Chapter 57

"I can't do this. I can't do this."

I walked back and forth in short strides, turning back again when I could go no farther to pace the opposite way. I was sick with distress, doubtful of what I should do. Stay here and suffer? Or leave with the chance of getting caught and suffer a worse fate than before? Either way, I would hurt the man I loved, but what was worth more? I felt half-witted; like I couldn't make a simple decision when in all reality, it just wasn't that simple. I had gone over the pros and cons in my head multiple times, telling myself we'd planned this from the get-go, but I might as well put a white feather in my hair and change my middle name to chicken shit.

I screamed out in frustration, running clawing fingers through my hair. I checked the clock for the thousandth time and panic hit me. I had less than twenty minutes to be down in the garage or they might leave without me. But if I didn't show up, Daryl would probably try to find me and that would be bad; he could be spotted and then his chance of getting out would fall out of his reach, too. But what was I doing? I might be stealing that opportunity from him already. Would he really leave here without me? The answer was no. He promised me he would never leave me again, and while we'd been ripped apart, he wouldn't defect if I wasn't by his side.

I ran to my door on tiptoes, listening for any sounds or footfalls outside of it. I'd been a nervous wreck since Negan left my room, and in my mind, I saw the walls beginning to crack; like he'd come barreling down the halls at any moment and they'd fall away to leave me exposed, and he would know. Know that I was leaving.

I was leaving.

I flew to the bathroom, tearing off the t-shirt I had on and kicking off my shorts. I ripped open the cabinet drawers and took out the clothes I'd hidden in there, quickly changing into attire better suited for what I was about to do. As I was finishing, the hair tie I had set out earlier caught my eye, and I quickly combed my hair before braiding it down my back. I secured the tip and pulled a black beanie over my head, feeling about as ready as I was going to be. I still wasn't sure about what to do, but I was not going to let anyone hurt me. And no matter what I did, I wouldn't be the cause of anyone else's pain either.

"I'm not going to be the one that hurts. Not anymore."

With a final look in the mirror, I strode to the door as quietly as I could and listened again. Not a sound passed by and courage was a rapidly swelling tide that crashed into me, so I turned the knob, sweat slickening my hands, and took a deep breath before peeking outside. I looked down both ways, noting a lack of distant noise. That meant no one was nearby nor were they approaching. I took that as a good sign and slipped out into the hall, slowly closing the door behind me.

I needed to make it down to the ground floor without being noticed. That may be a bit difficult, but not impossible. I knew Saviors patrolled all levels of the Sanctuary, but considering how big this place was, it wouldn't be hard to sneak past them. Caution would be my confidant and I held it close by my side as I glided through Negan's private corridor and to the stairwell.

So far, so good, I told myself as I tentatively breezed down the stairs, stopping to peer around each corner and listen before moving forward.

I was beginning to feel like Lady Luck was a distant, arbitrary friend that only visited at the most desperate and rarest of times. Our first attempt of escape had not gotten this far, but here I was, nearly there. A few more steps and galloping heartbeats and I'd be free… And the closer I got to tasting freedom, the more cocksure I became that I - we - were getting out of here. But Negan's disappointed face loomed at the shadowy edge my conviction. I knew he was hidden there, ready to pounce and snatch away that light, but only if he was close enough to catch it, and I'd be damned if I was going to allow him to get within arms reach.

At the bottom of the stairwell, I paused behind the door and listened. I heard voices, distant ones, and I took a moment to judge how far away they were and if they were moving. The conversation grew closer and I backed away from the door toward the alcove under the stairs. When the voices stopped outside of the door, I ducked into the shadows and crouched, holding my breath.

"Did he say why we needed to gear up or no?"

The stairwell door opened and two bodies entered, their deep voices reverberating against the concrete structure. I keep my eyes on the edge of the steps, watching and waiting for snarling faces to appear with reaching claws to snake out and grab me, but they didn't.

"Shit if I know. I ain't even sure we're going anywhere. Bill just said to pack up and meet at twenty-three hundred hours."

"Fuck," the first voice sighed in annoyance. "I don't want to spend another night cleaning up some other asshole's mess."

I heard their footsteps thundering up the stairs I hid under, vibrating above me.

"Central outpost did black out. Could be we're goin' there to investigate," the second voice reasoned.

"In the middle of the night? Isn't that shit supposed to already be taken care of?"

"I don't know, man. I'm just throwin' out possibilities."

Their echoing voices dwindled and disappeared. I took a few additional minutes to muster up the previous boldness and assurance I had been feeling, but it was hard to take hold of; like my fingertips barely brushed the surface and I couldn't quite curl a grip around it. Something didn't seem right, but I ignored the pang in my gut and crept out from under the stairs.

You better have my damn back, Lady Luck. Don't leave me on my ass now.

I peeked up, looking for any signs of movement above me, but saw none. Moving to the door, I observed the outside noises once more, and when I determined the coast to be clear, I moved out and swiftly down the hallway to the rendezvous point Sherry had instructed me to go to. I walked determinedly, trying not to break out into a run. I kept throwing nervous glances over my shoulder, a sense of foreboding slowly creeping up my spine, but saw I was alone each time.

The emptiness of the corridors was beginning to feel strange. I thought I would have more trouble than this circumnavigating the factory, but it had been nearly effortless. It wasn't exactly late, but it was possible many Sanctuary workers were in bed or finding solace in some other format; maybe at the hideaway. I hoped that to be true. The more people who were distracted and out of our way, the better, because that meant we'd have a cleaner getaway.

I was nearly there, glancing past the corner with heedful care when I spotted a burly, blond man I'd seen with Daryl before. His friendly face smiled as he spotted me and he gave a small wave to show he'd been waiting for my arrival. I smiled back, relieved to have finally made it and started around the corner when Negan strutted into view at the other end.

"Sir!"

The blond man greeted Negan as he dropped to one knee, startled, and I whipped back, slamming myself against the corner wall out of sight. My heart was hammering under my sternum, ready to explode from fright. I wasn't sure if Negan had spotted me, but I had noticed his eyes were downcast before I'd shifted backward. Mine were frantically searching for a spot to hide as I slid down the corridor, my back still pressed against the wall. Most of the rooms on the ground level were utility closets, where supplies were kept or employed in some other way and many of them stayed locked. This length of hallway wasn't exactly short either.

Run! My mind screamed, but I couldn't. If I did that, I would be entirely too obvious. Sound carried easily through these bare walls as was evident by the rhythmic thud of Negan's rubber-soled boots that drew closer by the second. Time was up, and I started grabbing handles, cursing each one that held against my grip. But it was too late. Negan was going to turn down my hall and then it would be all over.

Unless…

Hastily, I threw my hood up, covering my head and pulling my beanie down lower. I faced away from Negan's direction and prayed he wouldn't pay me, some random in the hallway, any mind. The clothes I wore were inconspicuous enough that I might be able to pull off kneeling and avoid showing my face, but if he talked to me, I was caught. I just needed to stay calm, collected, and act like I belonged.

As I heard Negan enter the corridor at my back, I dropped to one knee and pushed my head so far down that my chin met my chest. I noticed my long swinging braid in front of me and I grabbed it in alarm, quickly tucking it under my hoody. Negan's boots began to slow as he drew nearer and I held down the bile that threatened to rise in my throat.

He saw. He fucking saw!

I swallowed hard and focused on breathing quietly, trying to stop myself from shaking. It felt like his eyes were burning lasers on my back and I wanted to look up, to check if he was focused on me or if it was my imagination. When his boots slowed to a creep by my side, I knew I was done for, and closed my eyes in forfeit. This was where I would be groveling, begging for my life and promising him anything if he allowed me to keep it; allow Daryl to keep his.

But a young, female voice prevented me from the pleasure.

"Negan! I've been looking for you!"

My eyes shot up, no longer able to stay trained on the spotted floor under me. Rachel came down the hall, a bounce in her step as she glanced at me with a sly wink.

"Rachel, I've got shit to take care of." Negan sighed as she stopped in front of him. "We can talk later."

From my peripherals, I saw her hand shoot out to grab Negan's and I wondered if he had been about to reach for me.

"I know, but I just thought you could use some company. I was playing foosball with Laura and Theo, but it's been boring not having you there as my partner," Rachel practically whined and I resisted the urge to gag with disgust.

"Some other fuckin' time," Negan said, and I saw brief movement out of the corner of my eye before he said her name sternly.

"What?" I could hear the feigned innocence in her voice.

"Let…go."

Rachel sighed and I saw her feet shuffle backward. "Fine, but next time, I get a real conversation and a game of foosball with you."

"When I feel like playing fucking games, Rachel, I'll find you," Negan grumbled, and he thumped my upper arm with Lucille. "As you were."

He didn't say another word as he stomped past me, not throwing a parting glance over his shoulder. When he disappeared at the end of the hall, a giant breath rushed out of me and I sat back on my feet, placing my hands over my face and waiting for the tingle from Lucille to ebb away.

"Boy, that was close. Hubby don't know you're out of your cage?"

Rachel's voice interrupted my moment of relief, and I looked up at her through my fingers. What was she doing over here? I stood up, using the wall as an aide, and looked her over. She seemed in one piece, and if her Cheshire grin was any indication, she was feeling good, too.

"Sneaking out, are ya?"

"Shh!" I hushed her and scourged the hall where Negan had left. "Stop talking so damn loudly. And I'm not sneaking out… What are you doing over here anyway?"

"Looking for Negan." Rachel cast me a derisive look. "You were here for our entire conversation."

"Okay, it just seemed like perfect timing. Excuse me." I crossed my arms, but I didn't know what else to say. Rachel had already called me out and I wasn't sure how to redirect her. What if she ran after Negan to tell him?

"What are you doing over here?" She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Nothing. Just out for a walk."

Rachel nodded and pointed at my abdomen. "Sure. Is that why you're dressed like that?"

"I'm not supposed to be wandering around, okay?" That was the half-truth. I truly wasn't, but I didn't need to affirm Rachel's suspicion. "Negan would've been pissed if he knew it were me kneeling here… Thanks for distracting him."

"No problem," she smiled with a shrug and we stared in a moment of awkward silence. Well, awkward on my part because Rachel always seemed as cool as a cucumber, and I envied her for that. "Well, I'll let you get back to your walk then."

She started off, but I said her name before I could stop myself.

"Would you…want to walk with me?"

What the fuck are you doing? My inner-self screamed, but looking at Rachel now, it took me back to when I had first seen her, scared and shivering on the forest floor. She had been so different, seemed so real, in those terrifying moments that I knew the Rachel I had gotten to know since then wasn't her true self. She presented a façade; a splintered shield in which she protected herself from the outside world and all the harm it wanted to cause her. She reflected what she saw, mimicking those around her just like a child would do, and she was. She was a scared child. And while Rachel wasn't exactly my best friend in the world, I felt like I owed her more than what she'd been given in this second chance at life.

She looked confused as her guard promptly dropped along with her crossed arms, her brows creasing.

"Walk with you? Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"It's just a walk," I offered, hoping she understood the double meaning. I wasn't going to flat out tell her that I was leaving, but she seemed to already catch onto that. Maybe this offer to bring her along would keep her quiet, or at least show her I cared.

"I'm good," she said, that same mocking barricade rising back up around her.

I nodded, turning away, but my name from her mouth prompted me to stop and glance at her over my shoulder.

"Now we're even," she told me seriously, her face straight, and I knew what she meant. I had help save her and she helped save me. She'd paid me back in full.

"Stay safe, Rachel," I whispered and walked down the hall before I could be spotted again.

Alan and I paused near the garage entrance, waiting for all the men to load up. He had briefed me on what had transpired earlier with Negan and how he'd assigned four additional men, his men, to join us on our deceptive journey. That meant he definitely knew we were up to something, he just didn't know exactly what.

"God, I wish I could see that bastard's face we he realizes he's nostrils deep in shit creek," Alan remarked as he watched his comrades start to enter their vehicles. He peered down at me. "As soon as I see Negan's men get into their trucks, you'll walk out with me with your head down. They're parked on the opposite side of our second truck, so they shouldn't see you, but move quickly anyway. You never know."

"Right," I agreed and held myself back from bouncing on my feet. I was ready to go. "Daryl will be in our truck?"

"Of course." He gave me a playful wink and I smiled as pure, genuine happiness filled me. It was intense after feeling nothing but sorrow these past weeks, and I couldn't stop myself anymore. I was bouncing on my feet.

"Now?" I asked impatiently.

Alan held up a finger, his eyes watching everybody's movement closely. After a few dragging minutes, he finally nodded and said, "Now."

He stepped forward quickly with me close at his heels, keeping my head down but up enough to know where I was going. As we came to our truck, I nearly broke away from his side to run up to it, but I kept my impulses in check and allowed him to open the door for me. Before I could fully register Daryl's face in front of me, he had me off of my feet and in his lap, crushing his mouth on mine.

"Uuuuh, you guys?" Alan intoned politely behind us. "I need to get into the truck, too."

A chorus of snorted laughter filled the cabin and Daryl broke away from me temporarily to scoot against the left passenger door before we were back at it.

"Y'all better not start fucking in here," someone from the front warned.

I parted from Daryl with a giggle which left him disappointed. He tried to capture my lips with his once more, but I leaned back and cupped his face, giving him a small smile.

"We'll have enough time for that later," I whispered, but pecked him again anyway. "I missed you so much."

"You have no damn idea how much I missed you," he whispered back, nuzzling his face on my own.

"Buckle up, lovebirds. We're rolling out," Dwight said from the front passenger seat. "Everly, stay low until we're past the gates."

"Seriously, if you guys start steaming up the windows, I will slam on these breaks and send your asses through the windshield."

"Shawn's only kidding, Everly," Alan patted my shoulder as I buckled myself in. "He's been bitter ever since Sarah told his ass 'see ya'."

"Man, fuck that ho," Shawn said as he turned over the ignition. "Bitch was crazy anyway."

"Sarah? Cute, perverted, blonde-haired Sarah?" I asked.

Shawn regarded me through the review mirror. "You know her?"

"She's my friend," I said with a chastising grin. "So be careful about what you say about her."

"Oh, oops. My bad," Shawn apologized.

Dwight looked between us with a sarcastic grin on his face. "Just drive the truck, genius, before we get caught. Everly, zip it and keep your head down."

"Yes, sir," I rolled my eyes. I looked over to catch Daryl watching me, and I bit my lip with a blush. He grabbed my hand in response, squeezing my fingers between his.

"Smile like that at me again and we'll be flyin' through that damn windshield," he whispered in my ear and I shivered, feeling a tight heat spread in my belly.

I wanted so badly to rip off my seatbelt and straddle his lap, but my carnal urges would have to wait until later - much, much later – and I groaned inwardly, squeezing his hand back. Our heated gazed simmered as we came up to the gates, and I put my head down, keeping my face under the darkness of my hood. Thankfully, the guards on watch opened the gate without much of an exchange and we were rumbling forward again. As soon as we were past, I sat up and looked back; fully expecting sirens to sound off and giant spotlights to follow us down the road, but there was nothing. I started to laugh.

"We actually made it out," I remarked breathlessly and beamed at Daryl.

"Yeah, but we're not out of the woods yet," Dwight piped up. "Let's hope Negan doesn't notice you're missing until we're long gone."

"But we still got those fucks at the end of the line to worry about," Shawn reminded us.

"What's the plan on that, D?" Alan asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"Just keep driving for now. Let's get as far away as possible before we make a move."

"What about them keepin' tabs?" Daryl spoke up, and he rubbed his thumb on the back of my hand. "Do ya think they'll be radioin' in to Negan?"

Dwight turned to us, his expression clearly telling us he was already worried about that. "It's likely, but I don't think Negan is that paranoid. As long as we don't raise suspicion, then they'll have no reason to contact him."

"What happens when they notice the random chick who happens to be his wife tagging along with us?" Shawn threw out, but that had been a tremulous red flag waving in everyone's face from the start.

"I say we go ten miles down and pull over. Tell 'em something's wrong with the truck. When they get out, we'll ambush them." Alan observed everyone's reaction to his idea.

"I don't know. Might not play out like we hope," Shawn countered.

"What other option is there?" I asked.

"We do what I told Negan we were gonna do." Dwight stared out of the windshield, watching the headlights illuminate the passing road before us. "Go back to central outpost."

"But what about the Kingdom? Somerset?" Alan asked

"And what about them?" Shawn inclined his head toward Daryl and me.

Dwight thought a moment and silence sat heavily between all of us. I was starting to become nervous again. The chance of Negan catching wind of our escape before we'd barely made it out had my stomach doing barrel rolls.

"Fuck, okay," Dwight finally spoke, massaging his forehead. "We continue like we're going to central, but stop near where the tail end of the horde should be. It'll be dangerous, but if we make enough noise, they'll be a good distraction. And like Alan said we'll attack while they're unaware…"

"Like cowards," Shawn scoffed and shook his head.

"If we blow this and they radio Negan, we'll be fucked," Dwight reasoned, his tone beginning to harden. He placed his full attention on me. "Everly, you have to stay in the truck the entire time. Do not get out for any reason. If one of them comes up, look away and ignore them."

I didn't like the idea of having to wait while everyone else risked their necks for me, but it might be the best idea. I glanced at Daryl for reassurance and his fingers tightened around mine. I nodded my head with an okay.

"We'll have to backtrack, so everyone move swiftly when it's time and don't hesitate. Remember," Dwight matched each pair of eyes with a pointed look, "they're the enemy, too."

"Just doesn't feel right," Shawn mumbled, but we all heard him.

I understood what he meant. It was a weak move to strike a man when he wasn't looking - especially when it came to taking away their life. Every person in this world deserved a fighting chance no matter how demented or cruel they were. We all lived in a special corner of hell; more now than ever. It was just that some had lived there longer; their souls ripped apart and crudely sewn back together if at all. It had left them as monsters: hateful, shameless, forsaken… But they were still human, and while their humanity may be buried too deep to recover, that didn't mean ours were lost. I still had mine.

"Maybe we can abandon them," I suggested and the four men listened. "Get them out of their truck, and while they aren't looking, one of us will take it. It's not exactly murder, and by the time they even step foot near the Sanctuary, we'll have already struck… We can even leave them a bag of food to assuage any guilt."

Dwight snorted. "Were you a saint in a past life? Who gives a shit if they have food or not. We're starting a war, not dropping Fido off at the farm."

No one responded. The empty air was an implicit note of our opinion on Dwight's point of view. No one argued that he was wrong. We just didn't agree. He turned defensively, glaring at each of us in turn.

"You guys can't be fucking serious," he exclaimed. "There are so many things wrong with that idea that I don't even know where to start!"

"I know it isn't air-tight, but at least we won't be cold-blooded murders," I responded.

"You won't be anything because you'll be in the fucking truck!" Dwight threw up his hands.

"I'd be an accomplice! That's no different!"

Dwight scoffed disbelievingly. "Don't act all innocent. You've been a killer since people started eating each other. Think about all of the events that led you to where your pretty little ass is sitting right now."

"Hey!" Daryl snapped. "We've all done what we had to. That don't make her no more a killer than a survivor."

"What's the fucking difference?" Dwight yelled, but shook his head, sighing. "Listen, I'm not trying to argue. I know you're searching for an altruistic solution, Everly, but we'll be leaving open too many loose ends if we keep them alive, and don't tell me that if the roles were reversed, they would give a damn about our lives…"

"That's not the point," I disagreed.

"It is," Dwight asserted, but his eyes softened. "I'm sorry, but we have to be smart… We have to survive and if we let them live, we won't."

A quick rebuttal was lost on me, so I accepted his words reluctantly and frowned. We were starting a war, yes, but I was hoping the casualties would be minimal, and I certainly didn't want to be the start of them. It seemed I had no choice.

"It'll be okay," Daryl whispered, and I relished his warmth as he put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him. I rested my head against his chest.

"As long as I'm with you," I murmured as his heart beat under my ear in time with the thought of Lucille shining sharp and russet, splattering me with his blood.

Edited by Nightperidot.

Ugh... Sorry I'm late. I had a bit of writer's block, and I'm still not 100% on this chapter, but whatevs. THEY MADE IT OUT! Did you expect it to go that smoothly or nah? How far do you think they'll get? All the way or far enough to feel like they made it?

In regards to last chapter, I didn't mean to write the Negan and Sherry scene as if he was beating the shit out of her. I was going for kink but it ended up more domestic violence-y, if that makes any sense...? I mean, her butt cheeks might be sore for the next day or two, but she's not gonna have a busted asshole or anything. And I left the belt part ambiguous on purpose to let your imaginations run wild. (I know. I'm a cuck, but this isn't a Negan and Sherry story!) He could've simply dropped it on the floor, or maybe he had her spanking him with it. Ooooh, dirty! It was also a good opportunity to show just how frustrated Negan is with Everly. He wants to have the most intimate parts of her, but she's keeping that shit locked up tight. So, he let that pent up steam out in a way that would leave him satisfied long enough until he gets what he's been patiently *wink wink* waiting for...

On a scale from 1 to scorch the entire planet, how utterly pissed will Negan be when he realizes he won't be getting what he wants? :X

P.S. Thank you to my guest reviewers! Yes, Negan planned that whole going away present very well, the rascal.