, but I just wanted this to be out in the open in case something was lost on you (which with some readers there was).

P.S. I don't want any of you to feel that I'm putting down other writers or readers who enjoy a love story with Negan. I've read quite a few stories on here that involve Negan having a soft, romantic side and I've enjoyed them. I don't know, maybe if people are interested enough I might write a love story with him, but there are already so many out there and that's just not what this story is about. I hope that makes sense and that I haven't offended anyone. It certainly wasn't my intent.