BItter hearts

Chapter 2

Negan’s POV

Negan’s fingers flexed around Lucille’s handle as the lead truck in the small convoy wound its way along the country backroads, headlights bouncing off the trees around them and casting freakish shadows on the potholed ground. The air was thick with tension as each man considered just what exactly they might be facing, but Negan’s concern was giving way to a pure heady rush of adrenaline. It wasn’t so much that he enjoyed violence… Okay, maybe it was exactly that, but after a long day spent cooped up in his office dealing with mind-numbing admin, a chance to get out and put his muscles to use was exactly what he needed. A little skull bashing was good for the soul and he was confident in the abilities of those he chose to surround himself with. They’d move fast, deal with the threat, and get every Savior, and every offering from the communities they oversaw, back behind the Sanctuary fences before the clock struck midnight. He didn’t believe in much, but he believed in the strength and efficiency of what he’d built, and he knew he could deal with whatever lay ahead.

‘We should be on ‘em by now,’ Joey observed from his spot behind the steering wheel and Negan nodded, scanning the roadside for any sign of movement.

‘Ease off the gas, keep your eyes peeled for corpses.’

The throaty growl of the engine quietened as the vehicle slowed to a crawl, speed matched by the truck that followed close behind. The suspension creaked as the wheels bounced over a dip in the dirt, and Negan held back a groan as his back twinged in protest. Yeah, he could do with a good workout to stretch his joints. Didn’t do a man his age any good to be still for too long.

‘There.’ Mark was leaning through from the back, arms resting along the top of the bench seat where Negan and Joey sat, but now he raised a hand, pointing towards three large dark masses that stood on the outer curve of the next bend. ‘Those look like ours to you, boss?’

In all honesty, it was hard to tell in the darkness, especially from this distance, but they sure were trucks of some kind, and there were three of his out there somewhere unaccounted for. ‘Sure looks like. Pull her up, Joe. I want everybody on their toes. It’s too damn quiet out here for my liking.’

The vehicle rolled to a halt, the silence deafening when the engine shuddered to a stop. The walkie on his belt sprang to life, crackling and hissing before a voice from the truck behind came through. ‘You got something up there?’

‘Trucks,’ Negan responded, his finger hovering over the button. ‘Look like ours.’

‘Can you see anyone?’

‘Not yet. No sign of movement. No bodies either though.’ He sucked in a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he fought to let the adrenaline surging through his system conquer the whisper of nerves that crept up his spine. ‘Keep calm, boys. Whatever the fuck this is, it’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before. We’ve got this.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Silence fell as Negan debated his next move. He could go back out on the air, request a couple of the guys from the truck behind to jump out and scout the treeline, but that wasn’t really his style. He was the leader, the big boss, and as such he liked to be the first one on the ground. It was how he’d earned their respect in the first place and he wasn’t about to let that slip now. But something was holding him back. It was too quiet, too still. He’d put set-ups like this in place himself: the unexpected ambush, designed to intimidate and assert his authority from the off. And he was becoming more and more certain that it wasn’t the undead that had been responsible for his Saviors’ distress.