Chapter 37
"Run."
I stared at Negan and his smile grew slowly as I stood there pressed against the tree, rigid and confused. I felt myself tense as I measured his demeanor, but he remained motionless; almost statuesque. I eyed the narrow path we were on, noting the trees and growing darkness that shrouded us from every direction. I didn't totally understand what he wanted me to do, and I took a step to the side, moving back onto the path where I was free from any obstructions.
Calm down, I told myself as blood accelerated through my veins. This is just a scare tactic. He won't hurt you…
"What're you waiting for, Everly?" Negan asked teasingly, unsheathing his bowie knife from his hip. The metal was a sharp reflector of the viridian that surrounded us.
"What are you playing at?" I glanced at the edged metal, and shuffled backward as I tried to place distance between him and I, but Negan matched each of my footsteps with one of his own.
"Not a damn thing," he shook his head slowly. "I just want you to show me how fast those long, pretty legs of yours can go."
Through the diminishing light, Negan's features seemed to form into something entirely unworldly, and I withered under his fervid stare. Fear had a hold of me now. I was afraid to look away, afraid to turn my back on him. I knew the second that I did I'd feel the agonizing pain of his bowie knife plunging into my back; one cut for every instance that I have defied him.
"Stop it!"
I tried to sound commanding, but my voice wavered and I swallowed down the panic.
"Don't let me catch you, Everly," Negan said softly, a malicious gleam igniting his eyes.
And I ran.
I didn't know if he lashed the knife out at me when I turned around, but in my mind I could see it barely missing the nape of my neck as it sliced at the air. My skin prickled at the vision, and I pushed my legs to the limit, terrified of what would happen if I slowed down by just a fraction. Negan was in pursuit, his booming footfalls behind me were electrifying and my lungs began to burn as they strained to draw in air.
The path was narrow and bending, and it became harder to see as I careened past full tree limbs, snagging undergrowth, and the night's shadows as it began to grow. I wasn't aware of where I was headed and I couldn't think of what to do once I reached the end of this trail - if there was one. I could hear Negan not far behind, his breathing hard and steady like the rubber treading of his boots as they hit the ground at my heels.
Don't stop running.
And I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. Adrenaline propelled me forward, and I started to feel light as the air whipped around me, fluttering my hair behind my back. I felt a sliver of hope as the trail began to widen, and I noticed the ending tree line a few hundred feet ahead. Would it make a difference if I reached it or not? Chances were Negan would pursue me as far as he could go; there were no base zones here, only horror.
The path was beginning to clear as I neared its finish. I scanned the area beyond it, trying vainly to find somewhere to go, somewhere to escape whatever sick game Negan was playing with me, but all I spotted was an open, muddy field and the obscure outlining of the same buildings I saw before in the distance to my left. There was nowhere to run.
A force hit me from behind, teetering me forward as a pair of powerful leather clad arms wrapped around my waist. I screamed and reached out as I began to fall forward, but I was twisted to the side before hitting the ground, my back landing on Negan's solid chest instead. He rolled us over once as we stopped, his body covering mine as I struggled to breathe and get out from underneath him, but he was too heavy.
I closed my eyes as I waited for the knife to plunge into the valley of my shoulder blades or the grip of Negan's callused hand as he pulled my head back to cut open my throat, but neither sensation came. The only things I felt were the vibrations from Negan's chest as he began to laugh in my ear and a sense of unease which quickly turned into humiliation.
"Get off of me!" I yelled, pushing against the ground to buck him off but he barely budged.
"No, I like you in this position," Negan breathed against the side of my face and I threw back an elbow, hitting his shoulder. He grabbed both of my arms and pinned them to the ground, letting out an airy laugh. "Easy now, darlin'. We can wrestle if you want, but I'd prefer it if you had no fucking clothes on when we did."
"Fuck you!" I spat.
"Right now?" Negan asked sarcastically.
He peered around the field, and I felt the pressure from his body subside as he lifted himself off of me. I took in a deep breath of the cool air, trying to push myself up as well, but he still held down my wrists.
"Was that it?" I snapped. "That was my punishment? You threaten me with a knife like a fucking psycho so you could chase me down like the animal you are?"
Negan's grip tightened on my wrists as he yanked me up and pushed me onto my back. He kept his position over me, my arms immobilized against the ground and him straddling my hips.
"Damn," he remarked, his smiling eyes dancing over me. "And here I thought that I could scare some fucking obedience into you. What the hell am I going to do? Do I need to drag your ass back to your unrequited love to shock some sense into you?"
I lowered my burning gaze then and concentrated on how many teeth Negan's jacket zipper had. I had tried very hard not to think about Daryl too much on this trip. I was using the time outside of the Sanctuary as an excuse to forget what happened, but it didn't stop the nagging thoughts from crashing my mind every uninterrupted second like an unwanted guest.
"No," I muttered, finally subdued. I didn't want to see Daryl for the time being despite how much it pained me to admit that. I cared too deeply for him and because of that I felt sick every time I thought about him, but I definitely didn't want him punished because of me either. When we reunited, I wanted it to be on good, forgiving terms.
"Well, what's it going to take, my dear? Should I try for some unconventional tactics?" Negan spoke deeply and lowered himself onto me.
"No," I stated firmly, meeting his gaze again which was not far from my own.
"I can make you forget about him, you know," Negan whispered as he eyed my lips.
"I don't need you for anything."
"Are you sure about that?" He asked smoothly.
"Yes," I answered simply, but I couldn't disregard the comforting feel of his weight on me or how soothed I felt when I breathed in his scent. I turned my head to the side so he couldn't see the heat spread in my cheeks.
Stop it, stop it, stop it, I chanted in my head and closed my eyes. He had just chased me through the woods under the pretense that he would use a knife on me if I couldn't run fast enough. How could I feel any sort of positive emotion toward this man? I wanted to think about Daryl, to feel like I used to when his face entered my mind, but all I had left of him now was heartache, and tears stung my eyes.
I heard Negan sigh as he got up and he pulled me up after with a tug on my wrists. I stumbled to my feet as I blinked away the wetness in my eyes and he let me go. I couldn't look him in the face as I stood awkwardly in front of him. I was too embarrassed, and frankly, ashamed.
"To answer your first question, no, that wasn't it," Negan said, bumping my shoulder with his fingertips. He pointed to the muddy field behind me. "When I said 'run' I was referring to this, but the look you gave me right after I said it had wicked ass thoughts flooding my mind. I couldn't help pulling out that knife and scaring you."
"You're fucking insane," I accused.
"Only for you," he smiled joyfully and bopped my nose with his index finger. He shrugged. "Sure, it was pretty fucked up of me, but you damn well deserved it. I either roll with the punches or I lay them out hard, and sweetie, I just laid you fucking hard."
I wanted to smack him, but I curled my twitching fingers into fists instead. What he spoke was the unfortunate truth. My legs were like rubber, and while he had broken the fall when he tackled me, I had a suspicion I'd feel the impact more than he would in the morning; more so after my jerky rollercoaster of a ride to this place.
"If you'd allow it, I'd like to get some rest," I mumbled, wanting a bed, or anything that could pass for one, badly.
"Not so fast," Negan smirked. "You haven't received your punishment to its fullest fucked-over extent. You're not done runnin'."
"What?" I raised my eyebrows. This was surely a joke, but he nodded his head.
"You're gonna run for me until your fucking legs give out." A sweet smile curved Negan's lips. "Now trudge your little ass out there and get to runnin'."
I scoffed. "In the pitch fucking dark?"
Negan let out a chuckle and scanned the twilit sky. "It's either now or at the butt crack of dawn when you're really getting pounded by the effects of all your exertions from today."
I sighed angrily, crossing my arms and flexing my sore feet. "Well, can I have a pair of shoes at least?"
I looked down at the socks I wore, not really able to see them well, but wanting to check them nonetheless. I could feel an intense ache starting to curl its way through my arches and into my toes, and I wondered if they were bloody; if I had run them as raw as they felt.
I searched Negan for an answer, but he stood staring at me with an easy smile and his head cocked to the side, brows dipped in curious amusement. His silence was enough of a reply.
"You could at least hold my hair back while you screw me over," I uttered faintly with an eye roll and began to make my way out to the damp field. I gasped in pain as I felt a sharp impact on my bottom and I wheeled around to face Negan, appalled.
"Sorry. Sometimes my fucking spirit fingers surprise the shit out of me. I got so excited at how well just you minded me that it was a knee-jerk reaction. Or ass-slapping reaction, however you'd like to word it. Think of it as encouragement," he leered mischievously with a wink and wiggled the fingers of his offending hand. He leaned down closely to me. "And if you can't control your filthy fucking mouth when you're speaking to me, I'll do much worse than that. Don't tempt me, Everly. The way you've got me going, I won't hold back for too much longer."
I rubbed the throbbing spot where Negan had hit me and tried to lose the scowl that controlled my face. I backed away from him, wanting to do the exact thing he told me not to, but I bit back the words that burned my mouth and ran.
"Thank you, everyone, for coming," Maggie spoke to her fellow Hilltop colonists from the front steps of the Barrington House. "I know this isn't the greatest of times for a meetin', but given what transpired here ealier, this may be the best moment to bring up what I believe everyone's been thinkin' and wantin'."
Maggie took a moment to take a deep breath. She scanned the crowd of those she had the pleasure of getting to know the past few months and knew this discussion would either bring her closer to them or push them away. She looked over her shoulder at Rick who gave her a reassuring nod, showing her his support. She nodded back and licked her lips.
"We can't do this anymore," Maggie stated simply and shrugged. "We can't keep goin' this way, afraid of doin' somethin' wrong or not doin' anything at all and getting punished for it anyway. It's not right, and I don't think we should continue to let it be our standard of livin'."
"What are you getting at here, Maggie?" Gregory asked.
"Well," she took a deep breath again. "Really, the reason for all of this is why my old group is here. Y'all know our story, what happened to us when we first met Negan. How I lost my husband to him..."
Maggie paused for a moment to let everyone remember their tale and rubbed her belly, an absent look coming over her face as she recalled that horrible night as well. She nodded her head as the corners of her mouth turned into a frown, but she composed herself before she could break out into tears.
"Negan is cruel…to everyone he manipulates. He is not forgivin' and he is not kind. He doesn't provide us with any sort of support other than the arrangement that we won't be attacked if we comply. But how well has he kept his word?" Maggie pointed to the spot where Harlan Carson had lain after Negan's Saviors left him bloody and beaten. "Let their actions speak for them. They don't compromise, they destroy. They rob us blind, takin' more and more from us every week…and what do we have to show for it? Fear? Anguish? Degradation? How much more do we have to endure before we've had enough?"
Gregory stared to laugh, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. He threw out his hand with an airy sigh. "And what do you propose we do, Maggie? It's not like we have spare bridges to burn. We don't have a choice in the matter."
"Well, I'm here to say that you do," Rick piped in and stepped up next to Maggie. "We've all got a choice. It's just makin' the effort to pick the right one is where it becomes hard. Now, I know you're all scared. We are, too." Rick gestured to his group behind him. "But we're tired. Tired of worryin' if the week's pick-up will be enough and then turns out it ain't. Tired of bein' beaten or threatened within an inch of our lives because we couldn't scavenge enough of what's left in these empty cities to provide for him. We're tired of bein' torn down and dehumanized because it's what gets these sick fucks off… I'm tired of seein' the people I care about die!"
Rick's voice echoed throughout the yard and he realized he'd taken a few steps down the stairs during his rant and he was clutching a bulging fist out in front of him. He took in a few breaths to calm his rattled nerves and swallowed down his emotions. He lowered his shaking hand and stood up straight. He wanted these people to be on his side, not think he was crazy.
"I'm not sure about y'all, but what I witnessed in this yard today is the dull side of Negan's blade. He is so much more and he deals out so much worse," Rick inspected the crowd and their reactions. He couldn't tell if he was getting through to them or not. "I say we take a stand, rise up, and seize back what was never his in the first place: our free will and self-reliance."
"How?" A man questioned, a look of anxious concern on his face. "What chance would we have?"
"We're working on that, but there are other communities in the loop," Rick replied, knowing it wasn't the whole truth, but he wanted them to believe they could do this. "They have weapons and numbers. If we band together, we can't take Negan down easily."
Rick was interrupted by Gregory's loud guffaws at the suggestion. "You're ludicrous! You can't seriously believe that this group, my people, would even attempt to…to…go through with this folly?"
Gregory looked around at the colony he was supposed to be in charge of; trying to find confirmation for his thoughts, but no one stepped out to agree with him. They looked at him hesitantly before looking around at each other.
"How many communities and how much weaponry?" Someone asked Rick and Maggie. The two looked to each other and released relieved breaths simultaneously. This was a good start.
"Well, with us, that'd be five," Maggie explained. "And considerin' the size of each one, we'd have at least two hundred people to fight, maybe more. And enough weapons and ammo for everyone."
The crowd started to murmur then, whispering feverishly to one another about the possibility of a life out from under Negan's crushing thumb. Rick eyed Maggie, knowing she had just fed them a lie. They couldn't be certain how many people would gather to fight nor did they know how many weapons they could get their hands on. Rick was relying on Dwight's credibility for that.
"Would it be worth it? Why risk our lives?" A woman's voice rang out.
"Our lives are at risk already, every day. What difference will it make if we add more?" Someone countered.
"That's it exactly. Why would we want to add a bigger chance of losing our lives if we can barely hold onto them now?"
"And live like slaves until those fuckers murder us and we turn into groaning dumbasses? Fuck that! I say we fight while we're still young!" A man roared. He was met with a raucous stream of masculine agreements.
"Hold on! Hold on!" Gregory yelled trying to get the crowd to quiet down and listen to him.
"I think their minds might already be made," Maggie smiled down at him and Gregory turned to her with a sharp look. He climbed the stairs at a run and began to yell for everyone's attention again.
"This cannot and will not happen!" He hollered and the bluster began to dampen. "I'm having a hard time understanding why you all would be so eager to throw everything you have away for the meager chance at winning this…," he sputtered as he searched for accurate words, "this false claim for independence that was apparently stolen from you. Nothing was taken from you. You are free, independent people!"
"Oh, come on!" Someone complained which was closely followed by a loud, "Bullshit!"
"Now, now!" Gregory commanded, irate hands pushing out at the crowd. "I am your leader and I say no! This is no way to behave, let alone have the audacity of discussing something like this!"
"Boooo!" The man who hailed for fighting moments before called out. "I say we veto Gregory and decide for ourselves!"
Another round of approval aroused the Hilltop array, and Gregory looked back and forth between them and Maggie, dumbstruck.
"You can't be serious?" He demanded, stomping up into Maggie's personal space.
"This is a democracy, Gregory. You can't decide for everyone or you'll be just like him," Maggie stared him down, and Gregory's face turned red with anger.
"You'll be sorry when you get everyone killed," he spat and stormed off into the house.
Maggie raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes. She looked to the congregation below her. "All in favor of kicking some ass raise your hand!"
And one-by-one, second-by-second, hands highlighted the air as if they were burgeoning trees. More than half of the Hilltop survivors wanted a fighting chance for their lives back. Those who opposed stood by silently, watching their dwelling counterparts vote for something dangerous. Something they didn't know the full extent of what they were getting into. One man tried to raise his hand, but a young woman kept grabbing his arms and pulling them down, admonishing him in a low, distraught voice.
"You're all very brave," Rick complimented them. He felt elated inside, but he kept his emotions in check. "We'll have some hard times ahead of us, I won't lie to you. This won't be easy… But we are going to fight…and we sure as hell are going to win."
"Hell, yeah!" A man yelled and then they all started to cheer.
"Hell, yeah! Pump those sexy ass legs," Negan yelled. Watching Everly as she struggled to keep running almost reminded him of his glory coaching days, and he liked the nostalgic feeling that enveloped him, throwing out encouraging comments laced with barely hidden suggestions. He knew it angered her and that's why he did it; it gave him a thrill.
He took a swig of beer and went to stand by Simon, Theodore, and Laura. They had been somewhat of a welcome wagon with sandwiches, drinks, and flashlights as the night got later. And while this time was meant to be a punishment for Everly, Negan couldn't help but admire her with the glare of his flashlight as she ran.
Her jeans were tight and muddy, and the shirt she wore was damp with sweat which clung to her body, accentuating her feminine features. Negan enjoyed the satisfaction that course through him; particularly to one special part of him.
"Goddamn," he remarked, looking at Simon beside him and matching grins broke across their faces.
"How long has she been running?" Laura asked through a bite of her dinner.
"Not long enough," Negan let out a contended sigh, and took another swig.
"I'm waiting for her to face plant," Theodore chimed in, and Laura elbowed his side lightheartedly.
"Everly's sort of cool chick," Laura looked past Theodore to Negan and Simon. "If you're into the goody two-shoes type. Like a tough cheerleader or a hard-bitten Stepford wife."
Theodore let out a snort and rolled his eyes, "What the fuck does that even mean?"
"It means she's cute as a doll with her soft voice and dainty hands, but I bet she could knock your ass out," Laura quipped at him.
"Wow, Laura. You don't always say dumb things, but when you do, they're truly the cream of the fucking crop," Theodore remarked and Laura punched on the shoulder. "Ow!"
"Play nice, children," Simon admonished, but continued to smile. Then he had a brilliant idea. "Hey, Laura, if you're so certain of Everly's fighting abilities, why don't you go out there and…give it a go yourself? You're a pretty strong gal."
"Don't even bother, Simon," Laura downed the rest of her beer and walked over to him. She shined the flash light under their faces and stood close to him. Simon stopped chewing his sandwich as she flicked one of the buttons on his shirt. "I know exactly where your mind is at, and there's no way I'm mud wrestling any chick who won't fuck me after. Too much skin-on-skin contact with no pay off. Not. Fucking. Worth it."
"Oh, man," Simon whined, roving his eyes between her and the two men beside him. Laura smiled and walked back to the hotel, taking long, purposeful strides. "She wants to fuck me."
"You want her to want to fuck you," Negan told him as he raised the beer bottle to his lips.
"I want to watch her roll around in the fucking mud with another woman and then fuck the both of them," Simon corrected. He shined his flashlight on Everly as she started to slow down. "Keep it movin' or I'll come out there and get ya!"
She glanced over at them, her red face wet and exhausted, but she began to move faster.
"Fuck," Simon cursed, and Negan laughed.
"Eh, I've had bitches like her before," Theodore commented, swirling the beverage in his hand. "She's a dime a dozen, or used to be, anyway. Most the time when I'd get a girl like her to fuck me, they'd lay there like a starfish; arms and legs out with a dull look in their eyes."
"Damn, Theodore, that's some sick shit. I didn't know roofies were part of your repertoire," Simon snickered.
"I didn't need to drug anyone's drinks, Simon," Theodore rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "They were begging for me."
"Yeah, I'm sure," Negan replied sarcastically. "I bet you were just drowning in pussy at your all boys prep school when you weren't tongue punching some dude's asshole."
"I mean it," Theodore insisted, humiliated. "I bet she's boring lay. You'll see if you ever manage to fuck her."
"Is that a fucking challenge, kid?" Negan asked, giving Theodore his full attention.
"Uh, oh, no, sir," Theodore stammered.
Negan squared his shoulders and shined his light in Theodore's face. "You might've lost your virginity two days before the fucking world ended, but no woman just lies there like a goddamned beach whale when they're properly fucked. I know how to please a woman. That's apparently something you never learned all those years you spent bent over your daddy's desk."
Theodore blinked at Negan, a confused but terrified look on his face.
"He's implying that your dad was a pedophile," Simon clarified.
"I understood," Theodore closed his eyes and nodded.
"Oh, damn. Did I take that too fucking far? Bring up any repressed memories or…?" Negan asked with fake sympathy.
"No, sir. I'm sorry for suggesting-" Theodore's words were cut short by Negan's thick fingers curling around his throat.
"Next time, save yourself the trouble of having to apologize and keep your fuckwitted comments to yourself or I'll rip your tongue out and shove it up your ass."
"Y-yes," Theodore coughed, "si-sir."
Negan let him go and Theodore stumbled back a few steps, massaging his neck. He didn't say another word as he turned around and left the field.
"Night, night," Simon called to Theodore's hastily retreating back.
Negan shined his light on Everly in the field again. She was barely trudging along, her legs limp and blending in with the muck. He whistled and she looked at him, a white hand shielding her eyes from the light.
"While it tickles my balls blue to watch you run all night, I need beauty rest too. Being this good-looking doesn't come easy," he called to her.
She placed her hands on her knees, bending over to catch her breath before gradually dragging her weary feet over to them. She was breathing hard and her face was flushed, her hair sticking to her forehead and neck.
"Jesus, you're a fucking mess," Negan remarked as he looked her over. He turned to Simon. "What do you think? Should we let her get cleaned up or make her sleep out here?"
Simon shrugged. "We could hose her down. We still got one of those?"
"She'll at least need to strip down before I can allow her inside," Negan replied with a sly grin while Everly glared at him.
"She doesn't seem too thrilled with these ideas," Simon whispered dramatically.
"I'm sure we can find something we'll all enjoy," Negan answered and motioned for her to follow them up to the hotel. "Let's go see what our options are."
"I hope it involves bubbles," Simon crossed his fingers and shined his light in Everly's face. She smacked his hand away.
She wanted to say she'd rather sleep in the mud, but the prospect of Negan going along with that idea was too high. She'd deal with their brainless teasing. Hell, she might even surprise them and herself by doing exactly as they'd want; she was on the verge on not giving a shit anymore.
"Maybe Laura and Lydia will help you clean up," Negan spoke over his shoulder and he gave Simon a conspiring look. "We'll try not to be voyeurs."
"Speak for yourself," Simon said and started to jog up to the hotel excitedly. They could hear him shout in the distance. "Laura! I need Laura!"
Negan laughed and put an arm around Everly's shoulders as he steered her after Simon. "Buck up, kid. You know we're fucking with ya."
"Right," she replied, but she was never really sure.
"I wanted to say that I'm proud of you," he said, carefully keeping the beam of light ahead of them.
"For what?" Everly asked, perplexed.
"For proving me right," Negan said and squeezed her shoulder. "You're tough as fucking nails, and I'll admit that it gave me a raging hard-on watching you run for me. That was hot as fucking hell. And when you rescued that little shit earlier? Whew! I'm glad you're on my side."
"Your side?" She scoffed. "What makes you think that?"
"Because if it ever came to it, you would save me, too," he muttered in her ear, and she felt the skin prickle where his breath hit her. And her eyes grew wide as she had a moment of panic. His reason made her question herself, and she couldn't figure out the answer anymore. Was she still his prisoner? Or was she truly his Savior now?
Edited by lolsskicker.
I'm not sure how much I like this chapter, but it hit a few essential points. Let me know if it's as lousy as I think it is or if it's at least a 5/10. *Prepares self for brutally honest reviews*
Thank you to all my reviewers and readers. You're all beautiful, I tell ya!