ELEANOR . NEGAN

122.

Ezekiel was unaware of Eleanor's presence, unaware that Daryl and the rest even had a plan. The man was clueless to the fact there was people under the ground in the tunnels or the fact a Welsh woman was crying alone in her own house.

All he did know was the harsh screaming and the blinding lights that flashed along the walls. "Outside!" The guards screamed — Ezekiel wasn't even fully awake to register what was going on however, he did register the tight hands that pulled him up by his bicep.

People were clamouring together with shocked screams and equally pained ones but they were all led to one place; out of the sleeping huts and towards the harsh cold air. Ezekiel thrashed about in the guards relentless grip but to no avail, they didn't budge. The more they dragged him outside, the more he began to realise that they held onto him for a reason.

Everyone was else was free (as free as they could be) with no pulling or demanding from troopers. They all followed a crowd where a line of troopers stood with their guns held high; people finding it in them to stop there. No one made a break for it, mustered up an escape plan, no, they just followed orders because what else could they do?

The troopers came to a halt at the end of the wooden pathway and Ezekiel almost tripped over (if it wasn't for their bruising hold) at the abrupt stop. He looked around, catching familiar faces in surrounding crowds. Magna and Kelly were shoulder-to-shoulder, Glenn drifting off behind them with Frank and Annie holding on to each other — their pinkies linked together secretly so the guards wouldn't separate them.

Ezekiel had a funny feeling that the guards didn't give two shits about their secret hand holding at the moment.

But even he was knocked out of his internal monologue when a bright light touched down onto his face. A trooper was guiding the spotlight; the white hue ever so blinding. Ezekiel stumbled back and flinched away but it wasn't like he had anywhere to go.

Then the warden stepped out from the darkness and Ezekiel envied him — pissed off that he looked all cozy and warm while everyone else was freezing.

"There is a traitor in our midst." Ezekiel tried to keep a straight-face but the reality hit him like a brick. There was no Negan and the Warden came to a stop in front of the man. He ratted me out... he fucking ratted— "Someone who thinks he's above the rules."

Ezekiel frantically looked around, doing a head count once more. Magna, Kelly, Princess, Glenn, Frankie, Annie— fuck. The place became too crowded to spot anyone else while the guards nudged him forward to get him to focus on the Warden.

But then, to the right of him, a herd of troopers came barrelling from the side of a metal bus with a certain someone dragging in their hold. "This prisoner has admitted to spearheading a rebellion." And it was Negan, standing in between two guards with his head perfectly lined up with the back wall of the windmill. Ezekiel didn't notice it before, or maybe he blanked it out, but the windmill was lined with dried blood. Old yet not historic, new but not fresh.

"Any co-conspirators will be given the benefit of the doubt... I trust they were not acting of their own free will." Glenn looked around him to mimic everyone else's reaction. No one really gave a shit, at least, not the ones who knew who Negan was. Straight-faced, maybe shaken up by the cold, but Glenn's first thought was Eleanor. "So, only he will be punished."

With a shit eating grin painted with his own blood, Negan lolled his head along his own shoulders and stared at the Warden through dead eyes, only to spit at the ground before him.