Knife Edge [Daryl Dixon]

Chapter Twenty - Shadow of Light (2/2)

    'Don't worry,' Will said. 'Stick to the rules and you'll do fine.' 

Sarah wanted to agree, but all she could manage was a non-committal nod of her head. This was her first shift guarding Negan, and while Will was going to stay with her to show her the ropes, her palms itched with sweat. Feigning coldness, she rubbed her hands together.

Will and Nancy did the lion share of guarding Negan while they were gone, and it showed. There was a little more white in Nancy's wispy hair, and Will's stoop was more pronounced. The sooner she could fly solo the better. 

'To begin with Rick said you'll be doing mid-shifts.' Will said slowly, as if he was measuring every word to make sure it was right for the job. 'That means there's no call to be opening the door for anything.'

'Daryl and Rick explained it to me,' Sarah nodded again, choosing not to add that what Daryl actually said before he and Rick left for the Sanctuary was, 'You don't look at him. You don't speak to him. He does somethin' you don't like, shoot him.' 

A smile had tugged at the corner of her mouth, until Rick's shoulders rolled in agreement. They were serious. Deadly. 

'You can wait outside if you want,' Will went on. 'Some do, but it gets a mite cold at times, so it's up to you.'

'You stay inside?' she asked, craning her neck to see through the window in the basement door, but it was clouded with the same white lichen that mottled the steps to the road. 

'I do, but I like to keep an eye on him.' He tapped his temple with a long knotted finger, 'Know what's going on up here.'

Sarah mulled it over. They parked spare vehicles on this street away from the main gate. Leaves covered their windshields in a dappled mosaic. She was picking up another shift the next day, and the day after that. She couldn't stand in the cold and rain forever.

Echoing Rick, she rolled a shoulder, 'Makes sense.'

'Okay,' Will said, and with a quick pat of the gun in his holster, he opened the door.

He was already talking as he entered the dim room, 'Now, Mr Negan. This here is Sarah, and she's going to be keeping us company this afternoon.'

Sarah didn't know what she had been expecting, but this really was a cell. A fair-sized square room with concrete floors and bare block walls was split down the middle by thick metal bars. It smelled of damp and old clothes worn too often.

Behind the bars, a man lay stretched out on a cot. When they came in, he swung his legs off the side of the bed and sat up, grumbling under his breath. 

She closed the door. So, this was Negan...

He was older than she imagined. With his salt and pepper hair, faded jeans, and zipped sweater vest, it was hard to believe this was the man who set fire to Alexandria, and who liked to murder people with a baseball bat.

It was only when Will was pointing out the safety-line painted on the floor that the hairs rose on the back of her neck. Negan might be making a show of being disinterested in what they were doing, but a show was all it was. When she wasn't looking, his eyes roved across her, her knives, and her gun.

Will coughed and made for a folding chair in the corner of the room, 'You can bring a book if it helps to pass the time. Nancy and I find crosswords...'