Chapter 13
Negan woke with a jolt. He glanced over at the glowing dials on his bedside table and groaned. Three o'-fucking-clock in the morning. On the dot – again.
He laid for another minute, debating whether to get up, then that turned into a few more, waiting…waiting…waiting. The wind howled outside, and Negan thought of the patrols outside. Probably huddled in clumps, smoking cigarettes under the shelters. Exactly what Negan instructed them not to fucking do in inclement weather. He counted backwards from a hundred and made it to fifty-three or fifty- two before he lost track. Counting sheep never did the trick, but counting buxom broads sometimes did – but not tonight. When sleep failed to take him, he groaned once more and sat up.
"You know, I'm gettin' real sick of this shit," he said to Lucille, nestled into a nearby chair. "Be careful, sugar. Those barbs will tear the hell out of that upholstery."
He gave her a good hard look, but Lucille remained stoic. As stoic as a baseball bat could be, anyways. Rain slapped violently against the side of the building in sudden bursts.
He pulled on a t-shirt and swapped out his flannel bottoms for jeans. "I'm just fuckin' around – I don't give a shit about that chair. But fuck, one full night's sleep would be peachy fuckin' keen." He pulled on thick wool socks, his boots, and after a brief moment of consideration, a heavy shirt to layer under his usual leather jacket. It was goddamn freezing in Sanctuary, despite his best efforts. Concrete and metal with minimal insulation, it took the first snow of winter for Negan to realize they drastically underestimated supply usage and firewood, but luckily the woods nearby were thick, so they were good on fuel- for now.
The halls were dark and the only noise besides the storm outside was a far-away snore. Negan tried to walk quietly, but his boots refused to comply. Annoyance from sleep deprivation – that was a possible danger with Negan. If he wasn't so groggy, he'd be murderous.
On the main floor, he wandered about idly. The market was empty except for the patrols who kneeled immediately when they saw Negan, then stood shakily when he released them. Nothing good in the kitchens either – but he grabbed a handful of fresh berries from the fridge. He was the Big Boss, might as well enjoy something. He wondered about waking up one of the wives for an old game of slap-and-tickle, but none of them conjured up any amorous thoughts once he considered each one in turn. Plus, they'd be grumpy and pissed, like him, for disturbed sleep. Misery loves company, but Negan didn't really want any of their company right now.
He thought about going outside, but the sounds of the storm picked back up, and he reconsidered. Maybe the Accountant was up in the wee hours of the morning? Not exactly a barrel of laughs, but Negan didn't mind the mousy little man – but then he realized, he had no idea where the Accountant actually slept. Was it the third floor or the fourth? He could just ask someone to go get him, and they would.
"Sir?"
Negan looked over. "Hey, Limp Di- Kevin." Might as well be nice. Kevin wasn't a bad kid, just easy to make fun of, and he took it fairly in stride.
Kevin looked half-asleep, his hair matted on one side and one pajama leg was rolled up on itself. He was barefoot, and Negan half-wondered how on earth he could tolerate the freezing concrete floors. "What're you doing here in the dark?" Kevin asked.
"Roaming my kingdom. What the fuck you doing up this late?"
Kevin yawned deeply and scratched his belly. "Ah…uh…too much beer with the boys last night."
"Well go take a piss before you burst."
"Nah, it's the heartburn, sir. Kitchen lady keeps some of them antiacid thingies in her desk drawer, lets me have one when the occasion calls for it. Sir."
Negan cocked an eyebrow. "You banging the kitchen lady? A little tit for Tums?"
"Hah! Uh, no, sir. She's gotta be my mom's age. No, I like-" Kevin slammed his mouth shut and let out a nervous chuckle. He rubbed his chest and turned away. "I mean, I'd better go grab some – it's burning like hell." He turned away, belching noisily and groaning.
Negan hung around in the dark for a minute, pondering in amusement. Kevin was about to correct him- who did he like around here? He debated following after the twitchy bastard, try to wheedle details out of him. The poor kid needed tail, most likely, to steady his nerves and calm him the fuck down. Boredom and curiosity tumbled around in Negan, and he finally followed after Kevin through the long, endless hallways of Sanctuary.
Concrete and steel weren't very welcoming, nor homey. Not that Negan was trying to go for that type of thing, but maybe it wouldn't kill them to throw down some rugs here and there, get something up over the plain gray walls. Something tasteful, like boring landscape pictures or-
Negan heard a noise down one of the hallways, away from where Kevin had gone. Or maybe it was Kevin, did he take a wrong turn? He turned and melted his back against the wall. He held his breath and listened, letting the sound carry while he hid next to the hallway entrance. It was quiet shuffling of sorts, but quiet on purpose… someone sneaking around, not a walker. He hoped, anyways. Dammit, this was when he wished he had Daryl around. Maybe he'd get a leash, couldn't let the redneck get too full of himself- stop, he thought. Clear your mind.
Negan took in a slow, steady breath and cleared all other thoughts out of his mind except whatever lay beyond that hallway. Thank fuck he had Lucille. She felt good in his hand, he could focus on the feel of the woodgrain, the wrappings from the grip. More shuffling, and a light clatter. It was further away now, they were moving down the hallway.
Negan peeked around the corner, and saw a faint shadow. Christ, it was dark as shit down here. No natural lighting, just the rare flickering lightbulb in the stairwells and the occasional wall sconce with a candle shoved inside with long waxy tears dripping down the sides. He hugged the wall and crept down the hall quietly towards the shadow, keeping a good distance- he hoped- between them. A door quietly squeaked opened at the far end, letting in a fraction of lighting. The shadow moved through the doorway, though Negan couldn't pick out much details except it looked the rough size and shape of a man- not very helpful.
The door closed with a quiet thud. Negan reached in his jacket and pulled out a pocket flashlight, scanning the hallway. Just a series of doors, most of it just storage. None of their good shit like ammunition, food, or medicine. Just random crap they'd found out scavenging, stuff for the kids, excess furniture they'd found lying around the place. Negan opened each door, finding nothing but dust and stale air, cobwebs with dried husks, and a whole lot of nothing interesting.
He checked a third door, a little bit closer to the hallway where he'd been. The room was fairly innocuous, full of broken or almost-broken chairs shoved in one corner, stacks of boxes filled with items found in the factory that no one knew the purpose of. And yet – something was off about the room. Most of the rooms had cobwebs in them- though the cleaners came by once in a blue moon to clear them out on occasion to prevent infestation, this room was clean.
"Like Sherlock fuckin' Holmes."
He pushed in further, swearing as his boot caught on the corner of a broken cabinet, and swept the flashlight around the room. In the farthest corner, boot prints scuffed the dusty floor around some innocuous boxes. Negan strode over, jumping only slightly when the door clicked shut behind him.
He peeked in the boxes. It just looked like boxes of spare parts still in the boxes, old calculators and typewriter ribbons. They rattled oddly when he picked them up, and he opened one of them.
Jackpot.
Ammunition, packed tightly in each box. In another, underneath some broken gardening hoses and stakes were cans from the kitchen. This wasn't the proper place to store this shit- he'd found the cache of whoever the fuck was stealing from him.
Negan stood there for a minute, letting the rage boil comfortably. He could lash out now, go hunting for the asshole (or more likely, assholes) who were stealing, but perhaps it was better to wait this one out. Take that rage, put it in a very, very secure mental box, and store it away. After all, they might just get sneakier if the thieves were found out.
He replaced the boxes, and smudged the dust around the floor to remove any immediate clue that he had been there. Before leaving, he quietly opened the door and peeked down the hallway – clear.
Sneaking around my own goddamn place. He held back a bitter chuckle.
Back at his office, he sighed and laid down on the worn leather sofa. The second his head hit the cushion, he was out.
Several hours later, he jolted awake from the banging on his door.
"What? Keep it down for fuck's sake!" he shouted, rubbing his eyes. He couldn't tell if the extra shut-eye had helped or hurt yet.
A muffled voice was indistinguishable from the other side. Negan stormed over and unlocked the door, yanking it open to reveal Kevin. The squirrelly man was gasping for air, leaning on the doorframe trying to catch his breath.
"Sir. Came…as soon as I…heard…."
"Jesus fuckin' Christ, man. Is someone dead?"
"No! No…"
"Dying, then? Bleeding? Did a group of fuckin' former Playboy Bunnies appear at the gates?"
"No…"
"Then come the fuck in and sit the fuck down before you give yourself a goddamn heart attack."
"Thanks…elevator's out…maintenance. Those stairs…"
Negan poured him a glass of water and shoved it in Kevin's hands. "Yeah, they're a bitch alright. I don't have all fuckin' day to listen to you wheezing in my office, so settle the fuck down and tell me what's going on."
He nearly used up all his patience waiting for Kevin to collect himself, but turned to look at the big map on his wall and counted slowly to thirty, then back down to zero. Kevin finally spoke.
"Couldn't sleep, went on radio duty. Got a call from Alexandria, sir. Said they picked up some guy, nearly dead. Spoke about some group up in the mountains that killed his people, nearly killed him. Was tellin' Rick he overheard them talk about some group of kids as well that lived up in the mountains, and he was worried they'd get killed too, or worse. Sir. Sounded like that group we met, maybe."
Negan froze. "He give any indication where they might be?"
"Said they are at some old caves turned into a local attraction."
"Well, we already fuckin' knew that, Kev."
Kevin nodded. "Uh huh. I asked 'em to see if he knew whereabouts, but he wasn't sure. He was from the area I guess, but it was a piddly place, mainly a farm or something but the couple who lived there would allow schoolkids there for field trips and let them camp on their grounds."
"None of this is fuckin' helpful."
"I'm gettin' there. So, this feller recalls that one of his sister's kids went there once time, gave me the name of the elementary school. Thought maybe there'd be some records there maybe of the trip. Permission slips or something, or information in the admin shit there."
Negan leaned over the desk and grabbed Kevin's face. He flinched but maintained as steady as he could, looking in Negan's eyes with fear.
"Kevin, you are a wonderful fuckin' man, and I don't say that enough. Remember that when I'm giving you shit."
Kevin looked at him, bewildered. "Uh, sure, sir. You feeling okay?"
Negan slapped Kevin's cheek and laughed. "Never fuckin' better. Let's find that fuckin' school on the map and get a trip out there. Go get Snake and Dwight. Real discrete, don't be blabbing we're going to a school, just on a supply run."
Kevin nodded eagerly. "Yes sir!" He went for the door, but Negan stopped him.
"And Kev? You have trouble sleeping, right?"
"Sometimes. I'm a night owl, usually."
"Excellent. Come back up once you deliver the message. I've got a special job for you. Also discreet."
Kevin's face lit up. "Really, sir?"
"Fuck yeah. It's a little nightwatch job. Keeping a fuckin' eye out on something particular."
Kevin puffed his chest out and nodded. "You can count on me, sir."
Negan nodded and dismissed him away. A moment later, he heard Kevin run headfirst into some poor sap, followed by clattering of items, and a stammered apology. He closed his eyes and sighed. He'd better pair Kevin with that sneaky fuck Daryl, as much as it pained him.
He turned back to the map, a slow grin spreading in his face.
I fucking love when a plan comes together.