Freedom -Negan-

Chapter 11

I wanted to sleep in the car. So. Fucking. Bad. As soon as I started drifting away, I remembered that I was only wearing a hoodie and did not trust these men to respect my virtue when I fell asleep. So, I stayed up.

The man with the mustache wasn't kidding when he said it was a long drive. It was an hour and a half before the driver said we were close. The leader sitting in the front decided to sleep on the drive back. He must really trust these men to sleep in the car with a prisoner who had just told him she had killed 15 of his men. Or he underestimated me, which would be unfortunate for him, but gave me the advantage.

The guard who had cuffed me would give me side glances every now and then. I thought I saw pity in his eyes. My face must be pretty beat up by the looks he gave me. I tried to get a glimpsed of myself in the rear-view mirror, but it was too dark for me to see anything. The pain all over my body gave me a good idea, though.

The long drive gave me time to think. I had no reason to lie, and I hope my demeanor showed these people that I meant no harm to them, unless they tried to harm me, first.

Another 30 minutes in the car and a large factory building came into sight over the trees. I figured we would just be driving by but was surprised when the car began to slow down. This couldn't be their camp, it was huge. I wondered just how many people lived her and what I had gotten myself into.

The driver shook the leader awake to let him know that we were approaching the building.

"God damn finally. Sleeping in the truck really messes with my neck." The man groaned and he sat up in the seat and fixed himself to look more presentable. He turned his head to look back at me and gave me a toothy grin. "You, sweetheart, look like absolute shit."

I just glared at him, giving no smart-mouth response that I normally would.

"You better have some nice words for Negan if you don't want him bashing your skull in." He sat forward again.

The driver pulled up to the gate, two men pull the gate open and allowed us to drive inside. As we passed the fence, I noticed that they had dead ones all over the yard and attached to the fence. What kind of people was I dealing with?

The car stopped in front of the entrance to the building. The driver got out and stood right outside of my door. The man with the mustache turned towards me and told me to 'stay put or else' before exiting the truck. The man sitting next to me gave me one last look before following his leader.

I watched out my window as the second vehicle that had been following us pulled in behind us. The men left the vehicle and helped another man out of the back seat. Jimmy. More awake now. The men helped the short, stocky man into the building. The man stared at our vehicle as he walked past. I smiled to myself knowing what he would have to live with for the rest of his miserable life.

I sat in the car for a long time. The sun had begun to rise. My eyelids could barely stay open, but I fought hard and tried to take in the surroundings around me. The yard was pretty plain, and a handful of men roamed around, all carrying large guns.

I had no weapons or any of my supplies. Hell, I didn't even have proper clothing. I needed to talk my way out of this place without pissing anyone off, which would be hard for me, especially now that I was utterly exhausted.

The large double doors finally opened and out came a man. Tall, dark hair, leather jacket, salt and pepper beard and a baseball bat slung over his right shoulder. Maybe in his early to mid-forties. He was followed by the same men who shared the car with me, and I could safely assume that this was the man everyone was talking about.

The group stopped about 5 feet away from the truck and the man with the baseball bat motioned his hand and my door opened. The man who had driven the truck grabbed my arm and yanked me into the open. I placed my bare feet on the cool concrete and lifted my head so that I was able to look the tall man in the eyes.

"Now who the shit is this little thing?" The man said, his voice deep with a slight southern accent. "She looks like shit, but also, kinda badass. I mean, look at how she's looking right at me! Shit!" He pointed the bat at me and allowed me to see the barbed wired wrapped around the end. "Giving me chills." He had very dramatic body language. His body moving in sync with his words.

"Bring her to the meeting room." He turned and walked back into the factory, his group following him. The man near me grabbed me left arm hard and followed everyone into the building.

We walked through many halls, seeing many different people. I tried to remember the twists and turns, but my sleep deprived brain couldn't retain information. We went up a flight of stairs at some point. That would be important to remember. I kept staring at the bat in the man's hand and wonder who would have a weapon like that. Didn't seem super practical, honestly.

We walked until we were brought to another set of double doors. In the room was a long table with chairs sitting around it and really not much else. Walls were bare and just a few windows let the rising sunlight shine in. I was placed in one of the chairs and the leather-clad man sat across from me.

"Leave us." He ordered the other men. "But uncuff the ladies' hands first. She can't fucking do anything anyways." The man with the mustache protested. "Simon." And that was it, the mustached man – Simon – came over and uncuffed my wrists.

"I'll be right outside." The mustached man said and walked out the doors.

I clasped my hands together and placed them on the table, attempting to be open and make him aware that I wasn't going to try anything. I scootched my chair closer to the table to hide my bare legs.

The man placed his bat on the chair to his left and mirrored my body language, placing his own clasped hands on the table.

"If you haven't guessed it already, sweetheart. I'm Negan."