Negan's Daughter

| Chapter 18 | No Sanctuary

| 3 weeks later |

I sat in the dark corner of the cart surrounded by silence. It was killing me. I was weak and tired. I refused to eat the food they gave me. I know it was human. Starvation didn't hurt like I thought it did. You just stopped feeling at some point. I was thinner than when I came to this hell. I wondered if I would die like this or at some point I would be so desperate I would eat what they gave me. That's why they started eating people. They couldn't endure the hunger any more. I close my eyes momentarily.

Thump.

My eyes opened at the odd sound and I slowly pushed my frail body over to the crack underneath the door. I peeked through the small crack, it was tiny but I could make out the three men. The butchers had more people. I squinted to get a better look. My mouth dropped open in shock. Rick. A gasp escaped my mouth before I started screaming as loud as I could and banging on the door.

"RICK!" The butcher's head snapped towards my cart and I screamed louder, calling Rick's name until my voice broke. The man slammed Rick on the ground then knocked him out with his foot. I shifted my attention to Daryl, Bob, and Glenn. They were unconscious next to him. "Oh my God," escaped my lips as Daryl's eyes met mine before shifting away, not realizing who the voice belonged to. One of the butchers rushed over to my cart and opened the door. Immediately I launched at him, tackling him to the ground then slamming his head against the cement until he passed out. I glanced at the other butchers as they rushed towards me. I felt dizzy as I stumbled to my feet and began to run in the other direction. I ran as fast as I could until I found a place to hide. I entered a small room and waited until they passed. Once their footsteps faded away in the other direction I exhaled in relief.

Click.

I froze at the distinct sound of a gun. I slowly raised my hands above my head in surrender and turned towards the source.  "Don't move, I- I swear I'll shoot!" I was face to face with a boy around my age. His skin was lighter than mine, almost pale, he had dark brown eyes, brown raggedy hair, freckles aligned on the skin under his eyes, and he harbored a slightly sickly appearance. "W-Who are you?" He asked in a shaky voice.

"Why does it matter?" I whispered.

"Just answer!" He yelped, getting frustrated at my unwillingness to be afraid of him.

"My name is Breanna," I gave in. I was tired of this. Shoot me, kid, I don't care. I was too weak to care. His eyes narrowed suspiciously before they seemed to light up at my name.

"Bre- Breanna?" His breath seemed to be taken away as he examined me from head to toe. I furrowed my brow then widened my eyes as he lunged forward and  hugged me. Instantly, I shoved him off and aimed his gun at him. I had never killed before but if I had to kill this kid to get out of here, I would. "I'm Max," he whimpered out. I still didn't understand. I scanned him up and down afraid he might hug me again. "I'm you- I have a picture." He dug deep into his front pocket and pulled out a small polaroid picture. Hesitantly, I gazed at the picture to see a little girl with a pink ribbon neatly tying her curly hair back into pigtails, however she was crying as a little boy next to her yanked one of them viscously. Above them were two parents smiling genuinely at the camera, on the left was a man in a grey t-shirt and navy blue zip up hoodie and jeans, on the right was a woman with a grey beanie on her head. She had a sickly appearance and gripped onto the man next to her with support to stand straight. I felt my throat become dry at the picture as I gazed past it and at the boy holding it. He seemed to noticed a change in my visage and immediately spoke up.

"I'm your brother." My eyes fluttered in shock.

Boom!

We both lost our balance and fell on the floor. After the shaking had ceased I gazed up at Max. This was my brother, he was here, alive, in front of me. My mouth gaped open at him as we shakily scrambled to our feet.